A spectral wind, a sigh from the mountains, swept away the cloying crimson haze that hung heavy in the air. Wang Lin, his face an unreadable mask, observed the scene before him. He had no stake in this grim theater, and offered no succor.

Besides, even had he not been present, the fate of the Ge maiden had been sealed the very instant Li Yuan set foot within the Celestial Realm of Thunder.

“This Li Yuan holds his cards close,” Wang Lin mused. “If his words are true, then the extent of his patience towards the Ge woman is truly terrifying! Only upon reaching this very peak, wreathed in ancient wards, does he reveal his hand. These wards, no doubt, hold a deep connection to his ancestors.”

“Yet,” a shadow of doubt crossed his thoughts, “nothing confirms the truth of his tale!” Wang Lin’s gaze remained steady, betraying neither pleasure nor displeasure.

“But the Ge maiden’s dying gaze…it held an odd quality. Why did she turn to look upon that stone idol in her final moments?”

Li Yuan, drawing a deep, steadying breath, turned towards Wang Lin, clasping his hands in respectful greeting. “Brother Xu, my mastery of the art of Warding pales in comparison to that of my forebears. I require your aid, brother. I seek the power of your art – that which stills the ethereal and suspends the very flow of time!”

Wang Lin’s expression remained unchanged, but within his heart, a flicker of understanding ignited. From these words, he gleaned that Li Yuan had indeed witnessed the battle against the shade-being, and had seen the execution of his Stasis Spell!

“Brother Xu’s spell is unmatched in all the realms! Its power is absolute, freezing the very essence of existence within its grasp! With your aid, I am confident I can shatter this idol, and free my house from its ancient curse!”

“In return,” Li Yuan continued, “I offer the secrets of the Breaking Wards, and the Eighteen Plum Blossom Seals!”

Wang Lin regarded Li Yuan with detached curiosity. If the task was as simple as the other claimed, a helping hand was not out of the question. The Breaking Wards held little allure, but the Eighteen Plum Blossom Seals, if mastered, would not only amplify his warding power, but also unlock new vistas within his spellcraft.

He allowed his gaze to drift towards the idol, avoiding direct contact with the imprinted sigil. Yet, even a fleeting glimpse sent a jolt through his mind. There was something…familiar. The idol’s features…did they not bear a faint resemblance to the Ge maiden?

“Brother Xu,” Li Yuan pressed, sensing his hesitation, “my cultivation falls short of your own. Even with the aid of wards, I could not withstand the force of your sword-wind. What doubts remain? To prove my sincerity, I shall bestow upon you the remaining Plum Blossom Seals now. The secrets of the Breaking Wards shall be yours upon the breaking of the seal!” His voice was earnest, his gaze unwavering.

Wang Lin, his face a placid mask, offered a curt nod in reply.

Without hesitation, Li Yuan produced a jade slip, meticulously etched it with arcane symbols, and tossed it to Wang Lin. Within resided the remaining diagrams of the Wardstone Guardians.

“Brother Xu’s aid is welcomed,” Wang Lin said after a moment of inspection, storing the jade slip within his pouch. Yet, a seed of unease had taken root in his heart. Something felt amiss.

Despite Li Yuan’s seemingly candid explanation, Wang Lin sensed a veil of secrecy, a persistent shroud of mystery clinging to the man.

“I shall see what manner of game Li Yuan plays,” Wang Lin vowed inwardly, his eyes hardening with resolve.

A wave of undisguised relief washed over Li Yuan’s face. He drew a deep breath, and with a flick of his wrist, summoned a rusted iron sword from his pouch. Grasping the hilt, he drew the blade across the palm of his free hand.

Crimson blood welled forth, staining the length of the blade, emitting an eerie, baleful light.

Li Yuan chanted in hushed tones, his words indistinct. As he intoned the ancient verses, the bloodied blade pulsed with a palpable aura of resentment, a cacophony of tormented souls bound together.

A crimson flame erupted from the blade, leaping skyward in a flickering dance. Within its fiery embrace, spectral faces writhed and contorted, each bearing an identical, unholy brand upon its brow.

Li Yuan bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of blood into the inferno. The flames surged, greedily consuming the offering. A chorus of mournful wails and guttural roars echoed from within, engulfing the mountaintop in a chilling aura of spectral dread.

The red light painted Li Yuan’s face, twisting his features into a grotesque mask. He struck his pouch, releasing a compass. The compass, barely free of his grasp, was tossed into the heart of the inferno.

Within the fiery maelstrom, the compass needle spun wildly, each rotation spawning a ripple of energy. The ripples spread through the flames, causing the inferno to swell with terrifying speed.

In the blink of an eye, the flames rose to ten times Li Yuan’s height, reaching towards the heavens with a baleful glow.

The conflagration shuddered, then with a resounding crack, the compass shattered. As it did, the flames blazed even brighter.

Next, the iron sword itself began to crumble, dissolving into molten fragments that were instantly devoured by the ravenous fire. The inferno swelled once more, now reaching a height of fifteen times his height, it launched itself into the air, hurtling towards the stone idol.

In an instant, the idol was enveloped in flames, along with the stone sword and the kneeling figure at its tip.

The stone idol began to shudder under the assault, as if being subjected to a terrible ritual. The spectral resentment within the flames clawed into the stone, and cracks began to spread across its surface, growing ever wider, threatening to shatter the entire construct.

Li Yuan’s eyes burned with feverish intensity. He drew a jade vial from his pouch and hurled it at the flames. A stream of shimmering white motes poured forth, dissolving into the fire and seeping into the cracks that riddled the idol.

The cracks grew larger, the sound of fracturing stone echoing across the peak. Within the heart of the idol, a dormant power began to stir, awakened by the mingling of resentment and light.
Just then, Li Yuan inhaled deeply, and without hesitation, retrieved the final treasure from his pouch – a painted scroll! With a flick of his wrist, the scroll unfurled, and the moment its painted scene appeared, the stone statue enveloped in crimson flames shuddered with renewed ferocity. Within its depths, the sensation of awakening grew ever stronger.

“Brother Xu, unleash your divine art! Let me use this ancient scroll to seal the remnant, undying soul of this celestial statue!” Li Yuan roared.

Wang Lin’s eyes glimmered, a cold smile playing upon his lips. He did not cast his immobilizing spell. Instead, he swiftly retreated, for he seemed to grasp the true nature of this affair.

Wang Lin’s retreat caused Li Yuan to whirl around, his gaze fixed upon him, his face contorted with rage. “Friend Xu, why do you delay? Strike now, before it is too late!”

At this moment, the fissures upon the statue deepened, nearing the point of collapse. The aura of awakening within grew ever more potent. Most of the resentment within the crimson flames had been absorbed by the stone figure, and even the white luminescence of the jade vial had vanished, utterly merging with the statue.

This resentment and luminescence acted as nourishment, granting the statue the power to break free, though a seal still restrained it, threatening to crumble alongside it.

Wang Lin retreated at an even greater speed, instantly covering a hundred paces. A chilling light flashed in Li Yuan’s eyes as he surged forward, unleashing his cultivation with reckless abandon. Though still at the Zenith of Spirit Transformation, his aura now possessed a hint of something terrifying.

His charge was akin to teleportation, instantly closing the distance to Wang Lin. “Friend Xu, why do you retreat?” he demanded.

“Your tale is enchanting, Daoist Li,” Wang Lin replied, “but I suspect your goal is not to release the Li Clan’s seal, but to resurrect this celestial statue!” As he retreated, a phantom flickered behind Wang Lin, and the Celestial Guard puppet strode forth, launching a fist toward the pursuing Li Yuan!

The punch reverberated with a thunderous roar, its momentum astonishing. Li Yuan sneered, his eyes filled with disdain. His hands weaved a series of incantations, and a black line materialized before him. Instantly, the line lengthened, forming a triangular symbol that shimmered with an unholy light as the Celestial Guard’s fist approached.

In an instant, the triangular mark swelled in size at an impossible rate, slamming against the Celestial Guard’s fist like a web of soft threads. It spread along the fist and rapidly enveloped the entire puppet, clinging to its skin.

The Celestial Guard was now encased in the triangular pattern, emanating waves of black light. Its struggles were futile.

“A mere inferior Celestial Guard dares to act insolently before me!” Li Yuan scoffed, his words revealing a shocking truth.

Yet, Wang Lin remained unmoved, his expression unchanged. He spoke calmly, “As I suspected, your earlier claims were false!”

Li Yuan gazed at Wang Lin, saying slowly, “I do not wish to fight you. Return with me willingly, and unleash the Immobilization Art you inherited from the Rain Celestial Realm. If you succeed, I swear you shall receive everything I promised!”

Wang Lin chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You would slay even your own master’s descendants. How can I trust your vows?” With those words, Wang Lin teleported away, fleeing the scene.

A keen light flashed in Li Yuan’s eyes. He took a step forward, uttering, “It seems I underestimated you! However, in my eyes, you cannot escape!” Li Yuan waved his hand, and a mark shimmered on his brow, releasing a binding art. The clouds above instantly trembled and dispersed in all directions. In the distance, space rippled and distorted, revealing Wang Lin’s fleeing figure.

Forced into visibility, Wang Lin showed no sign of panic, his demeanor suggesting he had anticipated this and had a plan in mind.

Meanwhile, at the very heart of the Thunder Celestial Realm, on a shard of broken land, stood a fortress-like barrier of lightning that encircled the small landmass.

At the center of this land, an enormous formation pulsed with power. Four elders sat cross-legged around it, their white hair cascading down their backs, their bodies radiating immense spiritual strength.

Suddenly, the formation began to flash violently. The four elders remained motionless, not even their eyelids flickering. After a moment, a spectral figure appeared within the array.

It was crimson in color, and as it materialized, a wave of thick, cloying blood-qi emanated from it. The four elders outside the formation knitted their brows, their expressions turning grim.

“Wang Lin, you little wretch! This old one has come for you!” The shadowy figure solidified into a middle-aged man with crimson robes, crimson hair, and crimson eyebrows.

It was the Blood Ancestor!