The multitude was enthralled, their gazes fixed upon Wang Lin. Not just Shen Gonghu, Zhan Konglie, A’feng, and the other two Yang Solidification cultivators. No, every single cultivator from the vast expanse of the Luo Tian Starfield – from the East, West, North, and South domains, from families ancient and powerful – their eyes were drawn to him.

It was because Wang Lin had appeared a mere fifty paces from the Immortal Gate. More importantly, he had successfully delivered Li Yuan into its embrace, making him the first, the sole soul to breach the gates of the Thunderous Immortal Realm. This feat, accomplished in the blink of an eye, had made Wang Lin the undisputed focal point of all attention.

Wang Lin’s countenance was grim. He instantly sensed the escape routes to the West were sealed, barricaded by the pursuing white-haired fiend. This obstruction was imperceptible to the eye, yet his divine sense screamed of a cage woven from razors. Every direction he turned promised a collision with invisible blades. Even the art of instantaneous transport was rendered useless; he was utterly trapped. The white-haired being cackled, his right hand transforming into a claw, swift as a lightning bolt. It tore through the air, aimed at the unguarded expanse of Wang Lin’s back!

Five rifts of raw power materialized, their passage heralded by shrill, rending screams, all converging upon Wang Lin.

Every hair on Wang Lin’s body stood on end. In this dire moment, he did not falter. He thrust his right hand forward and, in a hushed incantation, uttered: “Wind!”

In that instant, a gust of black wind erupted from Wang Lin’s hand, expanding with alarming speed until it engulfed all, seemingly replacing reality itself.

This black wind howled and lashed out. Wang Lin, within its swirling embrace, spun around, his eyes burning with a chilling, unnatural light. He resembled not an immortal, but a demon lord. His gaze, sharp as a honed blade, pierced the advancing white-haired creature.

As if responding to his will, the black wind coalesced into a sinuous black dragon that coiled around Wang Lin, its form ethereal and unstable. Yet, the moment it materialized, it opened its maw toward the fiend and roared, unleashing a gale capable of extinguishing the very fires of creation!

The white-haired creature paused, a flicker of surprise in its eyes. Staring at Wang Lin within the tempest, it spoke slowly, “This is… Wind Calling! It is indeed Wind Calling! What is your connection to the Immortal Emperor Bai Fan?”

Wang Lin offered no reply. He wove hand seals, channeling his inner energy into a tempestuous vortex. The black wind roared, hurtling towards the white-haired being. The five rifts faltered in their advance, their speed diminished by the storm.

Simultaneously, the wind spewed forth by the black dragon bore down upon the white-haired being. For the first time, a glint of apprehension appeared in the fiend’s eyes as it fixed its gaze upon the black dragon. With a swift hand seal, it thrust its arms wide and roared, “Earth Rend!”

A deafening tear resonated through the air. Before the white-haired creature, a colossal fissure erupted in the ground, lunging towards Wang Lin like a ravenous dragon unleashed from the abyss. It surged towards Wang Lin, colliding with the black dragon formed of wind.

A cataclysmic roar echoed throughout the heavens as Wang Lin’s black wind unleashed its full force, colliding with the immense fissure in a wave of overwhelming power.

Wang Lin was thrown back like a kite severed from its string. But as the white-haired being surged toward him, Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with determination. Retreating, he flung his right hand to the side, releasing a crimson lightning bolt into the distant void.

The black wind dissipated. The great fissure, as if gripped by an unseen hand, ceased its advance and crumbled into nothingness.

The white-haired being, poised to pursue, froze, its eyes fixed upon the crimson lightning bolt. With a blurring surge of speed, it overtook the lightning and seized it, pressing it directly into its right eye.

So swift was this act, that after absorbing the lightning, it melted into the fabric of reality itself, reappearing instantly behind the rapidly retreating Wang Lin.

As the fiend rematerialized, Wang Lin spat forth a single grain of sand. It expanded with terrifying speed, transforming into a colossal fragment of an ancient seal. With a pointed finger, Wang Lin sent it crashing down upon the white-haired creature.

The fiend’s eyes gleamed. It raised its right hand, seemingly suspending the fragment in mid-air. It hovered, unable to descend.

At the same moment, Wang Lin wove another hand seal, pressing his hand forward. The bestial tattoo upon the back of his hand writhed, transforming into the monstrous form of a bone creature, its head adorned with four jagged spikes. Two spectral orbs pulsed within its eye sockets, and an aura of pure malice exploded forth, directed at the white-haired being.

“The Child-Mother Dao of Xiaoyaozi!” the fiend exclaimed, disbelief twisting its features.

The bone creature’s eyes burned with unholy light. A wave of gray energy erupted from beneath the fiend’s feet, rapidly creeping up its body. The fiend grinned, stomping its foot. The gray energy surrounding it shattered. “You are an interesting Qi Refiner!” the fiend stated, bloodlust evident in its eyes. In a burst of speed, it launched towards Wang Lin. Wang Lin immediately changed direction, retreating while simultaneously reaching into his storage bag. His immortal sword appeared in his hand, and he slashed it behind him!

The Severing Luo incantation manifested instantly. In that moment, the surrounding void vanished, leaving only a single, devastating sword light. It carved a path through reality behind Wang Lin, tearing the void asunder. The white-haired creature materialized, its expression once again twisting with shock. “This… this is the sword technique of the Rain Immortal Sword!” The fiend frowned, seizing the sword light, only for the Severing Luo to detonate in a thunderous explosion.

Wang Lin’s face was drawn and pale. As the Severing Luo collapsed, he retreated again. With a chilling grin, the white-haired creature pursued, appearing directly behind Wang Lin and reaching out with its claw.
A crimson glint ignited in Wang Lin’s eyes, a harbinger of the lethal intent brewing within. With a swift gesture, he invoked his storage satchel, and the grotesque half-formed blood-body materialized. He seized it, and with a ravenous inhalation, a torrent of primal essence surged through his right hand, flooding his veins. Unhesitatingly, he forced this power outward, expelling it in a violent eruption from every pore, creating a spiraling vortex of raw energy around him.

“Burst!” he roared. The vortex surrounding Wang Lin shattered, unleashing a concussive wave of force that momentarily staggered the White-Haired Fiend.

Seizing this fleeting advantage, Wang Lin retreated, clutching the remnants of the blood-body. His left hand wove intricate gestures, a desperate flicker of madness in his eyes. The White-Haired Fiend was an insurmountable wall; all his spells and treasures proved futile. He raised his left hand skyward and bellowed, “Wind!” The torrent of raw essence channeled through his body, propelled by the mystical sigil of his left hand, coalesced into a spell of primal power. A tempest of ebony winds, far more formidable than before, materialized around him.

“Not enough!” Wang Lin lamented, falling back within the swirling darkness. He intensified his grip, and the blood-body withered further, half of its remaining essence ripped away to fuel his desperate gamble. Ignoring the searing pain that screamed of his body’s impending collapse, he continued to draw on this dangerous source of power.

The black winds swelled, expanding to engulf the heavens themselves. Eyes bloodshot, Wang Lin bellowed, “Summon the Tempest!”

His voice, carried on the howling winds, echoed like the very roar of the storm itself. In an instant, the black winds twisted and writhed, transforming into twin serpentine dragons, their scales shimmering like obsidian, teeth like jagged mountains. They lunged from the storm, circling the White-Haired Fiend as he advanced, their jaws gaping wide to spew torrents of freezing, spectral wind. The White-Haired Fiend, battered by the chilling onslaught, trembled for the first time, his eyes hardening with renewed malice.

Even then, Wang Lin cried internally, “Not enough! Draw more!” The blood-body in his grasp shriveled further, an alarming chorus of cracks and pops resonating from within his own flesh as his mortal form strained against the impossible power surging through him.

More ebony gales erupted from his skin, coiling and coalescing within the storm. In the blink of an eye, another dragon of shadow took shape, bringing the total to three. They swooped and swirled, imprisoning the White-Haired Fiend within their storm-wrought cage, spewing blasts of ethereal ice. No matter how the ancient warrior evaded and parried, the three serpentine tempests remained relentless.

A glacial fire burned in Wang Lin’s gaze. Seizing his chance, he thrust the near-empty blood-body toward the encircled White-Haired Fiend, infusing it with the last vestiges of his stolen essence, pushing it to the precipice of annihilation.

As the bloody husk closed the distance, Wang Lin hissed, “Detonate!”

A crimson flash pulsed from the blood-body as the raw essence he had poured within buckled and broke. The cascading destruction ignited a chain reaction, and in an instant, the blood-body erupted in a blinding explosion.

An unimaginable force tore through the air. Combined with the ceaseless assault of the three shadow dragons and the collapsing essence of the blood-body, the very fabric of the realm buckled and frayed, threatening to tear asunder.

Wang Lin retreated, retracting all of his artifacts. He desperately fought to control his frantic thoughts as he receded, attempting to meld his essence with the surrounding world.

The battle against the White-Haired Fiend had been brief, yet its intensity was unmatched. The final desperate gambit – the three shadow dragons and the sacrificial blood-body – brought the clash to a terrifying crescendo.

The surrounding cultivators recoiled, their hearts seized by awe and terror. The image of Wang Lin, a lone figure standing against such a formidable force, would be forever etched into their memories.

Shen Gonghu’s eyes glowed with fervent adoration as he watched Wang Lin retreat, his already burning reverence reaching new heights. Zhan Konglie’s gaze remained fixed, his face a mask of focused intensity. Tang Yanfeng, however, paled, drawing in a sharp breath as he stared at Wang Lin, his eyes wide with horror. The black winds were far beyond anything he had ever imagined. “If I had acted that day… I would have been consumed by that storm,” Tang Yanfeng thought darkly.

“He is too powerful. He cannot die here. I must leave!” Wang Lin whispered. The ripples beneath his feet multiplied as his form gradually dissolved, blending into the very essence of the world. With a final surge of will, he stepped back, his body fading away.

But just as his escape seemed assured, he was jolted, as if shoved back from an unseen force. His melding with the world was disrupted, and his form solidified.

“A fated little one,” a croaking voice echoed in his mind. “Do not be so hasty. I am otherwise occupied at this moment. I require the use of your body.”

Simultaneously, a power only he could perceive surged from the void behind him, flowing into his vessel in a manner unknown. It severed the link between Wang Lin and his own flesh, forcing his spirit to contract as a foreign presence consolidated, rapidly forming its own spiritual essence.

The spectral form resembled the enigmatic elder who had absconded with the Thunder Beast. With a gesture of its borrowed hand, it completely commandeered Wang Lin’s body.

In that instant, Wang Lin was a mere observer, forced to watch helplessly as his own flesh stretched, adjusted, and accommodated the unwelcome guest.

As this transpired, amidst the ravaged ruins of their battlefield, where the chaos of the shattered realm still lingered, a dark statue stood intact. Cracks widened along its surface, and two hands broke free, tearing the sculpture apart. From the statue stepped a dark-haired man, seemingly unscathed by the devastating battle. His face was similar to that of the White-Haired Fiend, but younger, more vital. In his eyes, there was only malice.

“Bai Fan’s celestial arts, Qing Shuang’s celestial sword, Xiaoyaozi’s treasures, and a vessel that rivaled the power of a celestial king,” he spoke, his voice like grinding stone. “You are the most worthy cultivator I have encountered since my awakening. You are worthy to speak your name!”

As he spoke, he reached out to the statue behind him. In moments, it melted, forming into a black spear in the man’s hand.
From whence springs this torrent of empty words? A mere Immortal, you say? Even a Celestial Lord holds no terror! And what are you now, but a paltry Immortal King, stripped bare of your true power!” Wang Lin watched, aghast, as his own mortal shell, with an air of ancient arrogance, uttered these defiant words. Yet, a seed of doubt took root in his mind, a feeling that these boasts were built upon foundations of sand.

Without pause, his borrowed flesh lunged forward, its right hand snapping out in a gesture of command. The very void trembled, and tendrils of ethereal white Qi spiraled into being, swirling and coalescing before him. In the blink of an eye, they formed a blinding sphere, a fist of pure celestial energy that hurtled towards the astonished middle-aged man.

“To seize the power of Heaven and Earth itself… who *are* you?” The man’s countenance darkened with concern. He swept his spear in a graceful arc, cleaving the air. Crimson light, born from the ether, bloomed around the weapon, infusing the arc with raw power. It solidified, transforming into a crescent of scarlet energy that screamed towards the oncoming orb of blinding light.

**(Note: The final sentence about novel updates has been omitted as it is not relevant to a fantasy-style rewrite of the text.)**