As Yao Bingyun’s eyes snapped open, a glacial glint sparked in Wang Lin’s own. A chilling smile played on his lips as his right hand, fingers splayed, unleashed a torrent of arcane power. Five tendrils of raw energy, born from his very core, coalesced and struck with brutal force against the ice encasing her.

Simultaneously, Wang Lin, with the swiftness of a startled hawk, retreated. A swirling mist erupted from his feet, engulfing him. He raised his right hand, invoking the Banishing Strike, a technique designed not for Yao Bingyun, but for the writhing tendrils that bound her. All this transpired in a heartbeat, faster than thought.

The five tendrils of elemental energy slammed into the icy prison, resonating with muffled thuds. Like venomous serpents, they bored their way through the ice, seeking Yao Bingyun’s flesh.

“Your… Dao… is… what…?” Yao Bingyun could not evade, nor did she even glance at the incoming strikes. Her face, pale as frost, yet resolute, spoke volumes of her unwavering resolve.

In this moment of ultimate peril, she abandoned all else, choosing to engage Wang Lin in a battle of wills, a contest waged on the ethereal plane of Dao comprehension.

But Wang Lin, having foreseen this very action the instant her eyes flickered open, had prepared for it. In truth, he and Yao Bingyun were kindred spirits, forged in the fires of desperation.

Even in the face of oblivion, they would gamble everything. Even in death, they would drag their foe into the abyss.

As Yao Bingyun uttered her question, her eyes clouded with a sudden, profound emptiness. Before her, a spectral figure materialized: a girl, no older than fourteen or fifteen summers.

The girl’s hair was arranged in the style of flowing clouds, her demeanor one of fragile vulnerability, tinged with helplessness. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound emerged, like a mute pleading for release.

The phantom girl emanated a wave of sorrowful Dao intent, aimed directly at Wang Lin. But even as this happened, Wang Lin’s Banishing Strike connected with the tendrils ensnaring Yao Bingyun.

The force of the strike, precisely controlled, would not harm the tendrils themselves, but served only to agitate them. The tendrils recoiled violently upon impact.

The slightest disturbance can trigger a greater effect. With the tendrils’ contraction, Yao Bingyun’s face drained of its remaining color. A trickle of blood escaped her lips, and the sound of cracking bone filled the air.

Driven to a frenzy by the Banishing Strike, the tendrils writhed even more ferociously. Yao Bingyun, weakened and helpless, as frail as any mortal, could only manage a bitter smile as despair crept into her eyes.

The physical agony failed to shatter her Dao, but the tendrils, now imbued with an insatiable hunger, not only devoured her energy and life force, but also her very Dao comprehension.

The ghostly figure of the girl flickered and faded, until it was no more.

“Sister…” Yao Bingyun whispered, watching the apparition vanish, her eyes closing in final surrender. Her life force, her Dao comprehension, and her very energy were all consumed by the ravenous tendrils.

Wang Lin had calculated every step from the moment he shattered the ice. If Yao Bingyun remained dormant, so be it. But if she awakened, bound by the tendrils, he would not falter. He sought speed and initiative.

The instant Yao Bingyun’s Dao intent spread, he acted. Although tinged with profound sorrow, Wang Lin’s resolve did not waver. Unhesitatingly, as Yao Bingyun succumbed to despair, he thrust forth his right hand, forming a sword with his fingers, and swiftly struck key points on her body. The ice around her shattered completely, revealing her delicate form.

Without pause, Wang Lin invoked a series of seals and restrictions, imbuing each with arcane energy, and placed them upon her body, working his way to her very soul.

Satisfied with his initial bindings, Wang Lin gestured above, summoning the Kunji Whip. It snaked through the air and embedded itself into Yao Bingyun’s very core, becoming a cage for her soul.

Still wary, Wang Lin retrieved the Soul Devouring Banner from his storage bag. With a flourish, he unfurled the massive banner, its fabric swirling around Yao Bingyun, sealing her within its confines.

Finally, he summoned the Immortal Sealing Sigil. As it appeared, Wang Lin chanted an incantation, his hands weaving through a series of complex gestures: “Seal!”

Tens of thousands of golden runes erupted from the sigil, forming a river of light that washed over Yao Bingyun’s form. Each rune, a unique seal, sank into her flesh, binding her spirit in place.

Assured by the multiple layers of protection, Wang Lin retreated, stepping back onto the great cauldron. He pointed towards the sealed Yao Bingyun, whispering the final command: “Displacement!”

The cauldron shuddered, as if a force of heaven and earth had shattered the very fabric of the Wangyue’s body, a palpable power that reverberated through the alien space. Yao Bingyun’s form vanished.

Appearing once more before Wang Lin, the now heavily secured Yao Bingyun was grasped by his hand and placed within his storage bag, like a captured treasure.

“This Wangyue body is not the ideal place to refine a Celestial Guardian!” Wang Lin muttered, his eyes gleaming with intent. He returned to the cauldron, his mind guiding it forward with deliberate speed.

The white mist emanating from the cauldron acted as a barrier, repelling the encroaching tendrils. It was with such a method that the rogue cultivator Tanlang had evaded the many Wangyue and their tendrils, escaping multiple times. But ultimately, Tanlang was unsuccessful in escaping the Wangyue’s domain. Still, the cauldron’s mist clearly possessed a power to conceal within the Wangyue’s body.

Wang Lin remained cautious, his eyes sweeping over the surroundings, noting those that were entwined within the tendrils as he passed.
The deeper he ventured into this serpentine path, the more numerous became the tendrils. The mages and mortals ensnared within their grasp were twisted into grotesque shapes, their faces frozen in expressions of unimaginable agony. A somber mood settled upon Wang Lin as he witnessed their silent torment.

As he pressed onward, he found no artifact imbued with the ancient god’s essence amidst the writhing masses. Yet, he did not falter. Instead, he remained resolute, advancing slowly but deliberately.

Gradually, the tendrils thickened, forming an almost impenetrable barrier that constricted his passage. However, by invoking the strange power of the Great Cauldron, Wang Lin’s form seemed to flicker, allowing him to phase through the fleshy obstruction.

Time became meaningless as Wang Lin continued his relentless journey. A change began to manifest within the tendrils’ victims. No longer were they all withered husks devoid of life. Here and there, a spark of vitality flickered within them, a frail ember threatening to be extinguished by the slightest breeze.

Wang Lin’s expression shifted slightly, and he continued onward. With each step, more and more of the ensnared possessed this nascent life force. As he pressed further, the vitality within them grew stronger.

Suddenly, Wang Lin halted, his gaze fixed upon the seemingly endless expanse ahead. A silent thought crossed his mind: “It seems this Wang Yueh begins its consumption from the outer edges. The closer I draw to the heart, the more life I find. I wonder, will I encounter a soul still possessed of its sanity?” His eyes gleamed with purpose, and he quickened his pace, heading directly into the darkness.

The number of those with life within them continued to grow, but Wang Lin did not pause to examine them. As he neared the depths, a primal call resonated within him.

The summons seemed to originate from his very soul, causing a violent tremor to ripple through his being the moment he burst forth.

“Come… Come…”

The sensation was like a tempest unleashed within his mind, even more intense than when he first beheld the Great Cauldron.

The voice held a penetrating power that shattered Wang Lin’s physical form, tore through his essence spirit, and echoed within the deepest recesses of his soul!

This soul-stirring call did not merely affect Wang Lin, but also his true form, hidden upon a cultivation star far off in the Alliance Starfield!

Upon that star, Wang Lin’s true form abruptly opened its eyes, their depths burning with a light as brilliant as the sun. He gasped, and his eyes shone with fierce intensity. “Come… Come…” The soul-deep summons continued, causing both Wang Lin’s essence spirit and flesh to tremble.

The voice possessed an unfathomable force, compelling him to move forward, to witness the source of this powerful call.

Lost in contemplation, Wang Lin closed his eyes, then snapped them open, his expression resolute. Without hesitation, he surged forward, driven towards the soul-shattering source deep within this alien domain.

At this very moment, as Wang Yueh’s colossal form contracted into a cultivation star months prior, it had fallen into a deep slumber. The surrounding starfield was silent and still, as if all creation had been frozen in time.

But on this day, a long streak of light tore through the distant void, carrying an aura that caused hearts to tremble. It was a middle-aged man, the black-robed figure who had battled Wang Yueh before!

Now, he arrived in his true form. Behind him soared a phantom black eagle, hundreds of feet in size, its eyes gleaming with a sinister light.

As the man appeared, a roaring bolt of lightning streaked across the void. With a thunderous crash, Yan Leizi arrived, standing atop a wave of celestial lightning.

The instant Yan Leizi materialized, a red glow bloomed in the distance. A vast, eight-sided formation, tens of thousands of feet across, appeared in the void. The boundless aura emanating from the formation could be felt even from afar.

Light blazed from the eight-sided formation, and an atmosphere that could shake the very heavens themselves flooded the area. From within, four figures emerged!