Wang Lin seized Li Yuan, pulling him back with a strength born of desperation. He stepped forward, his gaze a lightning bolt piercing the void, fixated on the crimson glow that threatened to banish the darkness.

Within that light pulsed a severed arm, drenched in blood of an impossible hue. Its five withered fingers, tipped with talons sharp enough to rend the very fabric of existence, inspired a primal dread that chilled the soul.

As Wang Lin’s gaze fell upon it, the arm, as if possessed of a malevolent sentience, turned, drawn to his presence. Even at a distance, it slashed the air, and the void echoed with the thunderous roar as five obsidian rifts tore open, hurtling towards him like hungry maws.

It was as if the canvas of reality itself was being ripped asunder, with Wang Lin the intended victim. To be touched by those rifts, he knew, would mean the annihilation of both flesh and spirit, as if he were but a parchment torn to shreds.

Wang Lin’s pupils contracted to pinpricks of fear. He recoiled, his right hand flashing through arcane gestures, channeling the power of his nascent soul. A bolt of violet lightning, a roar of primal thunder, erupted from him, aimed to strike the approaching horror.

The severed arm did not evade. With unnatural speed, it seized the lightning, crushing the very essence of Wang Lin’s spiritual energy within its grasp. The violet power imploded in a deafening boom, its energy devoured by the limb.

A frown etched itself onto Wang Lin’s face. He snarled, spitting forth a mote of earth, which swelled into a fragment of a forgotten, colossal seal. At his command, the shard hurtled towards the crimson arm, intent on crushing it.

With a deafening crash, the seal descended. Yet, an instant before impact, the arm blazed with an incandescent red light, vanishing momentarily, causing the massive construct to fall short.

Wang Lin’s face grew grim. He retreated once more as the severed limb drew closer, a banshee wail heralding its approach. With a swift motion, it struck, and five chasms of pure nothingness erupted before him, threatening to unmake his physical form.

A miasma of bloodlust emanated from the severed arm, a vapor so potent that it felt like poison. Wang Lin felt a searing heat erupt upon his flesh, as if his body was being consumed from the outside in.

He staggered backward, a cold dread gripping his heart. This sudden horror, this dismembered limb, was unlike anything he had faced since achieving the realm of Ascended Essence.

The chilling wind that whistled through the five rifts threatened to stagnate even his nascent soul. As the chasms closed in, Wang Lin did not hesitate. He unleashed the power of his third eye, the crimson eye upon his brow, a furious glare.

A fan of red light erupted, engulfing the rifts. Within Wang Lin’s perception, the chasms recoiled, drawn back to their fundamental state. At long last, they dissipated, leaving behind five droplets of congealed, dark crimson blood.

Instantly, Wang Lin stretched forth his right hand, chanting a single word of power: “Bind!”

Simultaneously, the bestial bone sigil on the back of his hand stirred. In a burst of eldritch energy, it manifested, encircling Wang Lin’s hand. From the dark pits that were the beast’s eyes, an unholy light shone, and an aura of primordial malice descended upon the world.

The ghastly aura surged, the bestial eyes flashing. The five droplets of blood were instantly cloaked in grey, swirling mists of corruption, creating a twisted, unnatural beauty.

In an instant, three of the droplets petrified. The remaining two recoiled, retreating at impossible speed into the severed arm. As if stung, the limb faltered, abandoning its assault upon Wang Lin. Instead, it turned, fleeing as quickly as it had arrived.

Wang Lin’s face was a mask of fury. He glanced at the three petrified droplets hovering before him, securing them within his storage bag. With a flick of his wrist, his immortal sword materialized. A flash of cold determination ignited in his eyes, and he gave chase.

This dismembered limb was an enigma. Its appearance stirred within him the memory of the swirling, multicolored vortex and the single, all-seeing eye within the passage. The two, he suspected, were intrinsically linked.

“This limb is powerful, comparable to a cultivator at the peak of Ascended Essence, perhaps even nearing the realm of Nirvana!” Wang Lin’s eyes burned with grim purpose. As he pursued, he unleashed the full might of his sword. The Slashing Luo Technique, a blade that tore through the very fabric of reality, blazed into existence. The void trembled, and a long, jagged rent ripped open, speeding towards the fleeing arm.

The severed limb faltered in its flight. It weaved arcane hand seals, pressing them forward, and the very fabric of the void reverberated with sickening thuds. Everything within a hundred paces of the arm seemed to implode, collapsing in on itself.

Wang Lin’s eyes flared with icy rage. With another flick of his wrist, the shard of the ancient seal reappeared, descending with blinding speed. This time, it struck true, slamming into the severed arm. The limb shuddered, bathed in an unbearable crimson light, and fled even faster.

It was then that a group of cultivators, a family of seven or eight souls, appeared, their faces etched with terror. They were of middling power, perhaps late-stage Spirit Severing, fleeing towards Wang Lin as if pursued by a monster.

The severed arm, as if granted a boon, changed direction, hurtling towards the family. With a speed that defied comprehension, it fell upon them. Screams of anguish filled the void as the limb tore through flesh, snatching the fleeing souls and crushing them to reclaim their essence.

In mere moments, the entire family was extinguished, their souls absorbed by the arm. The crimson light surrounding it intensified, and the wounds it bore began to mend, growing more powerful by the instant.

Wang Lin arrived just in time to witness the carnage. His face grew darker. In the distance, another crimson glow emerged, speeding towards them. Within that light was a disembodied leg.

Without hesitation, Wang Lin turned and fled. The severed arm paused, as if weighing its options, before joining the leg in their escape into the void.

Even after they vanished, the air remained thick with the stench of blood, a lingering testament to the horror that had unfolded.

(The chapter continues…)

Throughout the Immortal Realm of Thunder, chaos now reigned. Eight severed limbs had suddenly appeared, each wielding the power of an Ascended Essence cultivator, and any attempt to inflict damage only served to empower them, as they seized and devoured the attacker’s essence.
Only enchanted relics offered a sliver of hope, yet even they proved meager against the encroaching darkness. A crimson miasma, pregnant with searing, venomous fumes, sent severed limbs and shattered remnants flailing in chaotic spasms.

They did not linger, but hurtled onward with unnatural speed. Before long, in the heart of the Thunderous Celestial Realm, eight scarlet shards converged, fusing together with a primordial shriek that echoed through the ages.

The mangled pieces coalesced, forming a complete, albeit grotesque, figure. A man wreathed in white hair, his face a canvas of ghastly scars, his body a patchwork of broken flesh. One eye was lost, leaving only the remaining left eye to burn with chilling intensity.

“Clean Water Immortal, even your strongest seal cannot withstand the gnawing of time! You dared not slay me, else why weave a healing tapestry around the seal’s vortex? Yet, I thank you, for had it not been for this prison, I would have perished in the celestial cataclysm! Clean Water, since I yet breathe, so too must you. Unless you unearth another seal woven from the threads of a forgotten, ancient realm, how will you contain me again?” The white-haired fiend roared with manic glee, then lunged into the void.

His speed was astonishing, his knowledge of the Thunderous Realm uncanny. He navigated the shattered landscape with practiced ease until, at last, he arrived upon a splintered continent – the very place where Wang Lin and Li Yuan had breached a seal, glimpsing a forbidden passage in the shrouded depths.

Here, the fiend struck the land with a thunderous blow, shattering the continent into oblivion. From the wreckage surged a tempestuous inferno, a wave of crimson light. An eyeball, torn from its socket, rocketed forth and was seized by the fiend, who promptly placed it within his empty right eye.

“The Extreme Realm was sealed within this orb, and the celestial wars drained it greatly. Replenishing it will be a monumental task, but not impossible! However, I have only just broken free, my power diminished to a tenth of its former glory. I must first restore my celestial essence.” A malevolent smile crept across his lips, his crimson eyes glinting with dark intent.

“Over these countless years, a new generation of cultivators has blossomed. Excellent! I shall devour them all. While it will not fully restore my strength, it will certainly suffice for now. But before I feast, I must seal the gates of this realm, lest my prey escape!” With a chilling laugh, the fiend vanished into the nothingness.

Meanwhile, Wang Lin, accompanied by Li Yuan, raced towards the Western Celestial Gate, their speed pushed to its absolute limit. A heavy silence hung between them, Wang Lin’s face etched with grim determination. An ominous premonition weighed upon his heart – a great calamity was about to be unleashed upon the Thunderous Realm. “We must flee this place, and quickly!” Wang Lin’s eyes blazed with urgency as he urged Li Yuan onward.

Their path was crowded with other cultivators, all driven by the same desperate goal: the Celestial Gate. Clearly, many shared Wang Lin’s fear and sought to escape the impending doom. Across the void, streaks of light hurtled towards the west, each individual driven by a desperate need for speed, none daring to spare a word or glance for their fellow travelers.

The Celestial Gate loomed ever closer, the colossal crimson lightning, which plunged from the heavens into the void, now visible in the distance.

As they neared, the cultivators began to employ teleportation, seeking to shave precious seconds off their escape.

But just then, a crimson tide surged from the distance, accompanied by a raspy voice that echoed through the heavens.

“None shall pass!”

Out of the red mist emerged a figure, gaunt as a skeleton, his white hair a stark contrast to his bloodshot eyes. With a predatory step, he reached out with his right hand, unleashing a torrent of ancient celestial power that sent tremors through the void.

Ahead, a Nascent Soul cultivator was consumed by terror as his body imploded into a cloud of blood and gore, all of which was sucked into the fiend’s mouth. Even the cultivator’s nascent soul could not escape, swallowed whole by the ravenous entity.

“The Qi cultivators of this age are so weak! The celestial energy derived from them is pitiful!” The white-haired fiend scowled, then lunged towards the Celestial Gate.