The three beside him, their faces grim, knew they must strike now or perish. One bit his tongue, weaving arcane gestures with both hands. Instantly, the surrounding flora erupted into a frenzy of growth, vines thick as pythons lashing out, driven towards Wang Lin with savage intent.

Another opened his maw, spitting forth a black orb that reeked of grave rot. The foul sphere hurtled towards Wang Lin, a harbinger of decay and despair. The last of the trio chanted, hands flying through complex seals. Before him materialized a legion of golems, constructs of wood and metal animated by dark sorcery. They swarmed the battlefield, a tide of lifeless warriors advancing upon Wang Lin.

Yet, even as their attacks were unleashed, the mage who had first conjured a mystical gourd betrayed a flicker of something akin to cunning. He abruptly retreated, a silent signal. As if by prearranged agreement, the remaining two shared his intent, each spinning on their heels, bolting away.

From four distinct points, they fled with desperate haste.

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. Before him, the Seal of Immortals shimmered, casting a golden light. The barrage of spells and summoned creatures, pitiful against its ancient power, were crushed under the weight of its presence, scattering into nothingness. The Seal expanded to encompass a vast territory, then hurtled after one of the fleeing figures, leaving the others behind.

With a deafening roar that shook the very heavens, the Seal slammed down. Then, without pause, it shifted, its golden light intensifying as it pursued another escapee. Carved upon its surface were countless runes, an impossible tapestry of power. Among them, four shone with an inner life, pulsing with potent energy.

Wang Lin’s gaze lingered on these unique golden characters. A daring idea, audacious in its scope, began to form within his mind.

“To bind the Soul Summoning Banner to the Seal of Immortals…” His heart pounded with a mixture of trepidation and exhilaration.

The cacophony of destruction echoed through the forest. After a time, the Seal returned, its golden surface glowing with newfound intensity. Where once four sentient runes dwelled, there were now seven!

Grasping the Seal, Wang Lin vanished, melting into the shadows.

Shen Gonghu, his face ashen, fled through the dense undergrowth. From the moment of his arrival, he had been marked, a killing intent locked upon him. Only his swift reflexes, a desperate dodge, had saved him from oblivion in the instant of his appearance.

Even so, he bore wounds, a testament to the predator on his heels. He ran with the desperation of a cornered animal, his face devoid of color. Behind him, the grotesque Child of the Great Head pursued relentlessly.

His expression remained fixed in a maddening, vacant grin, yet his eyes burned with cold malice as he tracked Shen Gonghu. He raised a hand, and a violet light erupted, solidifying into a monstrous form. A massive, chitinous ant, easily several yards long, materialized with a snap.

The insectile horror roared, its mandibles the size of scythes snapping with lethal force. It surged forward, its speed dwarfing that of Shen Gonghu, intent on cleaving him in twain!

The Child of the Great Head’s smile deepened, now twisted with anticipation. He could almost taste the demise of the fleeing cultivator, devoured by his meticulously bred Skyfiend Ant.

“Alas, I cannot open my storage pouch here,” the Child muttered to himself. “Else I would simply spirit away his soul with a treasure and avoid unleashing the beast…”

In the face of imminent death, Shen Gonghu’s eyes flashed with a flicker of resolve. He whirled around, spitting a fist-sized ball of pure lightning at the onrushing abomination. The sphere crackled and thundered, aimed directly at the ant’s head.

But the gulf in power was too vast. Before the lightning could reach its target, the ant’s mandibles snapped shut, engulfing the orb. With a deafening explosion, the lightning dissipated, its power nullified.

A shockwave ripped through the forest, but the Skyfiend Ant was unfazed. Ignoring the wasted effort, it continued its charge, its mandibles dripping with malice as it closed in on Shen Gonghu.

Shen Gonghu laughed, a sound laced with despair. From the moment he had appeared in this cursed land, his life had been measured in mere incense sticks. He had achieved no glory, claimed no kills, and now he was to be banished from the battlefield forever.

But then, a glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes. He sensed a familiar presence, a wave of energy surging towards him. A sudden burst of golden light filled the sky, and a voice, cold and commanding, echoed across the battlefield:

“Seal!”

At the utterance of that single word, golden runes erupted, swirling and coalescing into a protective barrier around Shen Gonghu. The ant’s mandibles slammed shut, meeting resistance, biting down upon the golden sigils.

The runes shimmered, fusing together into a swirling vortex of light, a golden tempest that roared through the air. The Skyfiend Ant staggered back, its chitinous body trembling.

The vacant grin vanished from the Child of the Great Head’s face, replaced by a look of stark dismay. Without hesitation, he turned and fled.

From the depths of the forest, Wang Lin emerged, his steps slow and deliberate. Before him floated the Seal of Immortals, radiating a soft, golden light.

“Lord!” Shen Gonghu cried out, his voice ringing with fervent reverence.

Wang Lin gave a curt nod, his gaze sweeping over the fleeing Child of the Great Head. His voice was laced with steel. “You think to escape?” He took a single step, traversing the distance of dozens of yards. The Seal of Immortals surged forward, a golden meteor hurtling towards its prey.

The Child of the Great Head’s cultivation, like Wang Lin’s, was at the early stage of the Nirvana Scryer realm. He had witnessed Wang Lin’s rise during the trials of Heaven, Earth, and Man, and harbored a deep-seated fear of the man. He had no desire for a direct confrontation.

“Daoist Xu Mu!” the Child cried, his vacant smile gone, replaced by desperate urgency. “I shall depart this place! Why seek to eliminate me? Our cultivations are equal. Even were you to triumph, you would suffer wounds, offering Xu Ting an opportunity!”

Wang Lin’s gaze remained icy, unyielding. With a single step, he raised his right hand, channeling the Severing Luo incantation, the ancient magic solidifying into a blade of pure energy. He struck, a single, decisive blow. The Child of the Great Head’s face contorted in terror. The Skyfiend Ant, conjured for this very purpose, roared and threw itself in the path of the blow. But it was a futile sacrifice. The moment the Severing Luo blade touched its carapace, the beast dissolved into nothingness.

The Seal of Immortals shimmered. A single golden rune detached itself, settling onto the disintegrating form of the Skyfiend Ant. It pulsed with power, becoming imbued with a new, terrifying sentience.

The Child of the Great Head’s face became deathly pale. Retreating with desperate haste, he weaved hand seals, his face twisting into a mask of grotesque desperation. “Immortal Art: All-Encompassing!” As he uttered the words, ripples of energy emanated from his body. Reality itself twisted and warped. From the depths of the distorted space, monstrous beasts materialized, creatures of nightmare born from shadow and memory. They snarled and roared, their eyes burning with malevolent intent, and charged towards Wang Lin.

“I will use you to test my command over the power of thunder!” Wang Lin’s voice was like the chilling wind of winter, piercing the Child of the Great Head’s ears. The words sent a shudder down his spine. He remembered the trials of the Earth Gate, the sight of Wang Lin devouring the essence of the Thunder Spirit. Terror seized him. He activated his spell and retreated with a desperate surge of power.
A storm began to brew within Wang Lin’s eyes, a primal terror born of thunder, coiling and crackling with unleashed energy.

“The thunder of this world bends to my will!” He spoke, not to the grotesque cherub before him, but to the heavens. Above his brow, the spirit of the Ancient Thunder Dragon erupted, a roar of defiance splitting the very fabric of reality.

*ROAR!*

The Thunder Dragon’s decree, an ancient claim to dominion over lightning, echoed across the land. It resonated like the first crack of thunder upon a silent world, a shockwave that slammed into every soul within the Bloodied Expanse.

The battlefield convulsed as if struck by a titan’s fist. The earth buckled, the sky threatened to invert, and the sun and moon danced in chaotic frenzy.

Xu Ting, melting into shadows to stalk his prey, tasted victory as he prepared to devour the fleeing wretch. But then, the primordial roar descended, shattering the silence. The black miasma clinging to him dissolved like smoke, the earth shook him from his hiding place, and stark terror contorted his features as he gaped towards the source of the cataclysm.

His intended victim, a wretched sorcerer fleeing in desperation, choked on his own blood. A weight like the collapsing sky pressed upon him, the sonic force of the roar pinning him to the ravaged ground.

Deep within the gnarled forests, the six-fingered rogue lurked within the boughs of an ancient tree, awaiting unsuspecting prey. But as the thunderous voice ripped through the air, his face drained of color, and a force seemed to tear him from his hiding place. Panic etched itself onto his face as he turned towards the epicenter of the quake.

“That… that is Xu Mu’s roar from the Earthly Gate!”

Even Zhan Konglie, weaving through the ravaged forests, stumbled at the sound. He immediately sank to the earth, meditating to resist the overwhelming power. After a moment, a wild grin split his face, and he bolted towards the origin of the thunderous upheaval.

Every soul within the Bloodied Expanse felt the terrifying resonance, as if the heavens themselves were about to unravel. Above, the skies turned violent, and bolts of lightning, each the size of a dragon, coalesced and converged towards a single, distant point.

The earth trembled violently, as if the world was ending.

And beyond the Expanse, within the hallowed halls of the Thunderclap Temple, the octagonal totem above the Jade Stone of Prophecy vibrated uncontrollably. Tendrils of lightning erupted from the air, crawling across its surface. The sky above the temple roiled with untamed energy, as if all the lightning in existence was being summoned to pay homage to a new master.

Yan Leizi, the Grand Master, leaped to his feet. His gaze locked on the totem, his face a mask of fury. He cast intricate hand seals, a desperate attempt to quell the surging power. Only after a considerable effort did the totem’s violent tremors subside.

Murmurs of speculation spread among the observing disciples.

As the echo of the roar faded, the Ancient Thunder Dragon returned to its slumber within Wang Lin’s brow. Around him, unbound lightning crackled and danced, turning a thousand li into a veritable lake of raw, celestial power. Ancient trees shattered and ignited, their burning remains sent spiraling into the storm-wracked sky. Wang Lin’s eyes blazed with pure, untamed lightning. He felt it in his bones: He was the master of all thunder.

“Lightning, heed my command!”

With a deafening roar that seemed to cleave the heavens, Wang Lin unleashed his power. Every bolt of lightning within the thousand-li radius surged forward, converging upon the cherubic monstrosity. From above, it would have appeared as if the lake of lightning was collapsing inward, its single point of annihilation centered upon the grotesque child.

The cherub’s eyes widened with despair. He felt as if he were facing the collective fury of the heavens, the weight of every storm that had ever raged. In that instant of utter hopelessness, the thousand-li lake of lightning crashed into him.

With a deafening explosion that shook the Bloodied Expanse to its core, the cherub disintegrated into a cloud of incandescent ash, banished from existence.