Chapter 839: I'm backing down. | Renegade Immortal
Renegade Immortal - Updated on February 22, 2025
As if in that very instant, he was a mere lad again, witnessing the Immortal Emperor Bai Fan with his own eyes. At a flick of his wrist, several obsidian dragons roared to life, the very heavens and earth convulsing. All living things stood on the precipice of oblivion.
Wang Lin’s gaze shone with an arcane light. He raised his arms, forming mystic seals. Instantly, the two thousand-foot black dragons that thundered around him blazed with an unearthly glow in their draconic eyes! A light so profound, it was as if the beasts had, in that moment, gained sentience, or awakened from an age-long slumber. They exuded an ancient, world-weary air, summoning tempestuous black winds as they hurtled towards the four celestial blades! Though the blades were sharp enough to cleave all beneath the heavens, they could not sever the souls of the dragons. The first blade descended with a deafening roar that shook the cosmos. It stole the gaze of all who beheld it, threatening to consume everything in its path. As it fell, it warped the very stars, as if the void itself would be ripped asunder. One of the black dragons reared its head, its roar echoing through the realms, and charged directly at the descending doom. A cataclysmic boom resounded as the first blade, upon impact, began to shatter from its tip. The destruction spread like wildfire, and with a series of incessant, thunderous crashes, the entire blade disintegrated in a heartbeat!
In that very breath, the second blade plunged from the heavens. As it approached, it conjured a violent tempest of frightening power. The stars shrieked as rifts blossomed in the void. The shattered fragments of the first blade were immediately swept into the heart of the second, bolstering its might.
With a spectral keen, the second blade descended.
A colossal roar, echoing for ten thousand leagues, replaced all other sounds, reverberating in the ears of every cultivator present. The weaker among them found their eyes glazing over, their minds reeling.
Fused with the essence of the first, the second blade struck the black dragon. A furious roar echoed, as the beast shuddered violently, shaking its massive head. But with a series of explosive cracks, the second blade likewise shattered! The third and fourth blades arrived in swift succession, absorbing the remnants of their predecessors. The third, before even striking, dissipated of its own accord, its power flowing into the fourth. Thus, the final blade became a concentration of unimaginable force, hurtling downwards with terrifying speed!
With a final, desperate roar, the dragon’s form imploded, dissolving into swirling black winds that scattered in all directions. Concurrently, the final blade shattered into a million pieces amidst a deafening roar. The thousand-league barrier of light, unable to withstand the immense impact, fractured and shattered completely.
The unleashed force surged outwards, towards the surrounding cultivators, who cried out in alarm as their elders invoked powerful wards to protect their clans.
The emerald stones scattered around the area, were forced backwards under the tempest, before exploding, transforming into stone powder, for tens of thousands of leagues around Groundfire Star, a cataclysm had arrived.
Upon a crimson stone sat a black-clad man, his face ashen, his eyes burning with an intense light. The stone beneath him shattered with a sharp crack, forcing him to take flight. The remaining five blades flew from the collapsing rocks, accompanying the black-clad man.
He retreated, his face deathly pale.
Four blades to slay a single dragon – an astonishing feat, yet Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed with cold intent. The second dragon roared, charging forth.
“You wished for battle, so why do you flee?” he bellowed. In a single stride, he seemed to merge with the dragon, a furious force hurtling towards the retreating figure.
The man’s eyes flashed with a burning desire for a fight. He abruptly halted his retreat, circling his hands before him and thrusting them outwards. “Celestial Blades, Slay the Demon!” he cried.
The five blades around him trembled, releasing a piercing chime as they spun into five silver rainbows. They hurtled towards Wang Lin, descending upon him simultaneously in the shape of the five Celestial Blades.
The dragon roared, its eyes flashing with that same unearthly light. Wang Lin stared at the falling blades, the image of the ninth level of the Hall of Treasures within his mind growing ever clearer.
“Command the winds, summon the rain, cast beans as soldiers…” In that moment, the words that had once graced the ancient scroll surfaced in his thoughts.
The dragon’s eyes burned brighter, and in that instant, it opened its maw and unleashed a torrent of spectral wind. But within the gale, there was more than just wind! There was rain! Insignificant, perhaps, but undeniably water! The black wind swept across the heavens, carrying within it a hundred droplets. A frigid, damp aura enveloped the area. With the appearance of the rain, the descending blades faltered, crackling with arcane energies. The dragon roared, charging headlong into the five celestial blades!
Boom, boom, boom… A series of relentless explosions shook the heavens, sending out shockwaves in all directions. Cultivators miles away retreated hastily, while only those of exceptional power could stand firm, their eyes wide with awe as they witnessed the clash of two mighty techniques! The echoes of the dragon’s roar faded, and its form slowly dissipated. The black wind vanished into nothingness. Wang Lin’s face was slightly pale, and he stepped back a few times, with a flicker of light coming from his eyes.
“This man is my equal in power, yet a formidable foe!” Wang Lin’s eyes flashed before disappearing into nothingness.
The black-clad man retreated swiftly, all color drained from his face. The shattering of the five blades wounded his spirit, yet his eyes were filled not with fear, but with an even greater hunger for battle.
With a wild laugh, he planted his right foot firmly, halting his backward momentum. As his foot struck, a colossal crack resounded through the void. Cracks appeared behind him.
“Exquisite!! Since my mastery of the Blade Way, I have met no equal save for the most powerful seniors! I, Nangong Han, am the first beneath Yin Void, the first beneath Kui Nirvana! You, are worthy to be my opponent!”
A malicious cackle erupted from the black-clad Nangong Bing as his hands blurred in arcane gestures. The very air shimmered before him, space itself twisting to birth nine spectral blades, ephemeral yet menacing.
But as these phantom weapons materialized, a ripple tore through the void beside him. Wang Lin strode forth, fingers forming a living sword. Without hesitation, he unleashed a thrust, a point of light imbued with his Dao and the power of the nascent Soul-Seer. From the tip bloomed a yin-yang sigil of black and white, swirling like a binding seal, hurtling toward Nangong Bing!
Nangong Bing whirled, recoiling as his hands wove frantically, summoning his spectral blades to intercept. But Wang Lin’s assault was too swift, his proximity too close. Only two of the illusory daggers found their mark, only to shatter under the merciless gaze and piercing point of Wang Lin’s attack. In that fleeting moment of disruption, Wang Lin’s fingers descended toward Nangong Bing’s brow.
Nangong Bing’s pupils contracted in primal fear. A wave of mortal dread, unlike any he had known, washed over him. Instinctively, he thrust out a palm, a sheet of silver light erupting from his flesh to meet Wang Lin’s descending digits.
A thunderous boom echoed as raw power detonated between them. A tidal wave of force slammed into Nangong Bing, forcing him back, blood welling in his chest, barely suppressed. But far more horrifying was the insidious energy now coursing through him, two rivulets of black and white, relentlessly tearing him apart. He felt the weight of a profound, unyielding intent emanating from within them.
Wang Lin’s fingers, though numb, held firm. His victory lay in the element of surprise. Though Nangong Bing’s counter had sent a surge of power into him, Wang Lin braced against it. Still, Nangong Bing’s own energy, sharp as a honed blade, tore through his defenses, threatening to rend him asunder.
A cold glint flashed in Wang Lin’s eyes. He did not falter, did not retreat. Instead, he stepped forward, dissolving into nothingness.
Seeing Wang Lin vanish, Nangong Bing’s pupils shrank once more. His hands flew into a rapid sequence of incantations. “Nine-Bend Blade Formation!” he shrieked. The shattered spectral blades reformed, intertwining with their seven brethren, forming a swirling vortex of silver threads. These threads coalesced around Nangong Bing, forming a protective cocoon, then exploded outwards in a deadly spray.
Wang Lin rematerialized a mere three lengths away. As the lethal strands approached, the beast bone sigil on his right hand flickered to life, unleashing a wave of spectral light. The silver threads dulled, losing their deadly sheen. Seizing this momentary reprieve, Wang Lin suppressed his injuries and vanished again.
Nangong Bing gasped, retreating rapidly. “Stop! I yield! I concede defeat!” he cried, his voice ringing with desperation. “This is impossible! You wield the Shrinking Earth technique! How can I fight you?” He frantically changed course, retreating with each panicked word.
“I said I surrender! I’m yielding, alright? No more! Leave me be!”
Nangong Bing forced a wry smile. He never imagined it would come to this. Yet, to face a Soul-Seer with mastery over the Shrinking Earth was an insurmountable disadvantage.
With these words, the carefully crafted image of a peerless Daoist shattered. Twenty lengths away, Wang Lin materialized, a frown etching his face as he regarded Nangong Bing.
In all his battles, he had never encountered such a… character.
“No more, I tell you! I’ll wait until I master the Shrinking Earth myself! Then we can fight. As it stands, I’m at a disadvantage. I can’t win.” Nangong Bing’s face contorted in exasperation as he retreated towards a crimson stone. A cultivator seated upon it, recognizing the dire situation, yielded his place with haste.
Wang Lin paused, then swept his gaze across the assembled crowd. “Are there any other challengers?” he inquired, his voice calm.
Silence descended. Shen Gonghu, who had watched the duel unfold, noticed that the previously dimmed light in his eyes now shone with a new intensity, with respect rather than fanaticism.
The assembled cultivators exchanged glances, but no one stepped forward.
“Xu Mu,” the elder in violet robes spoke, his voice resonating with authority, “First among the one hundred and eight immortals of the Southern Domain. In seven days, when the remaining one hundred and seven have been chosen, you shall accompany me to the Thunder Immortal Palace!”