Within a thousand leagues, the scattered raindrops shimmered like a thousand crystal jewels, their radiant light unfurling to blanket the land with an aura of somber stillness.

Yet, a peculiar enchantment wove itself around Wang Lin. The raindrops that descended upon him, far from bringing a chill, felt like a deluge of warmth, pouring into his weary body and gently replenishing his depleted spiritual energy.

He stood transfixed, his gaze fixed upon Qing Shui, the words echoing in his heart like the tolling of a distant bell. A profound emotion, long dormant, stirred within him – a feeling he had not known for an age.

A faint echo of it remained from his days on Suzaku, stirred by the presence of Master Duntian of the Soul Refining Sect. It echoed in the camaraderie of Situ Nan, and in the presence of Tian Yunzi, whom he first encountered upon achieving Divinity. Even with Zhou Yi, he had sensed this inexplicable resonance.

Wang Lin’s creed was simple: “Do no harm unless provoked.” But also, he held deep reverence for those who offered him kindness, even the smallest of gestures. He enshrined such benefactors within his heart, cherishing them above all else.

The grace of Duntian was etched in his memory, a vow to bring glory to the Soul Refining Sect forever present.

Situ Nan’s friendship was a treasure. He would readily offer him the God Hunting Car without hesitation. Should peril befall Situ Nan, Wang Lin knew he would risk oblivion to save him, driven by the debt of gratitude. He had done so many things to repay Zhou Yi, and never forgot his kindness.

Even Tian Yunzi, upon his apotheosis, had earned his gratitude. It was this debt that kept Wang Lin from recognizing the truth, and that pushed him to break free from Tian Yunzi’s path.

Deep within his soul, a sorrow lay that would not abate.

Now, Qing Shui stood before him, shielding him from both the Blood God Child and the celestial tribulation. All because of a simple spell, “Summon Wind,” and the phantom of a non-existent lineage.

The Blood God Child’s face was a mask of simmering rage. The omnipresent raindrops sent tremors through his very being. He was not as fearless as his words proclaimed. The Fragmented Star strike from the Ancient Godling within the Moon Viewing Pavilion had left grievous wounds, wounds that he had kept at bay only through powerful methods and inherited blood arts. Yet he knew that against Qing Shui, these wounds would be his undoing.

He, an ancestor of a Celestial Realm clan, harbored complex feelings toward Immortals. Especially toward this Qing Shui. Clan records described him as someone even their forebears treated with respect.

Qing Shui’s name was legendary. Even at full strength, the Blood God Child could not guarantee victory. Moreover, those of their caliber did not engage lightly. The clash would be earth-shattering. The myriad raindrops, stirred as one, became like razor edges and roared through the air with untold celestial power, whispering of a true Immortal’s grace. The drops became a swarm, attacking the Blood God Child.

Each drop contained a formidable force. One could shatter the physical form of a peak Nirvana Exalt. Ten, extinguish a Yin Soul. A hundred, obliterate a Yang Essence. A thousand would force even a Nirvana Scryer to flee. The raindrops pierced through reality itself, and they approached. Even the Blood God Child recoiled.

He raised his hands and roared, summoning a tempestuous thunder that reverberated like the dawn of creation. The sound rolled and echoed as a cyclone arose and enwrapped him. He summoned a force like the thunder of the Immortal Realm: a tornado. This spell was recorded in the eighth level of Wang Lin’s Tower of Treasures. The Blood God Child glared at the heavens, sending the tornado outwards to devastate the raindrops. Where they met, the impact shook the land. Collisions created explosions, and the rains retreated from the cyclone, creating a vast wall of water.

The thunderous winds weaved through the water to make light, which covered the entire area. “An Immortal wind,” Qing Shui said without emotion. “Rain Seal.”

At the sound of his words, the raindrops began to release extreme cold, and they crystalized into shards. As the noise rose, they took shape, sealing and imprisoning the cyclone within. Within moments, the wind seemed to solidify into a vortex of frozen ice. The Blood God Child reacted, incanting a spell and drawing power from all around him, compressing it into a small, fist-sized orb. He slapped the orb as the power grew, and the orb transformed into a crane: the crimson crest, the golden talons, the snow-white wings, and it flew around the Blood God Child.
The Bloodkin did not falter. As the boundless power of Heaven and Earth coalesced, the transformation occurred with blinding speed. Through the Bloodkin’s arcane craft, graceful cranes materialized, not one, nor two, but a flock of nine! As the ethereal birds danced and swirled, the Bloodkin bellowed, “Clearwater! My Yao clan ancestors commanded the tempest and lightning, though their mastery fell short of your winds. Yet through countless ages, each generation of the Yao forged a single, devastating art!”

The eyes of the nine cranes blazed crimson, and a palpable miasma of raw, bestial energy erupted from them. It surged forth like a raging storm, and under its touch, the very ice around them began to fracture and crumble.

So potent was the aura, that the Bloodkin at its epicenter felt its power overtake him. His hair billowed wildly, and a crimson vortex manifested upon his brow, spinning with furious speed. From within his flesh, an even denser miasma emanated, transforming the Bloodkin into something no longer mortal, but rather, a vessel possessed by an ancient demon! “Celestial Art: Crane’s Wail!” the Bloodkin roared, demonic light blazing in his eyes like twin embers in the dark. At his command, the nine cranes began to pirouette and dive, circling him in an ethereal dance. A keening cry, piercing and shrill, filled the air.

Louder than a thunderclap, sharper than a thousand needles, the nine cranes shrieked in unison, unleashing a sonic tempest. The sound transformed into a wave of unimaginable power, and reverberated with reckless abandon.

With resounding cracks, the ice around them shattered into a million pieces, each shard swept backward in the storm. The collapse did not cease, but spread with terrifying speed, until every crystal of ice within a thousand leagues lay broken and scattered. The entire world seemed to drown within that excruciating keening. The sound was a relentless assault, like a hail of microscopic daggers tearing everything asunder. Then, with a resounding *boom*, one of the cranes exploded mid-shriek, dissolving into a cloud of pristine white feathers. Each plume carried the potent cry and concentrated power of the spell, driving forth in a cataclysmic wave.

One by one, the remaining cranes followed suit, each shattering in a blinding flash. In the blink of an eye, all nine had detonated, their feathers spreading in a great and terrible art that encompassed the entire landscape for a thousand leagues! “The technique is…acceptable,” Clearwater said, his gaze still cold.

“Acceptable? The Yao clan’s secret art is far from over! *Whispers on the Wind, Shadows on the Ice!*” the Bloodkin bellowed, demonic fire burning brighter in his eyes. His crimson robes billowed as he formed an arcane sigil with his hands and flung it outwards. A darkness seemed to descend upon the very heavens.

“*Shapeshifting Legions!*”

In that instant, the countless feathers that filled the air shimmered with unholy light, transforming into a vast host of utterly unique weapons! In the art of Shapeshifting Legions, each plume became a deadly tool of war! As the spell unfolded, the heavens roiled and churned. The very stars seemed to fall as the transformation spread outwards, covering a thousand, then ten thousand, then a hundred thousand leagues…

The wave of power cascaded outwards with wild abandon, radiating from the Bloodkin as its epicenter. If allowed to continue unchecked, it threatened to drown the Southern Domain in a tide of destruction! As his sorcery reached its zenith, poised to crash against Clearwater, the tempest of celestial tribulation that had gathered above them finally coalesced. The storm clouds began to recede, drawing inwards until all its energy was compressed into a single point, transforming into a celestial lightning of seven hues! Even before it struck, an unbearable aura of dread radiated from it, and the moment arrived as seven bolts of lightning crashed down. Not one, but seven! Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, seven strokes of heavenly fire descended as the celestial clouds dispersed, each containing a power born of pure annihilation.

(A hopeful sign! Heh heh, I’ll post it at the end of the next chapter.)

Those who enjoy Immortal Devil, please favorite this novel. 20 Novel Network provides the fastest updates in the entire network.