Upon the gleaming edge of a sword’s light, stood a lone figure. Robed in a wide, flowing garment of sunshine yellow, the wind caught at the silk as he descended, imbuing him with an ethereal grace. Such was the refinement of his cultivation, his true age was veiled, his visage hinting at merely thirty summers. His features were unremarkable, save for his eyes, narrow and sharp, glinting with an inner frost.

A dense aura of celestial power emanated from him, marking him as a pinnacle of the Yin Void realm. His arrival caused those mere thousands of feet ahead to scatter, yielding passage.

Closer and closer he flew, undeterred by the swirling curtain of dust that veiled the entrance, nor ignorant of its significance. Without pause, he plunged into its heart, his passage unleashing a torrent of power, a maelstrom that reversed the dance of dust.

Witnessed by the gathered cultivators, all fixed their gaze. Wang Lin, they knew, was a being of profound power, and this yellow-robed youth, too, possessed a might to rival the heavens. A clash over the hidden Immortal cavern was inevitable.

Such battles were rare spectacles, sparking greed in the hearts of some, who dared to dream of reaping spoils from the wounds of titans.

Li Yuan’s face paled, hesitation flickering in his eyes. Then, Wang Lin’s voice, calm as a still pond, whispered in his ear, “Descend, brother Li.”

Without a word, Li Yuan leapt into the shadowy depths of the cavern. As he fell, the approaching youth drew nigh.

Wang Lin, face impassive, raised his right hand, and with a gentle gesture, unleashed a bolt of violet lightning. This celestial fire instantly bloomed into a swirling mist of purple, clinging to the lightning’s edges, hungering for the approaching figure.

The youth’s eyes narrowed. He had seen Wang Lin, yet, secure in his lineage and the swift approach of his kin, he deemed the other unworthy of true concern.

Now, with a hollow laugh, he clenched his right hand into a claw. Five tendrils of black energy manifested, lunging at the lightning, their touch unleashing a furious maelstrom.

“Devour!” the youth intoned. The black tendrils transformed into serpentine dragons of darkness, their jaws gaping, consuming the lightning in a frenzy. In an instant, the thunder was gone, devoured, and the dragons returned to their master, coiling about him.

As they spiraled, the dragons swelled, growing into behemoths of shadow, each a hundred feet long. The youth’s aura swelled with them, a tide of power unleashed.

“Fellow Daoist, your abilities are impressive. Stay your hand for a moment. I am Tang Yanyun, and I propose we explore this Immortal cavern together. What say you?” The youth spoke, knowing that such words from one of his station were a rare offering. Had Wang Lin not radiated a cultivation nearing that of his elder brother, a power touching the very realm of the Yang Solid, such a plea would never have been uttered.

These words stirred the gathered cultivators, some paling, others whispering, “The Tang family! From the Southern Domain of Luo Tian, perhaps?”

A thousand thoughts danced in their eyes.

Wang Lin, gazing upon him with eyes of ice, declared, “You are not worthy.”

Tang Yanyun was taken aback. He had anticipated refusal, or even a shift in demeanor upon hearing his family name. Yet, such arrogant disdain was beyond his imagining.

His face hardened. “Very well,” he sneered. “I shall not trouble you further.” He retreated, plotting in his heart, *This one is too strong. I shall delay, waiting for my brother’s arrival, before I strike.*

Though his clan was not among those born from the heavens, the Tang family was still vast and formidable. They had arrived in the Realm of Thunder as one, a mighty force, with him merely scouting ahead.

Wang Lin remained unmoved. He stepped forward, and with that motion, the air itself thickened with celestial power. His pace was unhurried, yet each step carried the weight of mountains, inexorably drawing him toward Tang Yanyun.

The youth’s face darkened. He retreated faster, as Wang Lin spoke, his voice smooth as polished jade, “Your darkness is also unworthy to consume my thunder.”

As the words echoed, the black dragons coiled around Tang Yanyun unleashed agonizing roars. Lightning danced within their forms, followed by the echoes of thunder, like distant battle drums.

An instant later, with an earth-shattering boom, one dragon exploded. And then, in quick succession, the remaining four followed, their forms consumed by a furious inferno.

The shockwave slammed into Tang Yanyun. His face contorted, and he wove arcane gestures, a dragon sigil blazing upon his brow. A shield of pure shadow erupted, barely withstanding the blast.

Gasping, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, he seethed. The other had attacked without provocation, for he had shown no open hostility, nor could he have known his inner thoughts.

Before he could voice his protest, Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with glacial fire. He raised his right hand, and the beast bone brand upon his flesh writhed, leaping from his skin and solidifying into reality.

A colossal bone of some primordial beast materialized before him, its four fangs gleaming like razors of ice. With a surge of power, it soared toward Tang Yanyun.

Retreating, the youth’s face grew darker. The dragon seal on his brow intensified, and from it poured an essence of pure darkness, interwoven with the very fabric of celestial power. The seal peeled away from his forehead, becoming a living dragon of shadow, soaring with a thunderous roar toward the bone.

This serpentine horror, a thousand feet long, emanated an aura of oppressive might. Dark scales, etched with glowing runes, covered its body.

“Devouring Dragon!” Tang Yanyun cried out, his retreat continuing unabated.

The jaws of the beast engulfed all, as though swallowing the heavens themselves. Within its form, untold amounts of celestial energy churned, roiling like an endless storm.
Just as the Obsidian Wyrm descended to devour, from the abyssal sockets of the bone-carved visage, two spectral flames ignited. In that instant, the ancient bones seemed to awaken, unleashing a torrent of baleful energy. It was a fleeting surge, an instant of concentrated malice that vanished as quickly as it arose.

Too swift for mortal eyes to truly grasp, even as the malevolent aura dissipated, the onrushing Obsidian Wyrm’s draconic eyes widened in horror. His serpentine form froze mid-strike, each scale a canvas of dread. A creeping grey blight spread from the tip of his tail, consuming his vast body in an instant.

The grey was the hue of ancient stone. The Wyrm, a conjuration of raw arcane power, had been transformed into a monolithic statue. Even the swirling energies that wove his form solidified into petrified threads. With a thunderous roar, the stone dragon crashed to the earth, shattering the ground.

The scene was frozen in time, holding all witnesses in suspended animation. A collective gasp swept through the onlookers, their eyes wide with disbelief. “What… what sorcery is this?” murmured Tang Yanyun, his gaze fixed upon the shattered stone fragments, his voice laced with mounting terror.

The cultivators scattered across the surrounding leagues felt their hearts seize. The sight defied all understanding, and a wave of primal fear surged through their ranks. That expanse of a thousand paces, once inconsequential, now seemed a forbidden zone, a raging torrent of doom they dared not approach.

Almost as one, these nascent cultivators, barely initiated upon the path, retreated in haste, as though even proximity to that haunted ground was a transgression against the natural order.

Those few who had schemed to seize the entwined pair for their own gain found their ambitions turned to ash. Cold sweat trickled down their spines.

Especially the Zhao brothers, they were filled with a newfound gratitude for their hesitance in approaching the forbidden area. In their minds the thousand paces was now not just a measure of distance, but the boundary to a fatal abyss. Wang Lin’s image was now burned into the very essence of their minds – his name was a whispered warning, and his presence was an eternal curse.

Wang Lin moved with purpose, extending a hand. The bone pattern on his hand retreated, fading into his skin. Unhesitating, he traversed the ground until he stood before the paralyzed Tang Yanyun. With two fingers of his right hand, imbued with the power of Nothingness, he reached out to strike.

Tang Yanyun, paralyzed by terror, trembled, a desperate flicker of flight ignited in his eyes. In a desperate attempt to escape, he prepared to tear a hole in reality and escape. Before he could complete the action, Wang Lin snorted derisively and stamped down. The power he used to touch nothing and move past any object now squeezed and pressed upon every piece of energy within a hundred paces and choked all escape.

Wang Lin had developed the magical manipulation and power himself, and so well understood the weakness that it could cause in the ability to teleport.

One digit descended, landing with surgical precision upon Tang Yanyun’s brow. But at that very instant, streaks of vibrant light exploded across the heavens, hurtling towards them with alarming speed. A voice, filled with venomous malice, cut through the air.

“Slay him, and you doom yourself!”

Wang Lin’s brow furrowed. As his finger made contact, the power of Nothingness surged through Tang Yanyun. His mortal body dissolved into a crimson mist, scattered by the winds. Even his soul, his ethereal essence, was torn asunder.

“All who trespass within a thousand paces shall find only death!” Wang Lin declared, turning towards the beckoning maw of the dark cave.

A thousand paces, his inviolable domain. With him as its warden, none dared to enter. At that moment, Wang Lin had earned the right to speak such words with undeniable authority. From within the shadowed depths, a cry of astonishment burst forth from Li Yuan. He emerged, his face flushed with excitement. Casting a hasty glance at the shattered remnants of the stone dragon, he telepathically conveyed his discovery to Wang Lin: “Brother Xu, I have secured the treasures within! Moreover, I have unearthed a secret passage! I know not where it may lead.”

The streaks of light from the skies above resolved into four figures, a mix of men and women. The first amongst them was a man of striking features, but his thin lips and shadowed eyes betrayed a cruel nature.

If Shen Gonghu were present, he would immediately recognize him as Tang Yanfeng, the man who mocked Shen Gonghu before the gates of the Celestial Realm of Thunder. “A thousand paces as your inviolable ground? By what right do you claim such dominion?” sneered a middle-aged man at Tang Yanfeng’s side. He took a deliberate step, entering the forbidden territory. Behind him, a haughty youth mirrored his actions, crossing the boundary with a sneering arrogance.

Wang Lin’s countenance remained serene as he turned his gaze upon the middle-aged man.