Lightning danced upon Wang Lin’s form, crackling with a crispness that shattered the serene silence. He strode forward, the ancient flagstones beneath his feet groaning in protest.

As he emerged from the Thunder Pool’s embrace, the aspirants vying for prestigious titles recoiled, their eyes reflecting a mixture of awe and trepidation.

A hushed silence yielded to a cacophony of whispers, a testament to the profound impact of this unexpected display. Xu Mu, as he was known, had indelibly etched himself into the minds of all who beheld him.

“To challenge the guardian of Humanity’s Gate, then devour the Thunder Spirit at Earth’s Gate! Such feats defy the capabilities of ordinary cultivators!” one voice exclaimed. “What wonders await us at the Gate of Heaven?”

“Xu Mu, the Demonic Prodigy! The rumors were true, a force to be reckoned with!” another declared, their voice laced with conviction.

“This one is no simpleton. He is not to be trifled with. Among the Hundred and Eight Immortals, he shall surely claim a place within the top three!”

Even the venerable elders seated upon their cushions observed Wang Lin with newfound admiration, their eyes gleaming with approval. It was cultivators of his caliber that the Luo Tian Starfield yearned for.

The patriarch of the Xiang clan nodded in satisfaction, unconcerned with the damage inflicted upon the Thunder Immortal Palace. Xu Mu embodied the very essence of his clan, radiating an aura of formidable power.

The two emissaries of the Thunder Immortal Palace stood speechless, their drums silenced. They had realized that even the most relentless drumming could not deter this young man. Exchanging wry glances, they harbored no envy, only a begrudging respect.

Wang Lin remained unfazed by the commotion. Stepping beyond the Thunder Pool’s threshold, he offered a respectful bow to Yan Leizi. “This junior acted rashly. I beseech you, Senior, do not hold it against me.” His words echoed the humility of his esteemed senior, the Immortal Sovereign Qing Shui, who responded with a knowing smile.

Yan Leizi chuckled heartily. “Fear not! The sacrifice of a mere Thunder Pool and a fragmented Thunder Spirit is a worthy price to elevate a promising scion of the Luo Tian Starfield. As for the destruction wrought upon the Pool, you shall compensate through meritorious deeds in the Alliance Starfield!” With a flick of his wrist, the heavens seemed to tremble, as boundless power coalesced before his fingers, birthing a single, radiant rune.

The rune pulsed with vibrant life, and Wang Lin’s pupils constricted. He sensed within its core a faint trace of primordial essence!

Though minuscule, this sliver of true power imbued the rune with immeasurable potency.

Yan Leizi launched the rune, which hurtled towards the ravaged Thunder Pool. Upon impact, it dissolved into a wave of energy, engulfing the desolate expanse. Fuelled by the essence within, time itself seemed to unravel. The shattered flagstones reconstituted themselves, piecing together in reverse order.

Even the dust and fragments that had long since scattered were drawn back from the void, reforming the ancient stones.

In a mere heartbeat, the transformation was complete, the Thunder Pool restored to its former glory, save for the missing lightning.

Wang Lin gazed upon this spectacle, a glimmer of understanding dawning within him.

“Now remains the final trial, the Gate of Heaven!” Yan Leizi announced, turning to Lie Yunzi of the Zhan clan. “Lie Yunzi, my friend, the stage is yours!”

Lie Yunzi raised his hand and cleaved a rift in the air before him. A chilling gust swept forth as he reached into the void, withdrawing a time-worn scroll.

This ancient artifact exuded an aura of antiquity and profound history.

With a flick of his wrist, Lie Yunzi unfurled the scroll, revealing a pristine white canvas upon which a single word was emblazoned: **WAR!**

Though a single word, it radiated a palpable killing intent, transporting all who beheld it to a blood-soaked battlefield.

“The Zhan Clan’s treasure, the War Calligraphy!”

“One of the Luo Tian Starfield’s eighteen supreme treasures! Only members of the Zhan clan are granted access to this artifact. Truly, we are fortunate to witness such power!”

“Indeed! Legend has it that the Zhan clan was once known by another name. Their ancestor, through sheer dedication and mastery of this very War Calligraphy, adopted the name Zhan, becoming the renowned War Clan of the Luo Tian!”

A chorus of whispers filled the air. Lie Yunzi, his expression serene, declared, “I shall oversee the Gate of Heaven.” With a casual wave, he unleashed a gentle gust of wind.

Dozens of aspirants were swept away, unable to resist the unseen force. They were transported to the sky, vanishing into a shimmering portal. Those dismissed were the first to falter at the second gate, leaving a mere one hundred and forty-seven to face the final trial.

“At the Gate of Heaven, you shall contemplate the War Calligraphy for ten breaths. After that, your worth will be known to me, without a word spoken,” Lie Yunzi said. His cryptic words sparked confusion, but his formidable reputation commanded silence.

“Zhan Konglie, you shall be first,” Lie Yunzi commanded, his gaze settling upon the young warrior.

“As you command, Ancestor!” Zhan Konglie replied, drawing a deep breath. He stepped onto the newly restored flagstones and gazed upon the floating War Calligraphy. He appeared to enter a trance, utterly captivated by the scroll.

Wang Lin watched with growing intensity. By the fifth breath, Zhan Konglie’s consciousness seemed to splinter into two, one merging with the essence of the War Calligraphy.

In that instant, a fleeting wisp of primordial power, infinitesimally weaker than that of Yan Leizi, emanated from the scroll and flowed into Zhan Konglie. But by the tenth breath, it collapsed, as if Zhan Konglie’s form was incapable of containing even the slightest measure of true essence.
The shift was so subtle, so utterly minute, that any ordinary cultivator would have been blind to it. Had Wang Lin not glimpsed the Third Step through the celestial bead, he too would have remained ignorant. But in that moment, the scene before his eyes ignited a tempest within his soul!

“The War Calligraphy… it holds the power of Origin!” Wang Lin gasped, his breath catching in his throat.

“Zhan Konglie, deemed worthy!” Lie Yunzi’s voice echoed with serene judgment, the words flowing like a measured stream.

At this pronouncement, Zhan Konglie snapped from his trance-like state. Awakening, he was instantly drenched in sweat, his face drained of all color, a deathly pallor clinging to his skin. He gulped air, each breath ragged, as if he had just survived a brutal battle. Retreating several paces, he bowed with respect, then withdrew from the thousand-foot azure stone.

Around them, the gathered cultivators, particularly those vying for the title of Envoy, remained largely oblivious to the profound mystery unfolding. They could not fathom why Zhan Konglie had passed with such apparent ease, and their minds swirled with conjecture.

One after another, aspirants stepped onto the stone, their gazes drawn upward to the War Calligraphy. Yet, of the scores who tried, eight were simply swept away by Lie Yunzi’s sleeve, banished into the waiting teleportation array.

The assembled crowd grew increasingly bewildered, unable to discern the true measure of this third trial.

Wang Lin’s gaze grew ever more intense. Those who were cast aside shared a common fate: they were utterly unable to merge their spiritual sense with the calligraphy. It was as if the very essence of “War” possessed a soul, its own esoteric judgment of who it would accept.

Lie Yunzi judged them on this basis alone. Those deemed worthy, like Zhan Konglie, had their spiritual essence embraced by the War Calligraphy, woven into its very fabric. And from that union, a faint whisper of Origin power would emanate, though none save one could hold it within.

Moreover, Wang Lin observed that most of those who passed only achieved this fusion in the ninth or final breath. Few, like Zhan Konglie, could accomplish it in the eighth.

Xu Ting, his eyes gleaming with a sudden insight, seemed to grasp a sliver of the truth. Though doubt still lingered, he stepped forward as soon as the current aspirant was dismissed, striding onto the stone and gazing at the calligraphy.

Lie Yunzi regarded Xu Ting with a familiar gaze, nodding slightly in acknowledgement without speaking.

Xu Ting’s face was etched with concentration as he stared at the War Calligraphy, his eyes blazing with arcane light. A swirling vortex of dark energy erupted from his brow, a maelstrom of power.

In but five breaths, his spiritual sense spontaneously splintered, a fragment willingly absorbed by the War Calligraphy.

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. “Five breaths! He lacks my fortune, yet he achieves resonance so swiftly. His talent is… astonishing!”

Lie Yunzi’s eyes blazed with sudden intensity, his demeanor shifting from calm to utter focus. He fixed his gaze upon Xu Ting, nodding in approval. Within their Zhan clan, fewer than ten could achieve resonance in five breaths, and those had spent countless hours meditating beneath the very War Calligraphy.

Only three in the entire clan had ever managed such a feat upon seeing the calligraphy for the first time!

“This child is exceptional!” Lie Yunzi murmured, a rare spark of admiration shining in his eyes.

Not only Lie Yunzi, but the ancient figures seated upon the surrounding cushions recognized the significance. They understood that the Zhan family treasure held a peculiar force, and the speed of resonance correlated to the ability to inherit its power.

However, few among them truly understood that this power was the key they sought, the elusive path to the Third Step!

Yan Leizi’s eyes glimmered with intrigue. He did not look at the calligraphy, but rather at Xu Ting. He mused, “This one possesses the potential…”

Ten breaths passed, and Xu Ting awoke. At that moment, Wang Lin’s eyes flashed almost imperceptibly. He saw that a minuscule fraction of the Origin power that had flowed from the calligraphy had… remained within Xu Ting.

The discovery sent tremors through Wang Lin’s very being. He knew too well the potency of that Origin power. Xu Ting might not realize it now, but when his cultivation reached the pinnacle of the Second Step, that single sliver would have an unimaginable effect!

“This Xu Ting of the Eastern Lands holds a subtle enmity for me,” Wang Lin thought, his expression betraying nothing. “Such a man, possessed of that Origin power, cannot be allowed to live.”

Xu Ting had shown him murderous intent more than once, and Wang Lin’s nature would never permit such a threat to fester, especially when amplified by the power of Origin.

“Xu Ting, deemed worthy!” Lie Yunzi declared, memorizing the name. He nodded to Xu Ting, then paused, adding, “There are three forms of the War Calligraphy. After the passage to the Alliance Star System is opened, you may seek me out. I will allow you to see the second.”

A wave of jealousy washed over the surrounding cultivators, though none dared to reveal it. Xu Ting glanced at Lie Yunzi, and even with his haughty nature, bowed respectfully, saying, “Many thanks, Senior Lie Yunzi.”

Even Zhan Konglie felt a pang of envy. He knew that only a handful of his clan were deemed worthy to behold the second calligraphy, and beyond the Ancestor and two elders, none had ever glimpsed the third.

Xu Ting nodded, retreating to stand aside, his gaze fixed on Wang Lin, a darkness swirling within his eyes.

Wang Lin returned the stare with a cold glare, then stepped forward, heading towards the thousand-foot azure stone. Originally behind Xu Ting, a cultivator named Qi Yidao had been about to enter the stone, but upon seeing Wang Lin’s approach, he immediately retreated, a look of awkwardness spreading across his face.

This was the very cultivator who had been targeted by Luo Su during their battle, only to be swept away by Wang Lin’s sleeve.

He cursed his ill fortune and hastily withdrew.
As Wang Lin emerged, a ripple of anticipation surged through the assembled cultivators. Whispers followed in his wake, for his deeds during the Ascent were sung across the land. He had battled Luo Su at the Gate of Man, and devoured the Thunder Spirit at the Gate of Earth. All eyes now turned to him, yearning to witness the spectacle that Xu Mu – the name he had adopted – would unveil at this, the final trial.

This anticipation was a palpable force, drawing the attention even of the ancient patriarchs of venerable families. Not only did they etch the name Xu Mu into their memories, but the very visage of Wang Lin was seared into their minds.

Beyond these venerable figures, upon elevated cushions sat the dozen or so ancients, those who reigned supreme in the Roiling Starfield. A subtle amusement played upon their faces as they, too, fixed their gaze upon him.

Only the Blood Fiend, shrouded in simmering resentment, scoffed inwardly. After a moment of brooding contemplation, his gaze, too, settled upon Wang Lin.

Within Yan Lei Zi’s heart, a secret chuckle stirred. Wang Lin, a thorn in his side, yet destined by fate to be connected to him through Qing Shui, remained a source of exasperation. He had proven immune to any form of discipline, and the trials of Man and Earth had brought considerable loss to the Hall of Thunder. Now, this final trial was overseen by Lie Yun Zi. Any further mishap would be his burden, not Yan Lei Zi’s. Thus, with a curious delight, he watched Wang Lin approach.

Wang Lin, stepping onto the thousand-foot flagstone, offered a respectful bow to Lie Yun Zi. Then, he lifted his gaze towards the Scroll of War, hanging suspended in the heavens above!