From the abyss of the Northern Starsea, Wang Yue, the Star Devourer, unleashed its primordial power for the first time. This unleashed fury sent tremors through the very souls of every cultivator in the region, a testament to a might they could scarcely comprehend. Where once there might have been whispers of underestimation or insufficient reverence, now, as the ancient seals upon Wang Yue shattered, those doubts were obliterated, consumed by an all-encompassing dread that resonated deep within their spirits.

The black shell encasing Wang Yue’s colossal form erupted in a cataclysm of splintered obsidian, each shard a deadly projectile screaming through the void. Woe betide those caught in the storm, for the shards bore a chilling force. Some, too slow to evade, were struck with such ferocity that their physical forms collapsed, their lifeblood ejected into the void, and even their nascent souls were unable to escape the devastation. Others were bisected by the edges of the razor-sharp fragments, their blood misting in the air, painting a grim masterpiece of destruction.

A silence, heavy with awe and terror, descended upon the battlefield. All eyes turned towards the source of the cataclysm, and from within the shattered husk of its former prison, a roar ripped through the silence – a primal bellow echoing from the dawn of creation. It was the roar of an Ancient God, a sound that transcended the boundaries of time, forever etched into the fabric of existence. The roar materialized into an unstoppable force, a shockwave of pure ancient power.

Then, from the heart of the shattered shell, an appendage extended, defying description in its horrifying grandeur. A single finger, a weapon capable of shattering worlds, materialized, poised to reduce all resistance to utter annihilation. The mindless, reanimated corpse, the Lian Shi, sent in pursuit of Wang Lin, stood frozen, its rudimentary intellect overwhelmed by the unfolding spectacle. It was a fatal moment of hesitation, for the Ancient God’s Finger was already descending.

With a thunderous impact that echoed across the cosmos, the finger struck the Lian Shi. The chains that bound the undead creature shattered into dust, and from the mangled corpse, torrents of black blood erupted. The Lian Shi’s decaying flesh was stretched beyond its limits, its skin peeling away as if flayed by an unseen hand. In a heartbeat, the Lian Shi imploded, its body reduced to a cloud of gore and bone fragments.

The Ancient God’s Finger continued its inexorable advance, leaving behind a trail of annihilation. Wang Lin, anticipating the attack, retreated, his gaze fixated on the finger, a chilling realization dawning within him. Behind that finger, he sensed the presence of a towering Ancient God, an arm of immense power reaching out to tear apart all that stood in its way.

Following in the wake of the devastating finger, Wang Yue emerged, its immense form bristling with countless tentacles. A swirling mist emanated from its appendages, and its twin, moon-like eyes locked onto Wang Lin. The horror of the situation sunk in – there was no madness, no confusion in those eyes. Wang Yue regarded him with unsettling clarity, as if peering directly into his soul.

Wang Yue’s liberation ignited a surge of valor within the ranks of the Alliance cultivators, a much-needed spark in a battle that had been a relentless ebb and flow of advantage. But Wang Yue was not merely an ally, it was a force of nature.

The Ancient God’s Finger, far from dissipating, accelerated, cleaving through the cosmos like a scythe. All who dared stand in its path were obliterated, their bodies collapsing into nothingness before they could even register their impending doom.

Wang Lin, a veteran of countless battles, had witnessed much bloodshed, but never on this scale. The casualties of this celestial war dwarfed all his previous experiences, reducing the conflicts of the past, such as the battle between the Vermilion Bird Star and the Immortal Relic Clan, to mere skirmishes. The tide had turned, and the Ancient God’s Finger, now a harbinger of devastation, was on a collision course with the formidable Black Fiend Demon Lord of the Luo Tian.

Sensing the impending doom, the Black Fiend Demon Lord’s face contorted in a grimace. With a desperate surge of power, he unleashed a torrent of dark mist, weaving a complex incantation with his hands. The mist churned and coalesced, transforming into a gigantic black crane, and the crane, with its beak, held a blade of black grass. Dropping the grass, it began to spread out rapidly, quickly covering the horizon.

As the Ancient God’s Finger collided with the grassy barrier, a cataclysmic roar erupted. The barrier, after receiving the attack, shattered, and crumbled away in the form of dark mist.

The Demon Lord, now pale and coughing up blood, retreated, but managed to pull out a wooden carving, a statuette of a human wrapped with plants. Without thinking, he flung it forwards.

The carving began to emit a black light, and the plants seemed to move on their own, coming to life. The five dark flowers began to spout and tear a hole in the air, spewing out a thick, bitter, cold, and dark smog.
In that selfsame moment, the carved wooden figurine, arms crossed upon its chest, awoke. Ruby light blazed in its eyes as it stirred to true life, stretching forth its limbs as if to embrace the void. With a sudden surge, it plunged into the inky darkness, its form becoming one with the miasma. In a heartbeat, it clung fast to the Ancient God’s Finger, and from within its wooden shell, tendrils of ebony thread erupted, racing forth to ensnare the divine digit.

Watching from afar, Wang Lin smiled, a predatory glint in his eye. “If the Ancient God’s Finger could be so easily thwarted,” he mused, “then the Moon-Seer would never have been deemed worthy of transportation, at great cost, to the Alliance Star Domain by the Rotational Lords.”

Indeed, this Moon-Seer was likely the Rotational forces’ most potent weapon in this grand conflict! Wang Lin’s gaze swept across the battlefield, settling upon the colossal, floating tree. “This ancient wood holds more secrets than it reveals,” he muttered. “Standing upon it, I felt a presence, a hidden entity dwelling within its boughs…” His mind raced, analyzing the spectacle unfolding before him. This war between the two Sanctums had widened his eyes, revealing depths of power he had only dreamed of.

Such experiences were invaluable, for his own path was young compared to the ancient masters. This war was a grand exposition of spells and treasures, a crucible in which Wang Lin could forge his understanding, gaining insight into the true might of those who had attained Nirvana’s shores and shattered its bonds. Without this conflict, such knowledge would remain tantalizingly out of reach.

Even as the Blackfiend Demon Lord unleashed his own arsenal in an attempt to bind the Ancient God’s Finger, the remaining dozen or so reanimated corpses from the Alliance side surged forward, howling in their unholy hunger. The two silver-skinned abominations led the charge, their movements preternaturally swift.

Yet, even their combined might paled in comparison to the Finger of a God! The Moon-Seer lunged, its jaws parting in a devastating roar that shook the very stars. Those whose cultivation was beneath the Fourth Stage reeled, forced to retreat or risk grievous injury.

But in Wang Lin’s ears, the Moon-Seer’s howl held a deeper meaning. His face paled, and without hesitation, he wove a tapestry of forbidden glyphs before him, layering protection upon protection. Around his body, the ancient cauldron hummed, and he hurled himself backward with desperate speed.

In the instant he moved, the Ancient God’s Finger, met by the tide of corpses and the Demon Lord’s enchantments, shuddered, then detonated in a cataclysmic burst of power! The explosion defied description, a wave of pure force that ripped a gaping maw across ten thousand leagues of star-strewn void. Screams echoed through the void as countless warriors were devoured by the expanding rupture, vanishing without a trace.

Panic seized the hearts of all, friend and foe alike, as they scrambled for safety, cursing their slowness.

Only the Moon-Seer remained unscathed, its tentacles lashing out in a frenzied dance of death. The Blackfiend Demon Lord, caught at the epicenter of the blast, coughed forth gouts of blood, his body flung back like a broken doll. After millennia of cultivation, he was reduced to a pathetic, blood-soaked wretch.

His form was shattered, on the verge of collapse. Terror gripped his soul, for never in his long existence had he faced such overwhelming power. He spat more blood and, driven by stark terror, fled in mad retreat.

Of the dozen reanimated corpses, only the silver pair survived. The rest were annihilated by the God’s Finger’s fury, their flesh and bone sucked into the rent in reality.

Even the silver corpses were hurled back, their chains snapping like twigs. The beautiful female corpse, with a strange pull, hurtled directly towards Wang Lin.

“Such treasures shall be mine!” Wang Lin’s eyes burned with ambition. He saw not only the female corpse but, in the distance, a broken fragment of the wooden idol.