The ancient one scoffed, retreating several paces. “Were I but given a few more years within these realms, despite your arcane trinkets and sorcerous arts, you would be no match for me!”

Wang Lin, reclaiming the mountain spirit into his celestial abode, said with serene composure, “It is the exchange of this particular enchantment I seek.”

The old man sneered. “Such a notion is futile. You have seized the Thunder Cauldron, now be gone!”

A glint of resolve hardened Wang Lin’s gaze. He extended his right hand, a sable ray erupting forth with unnatural speed. As the darkness unfurled, the ancient one felt his very life essence threatened, as though his vitality was being forcibly extracted.

The shadowy projectile surged towards the distant cultivator’s star, vanishing from sight, yet the old man’s consciousness pursued it. He witnessed the ebony energy consume a verdant plain, turning it to ashen desolation. The life force of countless withered plants streamed into the heavens, fusing with Wang Lin’s very being.

“This sorcery is known as the Finger of Oblivion,” Wang Lin declared with measured calm.

The elder grunted, “Had I not achieved the ethereal heights of Yin Void, this trickery might hold some appeal. Now, it is naught but a trinket!” Yet, in his heart, he was disturbed by the power of the enchantment. Not its raw force, but the unnatural ability to siphon life itself.

Wang Lin extended his hand once more. A sinister miasma coiled around his fingertip. With a flick of his wrist, the wind stirred, and the spectral vapor halted before the elder’s eyes.

“This enchantment is called the Finger of Corruption,” Wang Lin intoned, “transforming internal celestial energy into demonic essence. Used in conjunction with the Finger of Oblivion, its effects are amplified.”

The elder, studying the sinister aura, hesitated for a moment before seizing it. He channeled his spirit through the clinging darkness, his brow furrowing. At last, he raised his head, fixing Wang Lin with a sharp gaze. “Rumors tell of the Donglin Star’s affinity for demonic arts. So, you hail from that forsaken land. Alas, this power too, is a mere trifle!”

Wang Lin paused, considering. The Yellow Springs Finger, most cherished by Situ Nan, was too flawed to bargain with. A new idea kindled in his eyes. He raised his right hand. “The final enchantment I shall unveil was gifted to me by a master of the Second Step, a Broken Nirvana cultivator. If this proves unworthy, then let us consider this exchange undone.”

The elder was taken aback, skepticism flickering across his face.

Wang Lin focused his intent. The celestial guardian, a mechanical warrior, transformed into a golden comet, streaking toward the cultivator’s star.

The puppet’s movement darkened the old man’s expression.

Presently, the celestial guardian returned, clutching a grotesque beast. Razor-like spines covered its body, and fragments of mortal limbs clung to its maw, evidence of a recent feast.

Wang Lin brought two fingers together, forming a blade. It had been long since he invoked the Immortal Slaughter Sutra. The accumulated aura of countless deaths was now bound to the guardians, diminished to less than a tenth of its original potency.

Yet, Wang Lin’s comprehension of the art was profound, honed over a century of dedication.

He steeled himself. With a flick of his hand, a blade of pure killing intent surged from his fingertips, striking the monstrous creature. The beast wailed, its form rapidly decaying before the elder’s widened eyes, transforming into a mere skeleton.

A wisp of grey energy detached from the bones, coiling around Wang Lin’s fingertip.

With a final gesture, he sent the spectral essence forth, where it transformed into a brand, flying toward the elder.

“This enchantment is known as the Slaughter Immortal Seal!”

The old man was visibly shaken. He seized the brand, and his consciousness delved into its depths, examining it carefully. His shock grew with each passing moment, until his eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light.

Even with his advanced cultivation, the elder recognized the power of the Immortal Slaughter Sutra. The brand possessed protective properties, while the spectral essence was a potent weapon.

While not overwhelmingly powerful, the art could be invoked repeatedly, accumulating power over time.

“This brand is born of the Slaughter Immortal Sutra! It harvests the power of life from slain foes, weaving it into a protective barrier. Each brand adds to the fortification. My master, the same who bestowed this art upon me, once said that a body warded by a billion of these brands could withstand the very collapse of a star!” Wang Lin spoke truly, echoing the words of the Grey-Robed Celestial Fate.

Hesitation clouded the elder’s face for the first time. The Immortal Slaughter Sutra had truly captivated him. He could see its potential, its clear strength was not something ordinary cultivators could obtain. Wang Lin’s claim of inheriting the art from a Broken Nirvana cultivator was now believable.

Yet, his Third Eye was a family legacy, not to be shared easily with outsiders. The enchantment’s origin was shrouded in mystery, seemingly discovered by an ancestor long ago.

Were this within the Alliance Star System, his family would never be allowed to hold such power, but in the family-centered society of the Luo Tian Star System, each clan possessed its own inherited enchantments. Few dared to seize them by force.

Moreover, of all his family, he was the first to master the Third Eye.

Wang Lin waited, but seeing the elder’s wavering resolve, he turned, mounting the thunder beast. “Enough. Since you are unwilling, let this exchange be forgotten!” The thunder beast transformed into a bolt of lightning, racing into the distance, with the celestial guardian close behind.

The life brand in the elder’s hand crumbled into grey dust. Its dissipation seemed to echo in his heart, as if a piece of his own power had been snatched away.

As Wang Lin’s silhouette faded into the horizon, the elder’s face twisted. “Halt, friend!” he shouted, “The Slaughter Immortal Sutra, along with the Finger of Oblivion and the Finger of Corruption – I will trade them to you!”

Wang Lin stopped. The thunder beast, ever perceptive, wheeled around and flew back, halting ten paces before the elder, its nostrils flaring with lightning, its eyes glittering with disdain.

“I will trade, but you must swear: this art, shall never be passed on!” the old man growled.
Wang Lin nodded, ceasing all further pleasantries. He immediately reached into his storage bag, withdrawing three jade slips. These detailed records of three powerful arcane arts he carelessly tossed towards the waiting figure, unafraid of betrayal.

The old sorcerer caught them, his expression betraying nothing, though inwardly he felt a grudging respect for Wang Lin’s audacity. He, too, produced a jade slip, etching the secrets of the Third Eye within. This he flung towards Wang Lin, though a darker thought had taken root in his mind. He’d subtly woven several flaws within the inscription; practicing it thus would inevitably lead to significant, though hidden, peril.

Wang Lin received the slip, meticulously scrutinizing it. He covertly channeled his inner energies, even sacrificing a portion of his life essence, to view the inscription with the very essence of the Third Eye he sought. He instantly recognized the concealed treachery but said nothing, offering only a slight nod.

Gazing upon the old sorcerer, Wang Lin felt a pang of conscience. This exchange had tipped heavily in his favor. Hesitating for a moment, he clasped his hands in a respectful bow. “Friend, the potency of your bloodlust should not exceed ten thousand souls, lest you risk dire consequences! Farewell!” With that, he turned and swiftly departed, his back betraying a rare urgency.

The old sorcerer was taken aback, his face tightening. He glanced down at the jade slip in his hand, pondering for a time. Then, he turned, leading his tribe back towards their cultivation star. He would immediately enter seclusion, striving to master the art within a month, in time to journey to the Thunder Realm.

Perched upon the back of the Thunderbeast, Wang Lin wore a peculiar expression. He shook his head, muttering to himself, “Three flawed, lesser spells… for a technique that hints at the path to the Third Step… it seems… excessive.” Yet, a smile played on his lips as he gazed at the jade slip.

The old sorcerer had regarded the technique as commonplace, of limited importance, but Wang Lin saw its immense power, for it possessed a faint echo of the Primeval Origin.

Had he not glimpsed the Third Step, Wang Lin, too, would have missed its potential. He suppressed his excitement, delving deeper into the jade slip’s secrets.

The flaws the old sorcerer had woven within were of little concern. With time, he could unravel and correct them, a task far simpler than mending the original three arts.

The Thunderbeast moved with blinding speed, carving a path through the star-strewn void. Its destination: Wang Lin’s cultivation star, Azure Spirit!

The cultivators of Azure Spirit had barely celebrated the departure of the eccentric, peculiar-minded predecessor who had once claimed their world when they found themselves once again gripped by unease. The strange and particular one had returned.

Once more, the lands within ten thousand leagues of Hanging Cloud Peak became a forbidden zone, shunned by all.

Back on his own cultivation star, Wang Lin wasted no time in studying and perfecting the Third Eye technique, patiently experimenting and mastering its intricacies.

Half a month passed swiftly. On this day, the sky was clear and bright, a vast expanse of azure touched by a gentle breeze, carrying with it a hint of warmth.

Wang Lin stood atop Hanging Cloud Peak, cradling the Thunder Cauldron in his hand. No larger than his palm, the cauldron pulsed with captured lightning, emitting a crisp, crackling sound.

Upon Wang Lin’s brow, a thin, subtle seam flickered, radiating a faint crimson glow. He appeared unsettling, almost unholy. Few would mistake him for a righteous cultivator; there was a decidedly sinister aura about him.

This transformation stemmed, of course, from the nascent Third Eye upon his brow.

In moments, storm clouds gathered in the azure sky, appearing with sudden and unsettling haste. A moment ago, the heavens were clear; now, they were plunged into shadow.

Rumbling thunder echoed within the clouds, and within Wang Lin’s Thunder Cauldron, the captured lightning crackled even brighter, mirroring the brewing storm above.

Suddenly, a thick bolt of lightning descended from the clouds, hurtling directly towards Wang Lin!

Wang Lin stared at the descending energy, his eyes gleaming strangely. He knew that when the lightning struck the Thunder Cauldron, he would be drawn upwards, shattering the void and ascending towards the ethereal Thunder Realm.

But at the last moment, he retracted the Thunder Cauldron!

“To capture Celestial Lightning…” Wang Lin murmured, his eyes gleaming even more strangely. His next act would be unprecedented in the countless millennia of the Thunder Realm’s opening…

*Thus begins the Chronicle of the Thunder Realm. Let the tale unfold!*