The blade was a full seven spans long and three fingers broad, its silver gleam reminiscent of captured moonlight, yet edged with a palpable menace. It hovered at Wang Lin’s command, a sibilant song resonating from its core. With a sharp tap of his right hand, he branded the steel with his essence, claiming it as his own.

A resonant chime echoed as the sword vibrated, unleashing a torrent of celestial energy that danced around Wang Lin, encircling him in a vortex of power.

“Indeed, a fine blade!” A gleam of satisfaction flickered in Wang Lin’s eyes. He turned, a blur of motion, towards the next awaiting sword. The denizens of the Killing Domain were powerless to impede him, for he was now a figure wreathed in spectral warriors conjured by the art of the Scattered Legion, amidst a tempest of divine lightning rending the heavens.

With a decisive step, Wang Lin seized another blade from the ether. This one thrashed with a desperate fury, as if insulted by his touch. A defiant keen echoed, a mournful lament yearning for the open skies.

In that instant, the nine remaining blades sang as one, launching themselves at Wang Lin with impossible velocity.

As they flew, they merged, one into the other, until only a single blade of blinding radiance remained, an embodiment of honed lethality aimed directly at Wang Lin’s heart.

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with frigid resolve. Retreating slightly, he grasped the struggling blade in his possession. With a dismissive snort, he abandoned any attempt at control. Instead, his left hand wove a series of intricate hand seals. Runes of binding flared into existence, imprisoning the blade before it was banished to his enchanted pouch.

Meanwhile, the combined blade, now a vessel of pure, unadulterated killing intent, drew near. The raw force of its aura sent frigid tendrils of energy that threatened to tear through flesh and embed themselves within his very soul.

In that perilous moment, a ripple of crimson light pulsed from the barren reaches of the Killing Domain. A man in scarlet robes materialized, a grim visage etched upon his face.

He moved like a wraith, reaching the heart of the battle in the blink of an eye. With an imperious gesture, he directed the ethereal dancers, once sprung from white jade gourds, to breach the fray and swarm upon Wang Lin.

The crimson figure followed in their wake, a shifting cloud of red smoke threading the chaos as he closed upon his prey.

He had lurked here for what seemed an age, biding his time. He could not risk antagonizing the master, Qing Shui, and even this Xu Mu gave him pause. But surveying the field, the man sneered inwardly. “It seems that Shen Mo Zi shares my thoughts precisely. A pity I did not join the alliance seeking the Pure Nirvana, or I would not be skulking in the shadows like this.”

Wang Lin felt a premonition of danger, and without hesitation, surged forward, dodging the fused blade by a hair’s breadth. A quick incantation flew from his lips: “Wind’s Call!”

The heavens responded with a deafening roar, conjuring three ebony dragons wreathed in tempestuous winds. They circled Wang Lin protectively before lunging forward. The lithe dancers became entangled with one of the dragons, its ice-cold eyes momentarily clouded with confusion. But the remaining two dragons paid them no heed, turning their fury upon the approaching crimson smoke.

A scornful laugh shattered the air as the smoke dispersed, revealing the scarlet-clad man, his eyes burning like coals. He darted forward, becoming almost translucent as he passed effortlessly between the enraged dragons. He advanced towards Wang Lin with alarming speed. “Xu Mu, cease your charade! To survive unscathed amongst so many Illusionary and Substantial, Prying Nirvana cultivators, you must be one of the Pure Nirvana!”

A spark of understanding ignited within Wang Lin. He had suspected that the Killing Domain lacked a Pure Nirvana cultivator, but his senses were not yet strong enough to detect one.

Yet now, as he gazed upon the man in crimson, he recognized an aura distinct from the Fragmented Nirvana monsters, yet far surpassing any Prying Nirvana.

“Pure Nirvana!” Wang Lin breathed, a battle fervor igniting in his eyes. This was only the second time in his life he had faced a Pure Nirvana cultivator. The first was the Blood Ancestor; the second stood before him now! “He is weaker than the Blood Ancestor… Early stages of Pure Nirvana, perhaps?”

The scarlet man continued his advance, flicking his wrist. The fused blade, once so savage, trembled, now circling him in an obsequious dance.

“Let this foe serve as a testament to my true strength!” Wang Lin’s own eyes narrowed, and he ceased his retreat, clenching his fist as he prepared to engage.

Despite his composed demeanor, the scarlet man felt a prickle of unease. He could not fathom the true nature of his opponent. On the surface, Xu Mu was merely a cultivator of the Prying Nirvana, a gulf separating him from a Pure Nirvana.

Yet for some reason, the sight of Xu Mu stirred a primal terror, as if a terrible power lay dormant within him, a power he could not ignore. “He hides his true cultivation!” The scarlet man refused to underestimate Wang Lin, treating him as an equal. With a flicker of his eyes, he wove a complex hand seal, pointing his hand to the heavens. Infinite pinpricks of light coalesced around his palm. “Drawing upon the Power of Heaven and Earth!” Wang Lin’s pupils contracted. A defining trait of the Pure Nirvana, besides their mastery of laws, was their ability to command the very energies of the world.

This was their strength – access to boundless power, enabling them to perform wonders at will.

The scarlet man pointed his hand forward, chanting: “Floodland Barren Sands!” The crystalline light gathered in his hand shifted, transforming into a swarm of black sands. Not mere grains, but particles infused with celestial energy, shaped by powerful magic into Floodland Barren Soil.

Each grain throbbed with cosmic power, interwoven with arcane formations. The soil, wherever it fell, bred desolation.

Wang Lin advanced, his fist clenched. Beneath his concealed third eye, the ancient god’s star points spun wildly, melding into his arm. He unleashed a devastating blow!

A deafening explosion ripped through the air as Wang Lin’s fist struck. A spectral arm of the ancient god manifested, a gigantic fist sweeping across the battlefield. Ancient god force against the power of a Pure Nirvana cultivator!

The Floodland Sands surged like a tidal wave. As Wang Lin’s god-fist approached, the scarlet man’s eyes glinted with strange light. “Floodland Phantasm, Become Real!”

The endless grains of sand coalesced, mirroring Wang Lin’s ancient god arm. At the moment of impact, the sand formed an exact replica! This was the scarlet man’s true power. “The law I grasp is the Law of Illusion!” He flung out his arms, and the enormous sand arm struck Wang Lin’s fist head-on.

Thunderous echoes ripped through the Killing Domain, creating a tempest that tore outwards in all directions. Unfortunate cultivators caught in its path were ripped into bloody mist, consumed by the storm.

At the heart of the cyclone, the sand arm shattered, collapsing into a rain of black sand.

Wang Lin staggered, his right arm numb and burning. He was hurled backwards by the force of the collision. “So this is the power of a Pure Nirvana cultivator!” Ice laced Wang Lin’s tone.

The scarlet man was even more convinced that Xu Mu was concealing his true strength. A mere Prying Nirvana cultivator would never have stood against such a powerful illusion.

The scarlet man clapped his hands in the air, releasing his power. The scattered sands swirled once more, coalescing into a massive sand crane. With a deafening cry, it beat its wings and swooped towards the retreating Wang Lin.

Just then, a flash of white light appeared in the distance. An old man in green robes materialized, licking his lips. He hurtled forward, his eyes gleaming.

“I abandoned the alliance to avoid trouble, hiding for so long. If not for Qing Shui, I would never have revealed myself, only seeking to flee this place and escape disaster. But now that Illusionary One and this Xu Mu are clashing, it gives Shen Mo Zi a chance to earn some merit!”

The old man moved at blinding speed, a spectral blur racing towards Wang Lin. As Wang Lin retreated, the old man’s eyes burned with malice. He wove hand seals, summoning two orbs of emerald fire in his palms. Throughout his life, the old man had been defined by caution, refusing to act without certainty. Even within the Killing Domain, he was no different.

In his home realm, he had spent centuries discreetly murdering countless cultivators, stealing their treasures and elixirs. None had ever suspected him.

In the Killing Domain, he had refined his cautious nature to an art. The timing he had chosen was perfect. He was now mere seconds away from Wang Lin!

He was not afraid of being detected. He unleashed his elemental power, causing massive distortions in the surrounding energies. “Let’s see how you shrink the earth now!” The old man, Shen Mo Zi, thought, eyes blazing with intent, like an arrow loosed from its bow. He howled and flung his hands forward, but at that very moment, an unimaginable transformation occurred.

Purple mists roiled in the heavens, followed by a piercing scream. Seven purple figures crashed down from above, hurtling towards the ground. One by one, they disintegrated.