These cultivators were not of the Yao Clan, but merely mercenaries lured by the Yao Clan’s generous rewards.

To slay these pawns would bring no true pain to the Yao Clan. To truly wound them, one must spill the blood of their kin. “Since the Yao Clan seeks my demise, I shall begin by extinguishing their lineage!” A chilling glint ignited in Wang Lin’s eyes, his killing intent surging. In the distance, a Yao Clan warrior swiftly approached, his cultivation having transcended the realm of Yang Solidification, reaching the stage of Peering Nirvana.

“Early stage of Peering Nirvana!” War flared in Wang Lin’s gaze. Since attaining Yang Solidification, he had never truly clashed with one of the Peering Nirvana stage. Now, amidst the oppressive killing intent, an unyielding battle spirit arose within him. As a blade of light, several zhang in length, howled towards him, Wang Lin surged forward. He would eliminate the Yang Solidification cultivator before the Peering Nirvana warrior arrived, lest their combined might overwhelm him. The Yang Solidification elder, momentarily relaxing his guard, retreated without hesitation, unwilling to engage with Tasha. His mission was complete; he needed only to support the Yao Clan warrior to claim his reward.

As he fell back, Tasha, guided by Wang Lin’s will, pursued relentlessly. Clenching his fists, his entire body radiated golden light, his colossal form, ten thousand zhang in height, pounded forth.

The resounding booms of his fists echoed through the starfield, forcing the Yang Solidification elder to retreat, weaving through various arcane arts.

Crimson light flashed in Wang Lin’s eyes as he darted like lightning towards the approaching Yao Clan youth and his surging blade of light. His speed was unmatched, like a shooting star streaking across the heavens.

Yao Changdong, rapidly approaching from afar, wore a sinister smile, tinged with contempt, as his speed increased.

The Yang Solidification elder, witnessing this, felt a surge of relief, yet remained cautious. Wang Lin’s unpredictable movements instilled a deep chill within him.

“With the Yao Clan here, this Xu Mu has no time for me,” he mused, continuing his retreat from Tasha, his gaze flicking towards Wang Lin’s path towards Yao Changdong.

The further he distanced himself from Wang Lin, the more his unease subsided. But then, Tasha’s golden aura abruptly erupted, amplified tenfold, an blinding radiance that would sear the eyes of mortals.

Even cultivators would suffer momentary blindness. Though the elder had reached Yang Solidification, he stood too close to Tasha. In that instant of blinding golden light, his eyes constricted, and he could see nothing.

As he prepared to unleash his divine sense, Tasha’s furious assault compelled him to defend with all his might.

In the moment the elder’s eyes were blinded, Wang Lin’s figure, hurtling towards Yao Changdong, vanished in a ripple of space.

The very instant he vanished, the Yang Solidification elder felt a chilling premonition, his eyelids twitching uncontrollably.

Without hesitation, he frantically channeled his Yuan power, unleashing a torrent of raw energy, a violent implosion erupting within ten zhang of his body.

But it was too late! Wang Lin appeared behind the elder as the Yuan power implosion formed, his presence radiating killing intent. Twin fingers, saturated with concentrated Yuan power, struck swiftly and precisely.

Before the elder’s Yuan power vortex could fully materialize, Wang Lin’s fingers pierced through, striking his back with lightning speed. The elder’s face paled, suppressing a cough of blood, as he channeled Yuan power wildly, attempting to flee, propelled by Wang Lin’s attack.

Just then, Tasha erupted with blinding golden light, the runes on his brow swirling and melting into his right fist. As the elder attempted to escape, Tasha unleashed a devastating blow. The resulting sonic boom echoed across the heavens.

With the strength of a peak Yang Solidification cultivator, the elder managed to exhale a wisp of his vital spirit, forming a shield around his body. But the shield shattered under the blow, the shards swirling back, as the elder’s eyes flared with hatred, unable to contain the torrent of blood that erupted from his mouth.

His body transformed into a bloody shadow, merging into the spray of blood, a spectral form that narrowly evaded the combined assault of Wang Lin and Tasha.

Wang Lin’s expression hardened. As the elder performed the blood escape, he raised his right hand, unleashing the Severing Luo Technique. The fleeing bloody shadow shattered into two pieces with a thunderous boom.

A miserable shriek echoed as the peak Yang Solidification elder, abandoning his physical form, fled with his Yuan spirit encased in a bloody halo.

All of this transpired in the blink of an eye. Wang Lin had no time to pursue. After casting the Severing Luo Technique, he formed a hand seal, summoning the Seal of Immortality, raising it as a barrier before him.

Yao Changdong’s blade of light, abruptly accelerating, collided with the Seal of Immortality.

The earth-shattering impact reverberated for ten thousand zhang, the echoes resonating throughout the cosmos.

Wang Lin remained stoic, though his blood churned within him. The Seal of Immortality recoiled under the force, pushing Wang Lin backwards for ten zhang before he could regain his balance.

“Yao Changdong, of the third generation of the Yao Clan!” A white-robed youth, radiating arrogance, fixed his gaze upon Wang Lin. Beneath his feet rested a massive, three-zhang-long sword. Wang Lin had never beheld a flying sword of such magnitude. A potent sword aura, capable of cleaving through the void itself, pulsed from its surface.

“Xu Mu, to encounter me is your misfortune. Were it another of my Yao Clan kin, perhaps they might be swayed by your pleas for mercy. But before Yao Changdong, your pleas are futile!” Yao Changdong’s arrogance was palpable. Inwardly, he seethed, “I must slay this Xu Mu before Yao Bingyun arrives, or else that cold woman will steal all the glory!”
Wang Lin, his visage serene and eyes like glacial ice, had long discerned the haughty air of those hailing from the Luo Tian Starfield. This arrogance, forged within the crucible of familial cultivation, stood in stark contrast to the cutthroat reality of the Alliance Starfield, where betrayal and relentless struggle were the daily bread.

With a measured nod, Wang Lin clasped his hands, preparing to speak. But before a word could escape his lips, a torrent of nascent spirit essence erupted forth, coalescing into a spectral blade. With blinding speed, it hurtled toward Yao Changdong.

Simultaneously, Wang Lin stepped forward, vanishing into the ethereal void.

The spirit-essence blade, swift as a shooting star, neared Yao Changdong in the blink of an eye. A flash of emerald light emanated from Yao Changdong’s hand, materializing into a grotesque skull that lunged to devour the phantom blade. But as Yao Changdong raised his hand, the void behind him rippled, and Wang Lin emerged, his fingers forming a sword-like gesture, striking forth with deadly precision. Unconcerned with the immediate outcome, he retreated, once more dissolving into nothingness.

Yao Changdong’s face darkened with a scowl. The moment Wang Lin materialized behind him, he whirled around, his eyes flashing with an eerie light, unleashing two bolts of dark energy. They missed their mark, however, striking only empty space.

At that very moment, the Seal of Immortals, a colossal glyph suspended in the heavens, began to spin with a menacing whine. Emitting a crushing weight, it descended upon Yao Changdong.

Across its surface, countless golden runes flickered, multiplying into a shimmering swarm. In an instant, the surrounding cosmos was consumed by an endless tapestry of golden sigils, converging upon Yao Changdong like a divine net, seeking to bind him.

As Yao Changdong cast a dark look upwards, Wang Lin reappeared at his side, the Severing Luo incantation poised to strike. Yao Changdong snapped around, only to find his blow landing on empty air once more.

Wang Lin’s form danced like a phantom, flitting around Yao Changdong as the Seal of Immortals thundered downward. Each fleeting appearance was marked by a single, precise attack, before he melted back into the fabric of reality.

Yao Changdong’s countenance grew increasingly grim. While Wang Lin’s attacks were not overwhelming, they demanded his full attention. With each appearance, Yao Changdong was forced to react, his strikes always meeting nothingness. This elusive style of combat stirred a growing frustration within him. Though Yao Changdong had seen his share of battles, he had never encountered an adversary quite like this.

Ever since the initial expulsion of spirit essence, and his hasty defense, he had been on the defensive, unable to seize the initiative.

Just as he caught his breath, preparing to unleash a powerful spell, the gargantuan Seal of Immortals renewed its assault, exacerbating Yao Changdong’s vexation.

The thunderous roar of the Seal grew ever louder, as countless golden runes relentlessly pressed in upon him. Simultaneously, the spectral figure flickered nearby, delivering its persistent jabs.

A murderous glint ignited in Yao Changdong’s eyes. He chanted an incantation, causing the greatsword beneath his feet to shudder, unleashing a torrent of raw sword energy. In a heartbeat, the blade splintered into nineteen smaller swords, swirling into an arcane formation, erupting outwards.

As the nineteen blades surged forth, a dense aura of natural power spread, rippling outwards with the sword formation, giving rise to a tempestuous vortex. The swirling swords surrounded Yao Changdong, twisting the surrounding cosmic energies into a maelstrom of destruction. Wang Lin, now a hundred paces distant, watched with icy resolve.

“Seal!” Wang Lin uttered, his voice a low growl. Instantly, more golden runes erupted into existence, accelerating towards the heart of the sword vortex.

Above, the Seal of Immortals crashed down, shaking the heavens with its impact.

Within the vortex, Yao Changdong’s face flushed with exertion. He looked upwards, weaving hand signs, increasing the velocity of the sword array. The storm of sword energy intensifying, he thrust his right hand upwards.

The vortex of blades shot towards the heavens, colliding with the descending Seal of Immortals.

With a cataclysmic roar, the Seal faltered momentarily. Unhesitating, Yao Changdong prepared to step out of the Seal’s reach, but as he moved, Tasan, a hulking figure, flashed into existence before him, delivering a crushing blow. Wang Lin’s eyes burned with murderous intent as he summoned his immortal sword. Within its blade, Xu Liguo cowered, clinging to the hilt. Wang Lin raised the blade, channeling his power, unleashing the Severing Luo incantation. Once, twice, three times… fifteen times… twenty times. Twenty times, the Severing Luo incantation ripped from Wang Lin, draining his power. Yet, they coalesced into a single, colossal blade technique, brimming with the essence of raw universal law, and charged towards Yao Changdong.

The law-severing blade roared through the void, cleaving a rent in space itself between Wang Lin and Yao Changdong.

A savage light ignited in Yao Changdong’s eyes. The sword vortex around him lashed out, slamming into Tasan’s fist. Tasan staggered, his face paling, but he stood his ground, delivering another crushing blow.

In that split second, the Severing Luo incantation struck, tearing through the sword vortex, ripping it asunder, hurtling toward Yao Changdong.

At once, the golden runes streamed through the shattered vortex, rapidly sealing Yao Changdong within.

Having unleashed the Severing Luo incantation, Wang Lin moved without pause. He appeared above, upon the Seal of Immortals, sitting cross-legged, channeling his strength down towards Yao Changdong.

With an earthshaking boom, the Seal of Immortals, infused with Wang Lin’s power, crashed down, hurtling toward Yao Changdong.

Now, the sealing runes, the Severing Luo incantation, Tasan’s fists, and the Seal of Immortals rained down upon Yao Changdong.

A deafening boom echoed across the stars, a sound akin to a dying star.

A furious roar erupted from beneath the Seal of Immortals. A horrifying aura pulsed outwards.
As the Seal of Immortality descended, it met a power that shattered its might. The seal was repelled, its countless golden runes seemingly torn asunder, scattering and fleeing in disarray.

Beneath, the Fist of Pagoda Mountain echoed with thunder. Bone splintered within, radiating outwards, encompassing half his being. He was hurled back by an unseen force, his body a plaything of the tempest.

Gone was Yao Changdong’s former grace and arrogance. His hair, once impeccably styled, now flew wildly about his face. His robes, torn and tattered, revealed the intense fury burning in his eyes.

Before him floated a bead, the size of a clenched fist. Yet, to call it merely a bead was to diminish its true nature. It was his Golden Core, the crystallized essence of his cultivation. This orb had absorbed all prior attacks, leaving Yao Changdong merely disheveled, but miraculously unscathed.

“You are only the second to force me to use the Immortal Golden Core bestowed upon me by my ancestor!” Yao Changdong spat the words, his voice laced with venom. His desire to slay Wang Lin was no longer solely dictated by the Heavenly Decree of his clan, but now fueled by a burning personal rage.

In all his years of cultivation, never had he been so utterly on the defensive. From the moment his opponent launched his initial, almost treacherous, assault, Yao Changdong had been afforded no respite. He was trapped, desperately parrying blow after blow, struggling against the strange and potent magic that threatened to overwhelm him.

Wang Lin, his face grim, retreated. With a swift motion, he retrieved the Soul Devouring Banner from his storage pouch. Plunging his hand within, he seized two Yin Void Nascent Souls, consuming them in a single gulp. The scene before him replayed in his mind. He had seized the initiative, creating a fleeting advantage that had denied Yao Changdong the chance to counter. He had calculated every angle, constructing a deadly trap. Yet, in the end, he had failed.

Now, he understood fully the gulf between the Yang Solidification Realm and the early stages of the Nirvana Scrying Realm. Wang Lin was confident that his carefully laid snare could slay any ordinary Yang Solidification cultivator. But against Yao Changdong, it had amounted to nothing, leaving him without a scratch.

Although the Golden Core had played a vital role in his defense, Wang Lin suspected that even without it, Yao Changdong possessed other arcane arts and divine abilities to draw upon.

“A cultivation family, descended from the Immortal Realm. Within their hallowed halls, they must possess countless ancient arts passed down through the ages!”

Yao Changdong’s eyes flashed with a predatory glint. Without hesitation, he formed a hand seal, causing the Golden Core to whirl around him. Then, lifting his left hand, he pointed forward, uttering a guttural incantation: “Immortal Art, Void Collapse!”

Wang Lin reacted instantly, throwing himself backwards. Even as he did so, the space where he had stood imploded. The very fabric of reality seemed to disintegrate, releasing a devastating shockwave.

The sight caused Wang Lin’s pupils to constrict. “Immortal Art, Shadowed Collapse!” Yao Changdong hissed, his eyes alight with cruel intent.

Explosions echoed, one after the other, a relentless cacophony of destruction. Wang Lin could not afford a moment’s pause. The collapsing space hunted him, its touch a chilling caress that burrowed into his very bones.

Wang Lin’s expression was a mask of cold calculation. In a flash, ripples shimmered beneath his feet. Just as the collapsing void threatened to consume him, he vanished. Almost instantly, he reappeared ten paces behind Yao Changdong, his right hand raised, unleashing the Roaming Severance Spell.

But as the spell hurtled towards its target, the Golden Core intercepted it. On impact, it absorbed the spell’s power, rendering it harmless.

“Immortal Art, Nineteen Souls!” Yao Changdong roared, spinning around, a demented grin spreading across his face. He spewed forth a cloud of white mist. Within its swirling depths, mournful wails echoed. Nineteen grotesque infants writhed within, their bodies jet black, like monstrous apparitions. They lunged towards Wang Lin.

Wang Lin’s eyes blazed with icy resolve. He took a step backward, melding himself with the essence of the world.

The nineteen infant souls snapped shut on nothing. They retreated, circling back to Yao Changdong’s side.

Yao Changdong’s face contorted with manic glee. He seized the Golden Core with his right hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’ll risk the censure of my ancestors! I will shatter this accursed power of yours!” With a final, desperate cry, he crushed the Golden Core in his fist. Instantly, a storm of annihilation erupted from within.

The sheer force of the unleashed power was overwhelming. The very essence of the surrounding ten thousand *zhang* was violently distorted, twisted into impossible angles. The balance of celestial energy was shattered, as if unseen hands were attempting to unravel the threads of existence. Any who remained within this turbulent vortex, without the ability to restore order to chaos, would be forced to flee or be torn apart.

A hundred *zhang* away, Wang Lin materialized. His eyes burned with an intense murderous intent. He raised his right hand, pointing a finger into the void. Instantly, the Sub-Mother Devourer manifested, its monstrous skeletal eyes gleaming with dark light, radiating an aura of pure, unadulterated malice that permeated the surrounding world.

Yao Changdong paled slightly. He rapidly formed a hand seal. The nineteen infant souls screeched, spinning wildly around him. In a fleeting instant, they merged into a single, phantasmal form – a colossal, distorted infant.

It unleashed a deafening roar, yet, before the sound could fully form, a wave of grey light washed over it. In the blink of an eye, the monstrous image solidified into a lifeless statue of stone.

Taking advantage of this brief opportunity, Wang Lin retreated. He retrieved two more Yin Void Nascent Souls from his Soul Devouring Banner, swallowing them whole. Then, without hesitation, he raised his right hand, chanting a low incantation: “Wind Beckon!”

A black wind howled forth, enveloping his right hand. In a heartbeat, it swelled, rapidly expanding until a swirling vortex of dark power surrounded Wang Lin.

Just then, the petrified infant surrounding Yao Changdong shattered, its stone fragments cascading to the ground. Yao Changdong emerged from the wreckage, unscathed.

“Is that all you have? Today, you will meet your end!” He sneered, his gaze locked on the swirling black wind surrounding Wang Lin.

Before his words could fully fade, Wang Lin slashed his right hand downwards. The black wind surged forth, unleashed. It transformed, coalescing into a colossal black dragon, its serpentine form coiling through the heavens. With a deafening roar, it opened its maw, spewing forth a torrent of infernal wind.

Yao Changdong initially dismissed this wind as inconsequential. But in an instant, he felt an unbearable chill seep into his very core. It felt as if his soul were fracturing and crumbling. Overwhelmed by a primal fear, he retreated, but the black wind was relentless, clinging to him like a second skin, pursuing him with an unyielding tenacity.
A wave of dread washed over Yao Changdong as the encroaching black wind threatened to engulf him. With swift movements, he formed a hand seal and uttered a guttural incantation, “Celestial Art, Cloud Aegis!” A thunderous roar tore through the void as billows of cloud, charged with crackling lightning, erupted from Yao Changdong’s body. They writhed and intertwined, forming a protective barrier around him.

But before the tempestuous breath of the obsidian dragon, the clouds dissipated like mist before a gale, revealing Yao Changdong within, his face etched with terror.

“What… what sorcery is this?!” he gasped. Gritting his teeth, he spat forth a mouthful of vital essence. His right hand danced across the crimson ichor, and he roared, “Blood Soul Sixfold!”

As the arcane spell took hold, Yao Changdong’s face paled. The Blood Soul Art, passed down from his ancestor, the Blood God Child, was rumored to be a grand celestial technique of ancient immortals. Its highest form was Blood Soul Nineteenfold, but Yao Changdong’s cultivation only allowed him to reach the sixth stage, a feat that already drained him to his very core.

The blood writhed and coalesced into a swirling vortex that surged skyward, a crimson whirlwind of terrifying power. When the ominous wind collided with the sanguine vortex, they battled for dominance, each consuming the other.

Yao Changdong, his eyes fixed on the elusive figure of Wang Lin within the gale, gritted his teeth and rummaged through his satchel, producing a paper talisman. “With this divine sigil bestowed upon me by my ancestor, even with all your sorceries, you shall surely meet your end!”

He raised the talisman aloft. Inscribed upon it were dark crimson runes, weaving an intricate and unsettling pattern. Yao Changdong formed another hand seal, bit his tongue, and channeled his remaining spiritual essence, spewing a gout of blood upon the paper.

In an instant, the talisman turned crimson, its runes seeming to come alive, emanating an otherworldly radiance. A scarlet flame bloomed upon its surface. “Emperor Immortal Sigil! Slay this wretch!” Yao Changdong shrieked, his voice twisted with malice, as he pointed a trembling finger at Wang Lin.

The talisman shot forth, piercing the Blood Soul vortex, and tearing through the shadowy wind without so much as a scratch. It hurtled towards Wang Lin’s brow.

Wang Lin’s eyes widened in horror. He recognized the talisman – it was nearly identical to the ones stored in his own pouch. But this one radiated a terrifying power. “I cannot withstand it!” he thought, his skin crawling with impending doom. He retreated without hesitation, but the sigil pursued relentlessly, its speed increasing.

In desperation, Wang Lin rummaged through his satchel as he fell back. The God-Slaying Chariot materialized, and, pointing at Yao Changdong in the distance, he produced a talisman of his own. Imitating Yao Changdong’s actions, he bit his tongue and spat a mouthful of essence upon the parchment.

The blood soaked into the talisman, which flared with crimson light and erupted in scarlet flames. It collided with Yao Changdong’s sigil in a thunderous explosion that sent shockwaves rippling outwards. Wang Lin’s talisman crumbled instantly, burning to ash and scattering on the wind.

Yet Yao Changdong’s sigil was not entirely consumed. A fragment, no larger than a fingernail, survived and pierced through, striking Wang Lin squarely between his brows with incredible speed.

Wang Lin shuddered as a searing heat erupted from his brow, engulfing his entire being. An unimaginable sealing power radiated outward, spreading through his body and instantly imprisoning his spiritual energy and soul.

“This… This is the script of the Immortal Remnant Clan! But how can their runes possess such power?!” Wang Lin gasped, his eyes wide with terror. All of his spiritual power was sealed. He was now as vulnerable as a mortal. Had Tasan not arrived, catching him on his gigantic left hand, Wang Lin would have plummeted into the fathomless depths of the starfield.

Beside him, the God-Slaying Chariot transformed into a butterfly, its wings fluttering gently, seemingly harmless.

Yao Changdong erupted in triumphant laughter. Without Wang Lin’s spiritual control, all of his magical artifacts stilled, and the conjured wind faded. Yao Changdong strode forward, his right hand forming a sword-like gesture, aiming directly at Wang Lin.

“You dare challenge me with your paltry Yang Soul cultivation? Xu Mu, you shall die!”

His face contorted in a cruel grin, Yao Changdong moved with astonishing speed, his two fingers brimming with concentrated spiritual power. If he struck Wang Lin’s brow, his physical form would surely collapse, and his soul would be unable to escape, meeting its end with the destruction of his body. As Yao Changdong’s fingers closed in, the butterfly beside Wang Lin, though no longer guided by his spiritual energy, pulsed. It was unlike his other treasures in that once activated, it had its own cycle. Its wings flapped softly.

Instantly, Yao Changdong froze, his chest exploding outward in a burst of gore. He was flung backwards, stopping only a few paces away. Again, the butterfly wings fluttered.

A flash of murderous intent flickered in Yao Changdong’s eyes. As the butterfly wings beat, he reached into his satchel once more, retrieving another talisman. This time, however, he did not throw it, but pressed it firmly against his own brow.

An intense runic power erupted from the talisman, enveloping Yao Changdong’s body. Vast swathes of runes manifested in the starfield around him.

Explosions echoed as the butterfly wings continued to beat. Each flap caused a portion of the runes surrounding Yao Changdong to shatter. But he charged forward, again closing the distance to Wang Lin, the rune infused barrier protecting him. “I must slay this Xu Mu! He is already this formidable despite his Yang Soul cultivation. If he were to reach the Ascendant Void Realm, I would stand no chance!”

Wang Lin sat upon Tasan’s hand, his eyes losing their murderous intent, replaced by an unsettling calm. He closed his eyes and whispered, “My path is one of life, death, and rebirth, then into Karma. All things in this world may escape rebirth, but none can escape Karma!”
A power exists beyond brute force, beyond spells or wondrous artifacts. It is the Way, forged over a lifetime of cultivation, a profound conviction, a deeply felt understanding.

Millennia of practice yield insight. In this desperate hour, Wang Lin unleashed a long-dormant power – the Art of Intent. A battle of Intents, a clash of philosophies! Within these battles, victory and defeat were irrelevant; only survival mattered. Wang Lin extended his hands, his voice calm, “In my left hand, I hold the seed of all causes in the universe. In my right, the fruit of all consequences. This is the Law of Cause and Effect. This is my Karma!”

He opened his eyes. The sun blazed in his left eye, the moon shone in his right. He looked at Yao Changdong, raised his left hand, and pointed.

Cause. Intent manifested, engulfing everything. In that instant, the starry sky vanished. All around, everything dissolved into nothingness. He was forced to stop. In his eyes, Wang Lin’s figure grew to immense proportions. His hands seemed to wield a phantom whip, its ends joined to form a circle.

That circle was Karma. Yao Changdong felt an irresistible compulsion. To step forward would be to fall into the man’s Intent, and even should he slay him, he would be trapped in that ethereal realm, forever lost to the tides of Cause and Effect, never to awaken.

In battles of the Way, one could only counter with their own honed Intent. Yet, few could manifest their own Way in its entirety. This was not a matter of cultivation, but of profound perception: the understanding of heaven and earth, the comprehension of life itself, the grasp of one’s own unique path. Yao Changdong never imagined that this Xu Mu could wield the Art of Intent. His expression darkened, but he did not retreat. Instead, he sat cross-legged, a mere three yards from Wang Lin. He closed his eyes, and a golden phantom shimmered into existence above his head.

The golden phantom, a venerable celestial being, radiated otherworldly energy. He was clearly an immortal. “A desperate struggle, is it? Then witness the Way of the Yao clan! We are the descendants of immortals, our lineage stretching back to the Celestial Realm. Immortals do not cultivate Intent, but we, their progeny, embrace glory as our intent. The glory of our ancestors is the very Way of the Yao clan!”

The immortal phantom above Yao Changdong gradually solidified, finally stepping away from Yao Changdong. With a single stride, it entered the domain of Karma, Wang Lin’s prison of Cause and Effect.

“My clan reveres the glory of our ancestors. Under this glory, all other intents will be crushed!” Yao Changdong’s face was alight with fanatical devotion. As his fervor increased, the illusory immortal became even more substantial.

“The glory of the past? What of it today? All things in this world are bound by Cause and Effect. The cause…is immortality. The fruit…the collapse of the Celestial Realm!” Wang Lin clenched his right hand, his voice calm, “You glorify those who could not escape the Karmic Wheel. Their descendants cannot escape it either. Your Art is worthless!” The Karmic cage surrounding Wang Lin spun faster, forming a vortex. Within its depths lay the fruit, and without the cause. “Immortals met their end, unable to escape the Karma of the Heavens. And neither can their descendants. Your Way is pathetic! What good are a thousand immortal arts? The Art of Glory is a joke!” Wang Lin shook his head. He understood his opponent’s flawed path: Using the illusion of glory as a Way, and fueled by zealotry. Even at its apex, it could not escape the shadow of its ancestors.

The cage of Karma hurtled forth, straight towards the phantom immortal, halting just before it made contact.

“Immortals do not cultivate Intent, and instead forced the power of heaven and earth, a grievous error! Otherwise, why did the Celestial Realm crumble? Even with the strength of an Immortal Emperor, devoid of the Art of Intent, they went mad and died! How do your ancestors compare to an Emperor? An Immortal who ignores the Way can not stand against the heavenly Dao. The fate of your ancestors has been sealed by the heavens! The so-called glory is nothing but an illusion! Yao Changdong, your Intent, your very faith, is built on nothing! Your ancestors are fallen, and you do not seek vengeance. Instead you blindly praise their Glory? By pursuing the Way of Glory you are pursuing air, just like the founders of the Yao clan! In the end, the Yao clan will be destroyed!”

Yao Changdong’s eyes widened in fury. He coughed a mouthful of blood. Wang Lin’s words were like a thousand blades, tearing into his soul. He was unable to refute them. A seed of doubt began to grow.

His unwavering belief began to crumble and dissipate.

“You blindly venerate glory, and you use it as your Way. This glory is a mirage! Have you witnessed the true glory of your ancestors? Have you truly felt it? You have only created the glory in your mind. This glory is nothing more than air. You have cultivated the initial stage of the Seer Realm, but your mind lacks genuine understanding! You are a hollow shell. How could you stand against me? My Way is forged from a lifetime of loss, the pain of separation, the hatred of bloody massacres, the anguish of a dead lover, and the sorrow of a lost child! I embrace life, and the mysteries of Rebirth, and I shall defy the heavens and forge my own path. I am not controlled by fate! I have achieved the Grand Dao of Rebirth, and comprehended the Law of Cause and Effect. The only thing that drives you Yao Changdong, is glory. But your glory is a lie! It vanished with the fall of the Celestial Realm! Yao Changdong, your Way is flawed.”

Yao Changdong staggered, coughing up more blood. His face was drained of color, like that of a corpse. His eyes were dull, and he wore a bewildered expression.

The phantom immortal was fading behind the cage of Karma.

“The Yao clan’s attempt on my life is the cause, and your shattered intent is the fruit. Under the Law of Cause and Effect, I will destroy your pitiful Art!” Wang Lin roared, his eyes blazing with strange light.

Yao Changdong shuddered, and the immortal phantom above him utterly collapsed. With its destruction, the world returned to normal. Stars appeared. The cosmos was restored. But to Yao Changdong, it felt like ten thousand years had passed.
Wang Lin’s comprehension of Karma waned, his brow-marked talisman, a mere half-sheet, shattered amidst the clash of essences. A surge of weakness left him defenseless, yet he leaped away from the fading battlefield.

As he fled, a single flap of a nearby butterfly’s wing sufficed. Yao Changdong erupted, a crimson shower of flesh and shattered bone. Even his pouch of holding, once brimming with arcane treasures, succumbed to this reality-bending force. He was erased, utterly, from the tapestry of existence.

Staggering, unable to mend himself, Wang Lin coughed blood, his face ashen. Such battles of essence were perilous, to be avoided save in direst need.

The Essence of Glory was far from the fragile thing he had pretended. It was Yao Changdong’s spirit that was weak, unhardened by life’s trials, a hothouse flower unprepared for the storm.

The cultivators of the Alliance Star System, by contrast, were forged in a harsher crucible. There, reliance on clan or master was a fool’s errand, offering no true protection. Every step was fraught with peril, every misstep a death sentence. Only the ruthless law of the jungle reigned. Such darkness was beyond the comprehension of most pampered nobles of the Luo Tian Star System.

Cast into the Alliance, they would wither and die, save those few whose power rendered them untouchable.

Wang Lin drew a deep breath, sheathing his enchanted arms. Tasha, his guardian, faded into shadow behind him. Though his body ached, a killing light burned brighter than ever in his eyes.

“The Yao Clan desires my demise? Then they shall learn the price.”

His voice a chilling whisper, Wang Lin strode forward. The very air rippled as he became one with the cosmos, vanishing without a trace.

Yet, even as he faded, the fabric of space itself tore open nearby. A woman of breathtaking beauty materialized, clad in white, her face an impassive mask of ice. Her mere presence could send men fleeing, yet ignite a desperate longing in their hearts.

Her brow furrowed, she moved with unnatural speed, following Wang Lin into the void, relentless in her pursuit.

Meanwhile, on a blood-red world in the Eastern Domains of Luo Tian, stood a colossal ancestral hall. Upon a towering, ten-丈 tree beside the hall, a single character blazed: 姚 (Yao), etched with palpable malice.

Within the hall, an ancient man sat in meditation, his scarlet brows drooping to his chest. Behind him, rows of spirit tablets radiated ancient power. Suddenly, the lowest of these tablets cracked, splitting asunder with a sound like bone breaking.

The old man opened his eyes, crimson orbs filled with ancient knowing. “So, another one falls,” he murmured. “Wang Lin of the Alliance Star System, let us see how many you can slay! Do not disappoint the Blood Godspawn.”

A dark glint flickered within his eyes. He raised a gnarled hand, and a wisp of vapor escaped the shattered tablet. With a wave, the old man consumed it into his sleeve.

“Continue the slaughter…”