A sigh escaped Wang Lin’s lips as he gazed upon the beast. He remembered a time when the Thunder Beast held its head high, its untamed spirit burning in its eyes, its roars of lightning echoing across the heavens.

Now, looking at it, he could barely discern a trace of its former glory. Were it not for the faint connection in his soul, confirming this creature as the transformed chariot-servant of the God of Arrows, Wang Lin would have believed he was mistaken.

With a wave of his hand, he gathered the Thunder Beast into a bolt of lightning, storing it within his enchanted pouch. Xu Liguo, the sycophant, scurried backward, a pathetic grin plastered on his face. “Master, your humble Xu Liguo has been cooped up for far too long! Surely, there’s no danger here. Won’t you grant me some freedom to roam?”

Wang Lin cast a cold glance upon the cowering spirit. “This place is far more perilous than you imagine. Return!” With a gesture, he snatched the protesting Xu Liguo back into the pouch, the spirit’s silent curses a testament to his displeasure.

Wang Lin moved through the colossal body of the Wang Yue, his senses stretched taut, his every step measured. Yet, he navigated the labyrinthine tunnels with surprising speed, his feet barely touching the flesh as he became a blur of motion.

He knew this colossal beast as one might know the corridors of their own home. Ordinarily, such haste would be foolish, given the swarms of lesser Wang Yue that once infested its innards. But now, those smaller horrors were gone, their essence dissipated, leaving the path relatively clear.

A shadow darkened Wang Lin’s face. From the moment the Wang Yue merged into the cosmic vortex and he had entered its body, something felt amiss.

In his previous sojourns within the beast, he had always sensed a faint undercurrent of celestial energy. Now, there was nothing. Not even the faintest whisper of power.

This, in itself, would have been merely concerning. But what truly chilled him was the slow, inexorable draining of his own energy.

He swiftly examined himself and discovered the truth: his power wasn’t vanishing, but being suppressed by an unseen force. A seal, insidious and slow, was steadily clamping down upon his very essence, threatening to leave him utterly depleted.

“This has nothing to do with the Wang Yue itself,” he muttered, “but with the place it now occupies. If it affects me this deeply within the creature, what will happen when I step outside? The seal will likely tighten even faster!”

His eyes flashed with sudden understanding. He clenched his fist and swung it against the fleshy wall, then, with a newfound spark in his eyes, he exclaimed, “The power of the Ancient God’s flesh! It remains unaffected! Here, I may yet have an advantage!”

He hastened forward, his mind racing. “This sealing… it bears a resemblance to the paper talismans of the Immortal Remnant Clan…” He carefully regulated the flow of his inner power, and soon he stood before the massive bone structure of the Wang Yue.

A grim expression settled upon his face. The bones, once radiating power, were now devoid of any celestial energy.

“It seems that this sealing force suppresses not only inner strength, but also external energy. Everything that can be absorbed by a cultivator is rendered inert here. But my Ancient God’s body remains, and that is all that matters!” Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed with a cold determination as he followed the bone structure deeper within the Wang Yue’s flesh.

“If this place has such a profound effect on cultivators, then the others will be similarly weakened. The longer we remain here, the greater my advantage becomes!” He pressed himself against the Wang Yue’s bones, and set a course toward the place where he had once sensed the presence of an Ancient God’s offspring.

A thunderous rumble and a violent surge suddenly ripped through the Wang Yue’s body, throwing Wang Lin off balance. It was as if the entire creature was writhing in agony.

He steadied himself, hugging the walls as he moved, his movements as fluid as the serpent in the stream. The noise grew louder, the echoes of spells and furious power colliding, forming a shockwave that halted him in his tracks.

After a moment of hesitation, Wang Lin dove into the nearest fleshy wall. Like a fish, he swam through the pulsating tissue, carving a wide arc that brought him closer to the source of the disturbance.

He extended his senses, cautiously probing. Soon, Wang Lin withdrew his spiritual awareness, his eyes wide. He quickly retreated back to the bones of the Wang Yue, then stopped, his gaze flashing. “Every one of those who entered this Wang Yue is beyond my power to overcome, but I have an advantage: the more their celestial powers weaken, the stronger I will become!”

Ahead, in the direction where Wang Lin had sensed the commotion, was a cavernous chamber a hundred yards across. Although the chamber was contained within the Wang Yue, the walls were now receding as if the monster itself were trying to get out of the way of the fighting.

There, two figures were locked in conflict! Wu Dongchan stood with a face ashen as his purple robes fluttered in the wind and the many rips in the fabric. Yet, despite the obvious strain, he exuded an aura of immense power, like a drawn sword that dared anyone to approach.

Behind him, a fleshy orifice gaped in the wall, leading toward the Ancient God’s offspring.

Facing Wu Dongchan was Yi Muzi, the man garbed in green. Although the man was pale, his eyes were steady.

Waves of energy pulsed between them, a silent testament to their short, ferocious battle. Wang Lin had only extended a sliver of his awareness, and knew he had not hidden from their attention. Even so, neither Wu Dongchan nor Yi Muzi seemed to care.

“Little whelp, in this place of nothingness, neither of our celestial energies is boundless! I venture forth not for that damned Immortal, but in search of power! Instead of aiding Xuan Bao against Qing Shui, you block my path. Is that not utter lunacy?”

Wu Dongchan did not respond, and his face hardened as his right hand rose. A dazzling, iridescent bubble of pure celestial energy hovered in his palm.
His gaze settled upon the shimmering bubble, and he spoke with quiet resolve, “I care not for Xuan Bao Shangren or the horned demons. While I stand here, none shall pass!”

Yimuzi, the elder cloaked in verdant robes, his face a mask of shadow, snorted in contempt. He stepped forward, his right hand weaving a swift incantation. Instantly, before him, a colossal tree manifested, its branches and roots filling the very air, choking the passage as it lunged forward with thunderous might.

“I must not squander too much power in this place. This battle must be swift, decisive. I must enter the heart of this Moongazer’s domain, and complete the Elder’s task with haste!” he thought, urgency etched upon his brow.

As the spectral tree lumbered into motion, Wudong Chan swept his hand forward. The iridescent bubble, bursting with untold energy, shot forth to meet the oncoming arboreal onslaught.

In that instant, the bubble detonated with a sound like the shattering of a thousand stars! The illusory tree recoiled, its form dissolving into nothingness under the force of the blast.

Yimuzi’s eyes flashed with icy resolve. With a flick of his expansive sleeve, a sliver of emerald wood, no larger than a finger, materialized. As it hurtled forward, Yimuzi uttered a low incantation, “One Wood, One Realm!” The sliver pulsed, then swelled, expanding with impossible speed until it filled the cavern with an oppressive green glow.

The air thickened, becoming a suffocating miasma that seemed to sever this place from reality, forging a miniature, isolated domain. The green vapor swirled, forming a prison around Wudong Chan.

Seizing his opportunity, Yimuzi blurred into motion, a fleeting shadow bypassing Wudong Chan and disappearing into the maw of the tunnel behind him.

Wudong Chan remained encased in the emerald aura, but before Yimuzi had taken three breaths, a deafening roar erupted from within the green prison. Popping sounds echoed as bubble after bubble spontaneously erupted and burst.

With each explosion, the verdant energy dissipated, peeling away from Wudong Chan like shedding scales. After three breaths, the last vestiges of the mystical barrier vanished. He glanced at the tunnel where Yimuzi had vanished, a faint smile playing upon his lips. With a single step, he moved towards the passage.

Nearby, nestled amongst the bones of the Moongazer, Wang Lin sat in meditative silence. He retrieved a short sword from his pouch, his fingers moving in practiced motions, weaving a binding spell. He separated a thread of his consciousness, imbuing it within the steel. With a pointing finger, he sent the blade silently soaring into the darkness ahead.

Wang Lin’s spirit enveloped the sword, guiding its flight as it crept towards the tunnel’s entrance. Without hesitation, he plunged it into the darkness, pushing it deeper into the unknown.

“With my spirit bound to this blade, even if it is discovered and destroyed, little will be lost,” Wang Lin mused. “Besides, who among these titans wouldn’t be able to shatter the stars with a mere foot stomp? Save for my brother, Qing Shui, I am but an ant in their eyes!” As he sat, his consciousness painted the scene unfolding before the sword.

“But they do not know. My Ancient God strength remains unaffected here… Let them engage in their grand struggle. When their power is diminished, perhaps this ‘ant,’ as they perceive me, can claim the spoils.”

Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed with ambition. As he steered the sword, he pondered the possibilities.

The blade navigated the tunnel, its progress slowed by the constant ripples of power emanating from deeper within. With Wang Lin’s cultivation, the passage was proving treacherous. However, the strange dampening effect on magical energy in this place worked in his favor, allowing the sword to persist against the swirling forces.

Finally, the spirit-bound sword burst from the tunnel’s mouth. Before Wang Lin lay a massive, swirling vortex. It rotated with a slow, mesmerizing grace, emanating an immense, irresistible pull.

Wang Lin knew: within that swirling abyss dwelled the Ancient God’s fledgling child. He saw no sign of Qing Shui, Yimuzi, or the others. After a moment’s hesitation, the sword plunged into the vortex without further delay!