A butterfly of kaleidoscopic splendor flitted through the void, its wings dusting the cosmos with shimmering, rainbow-hued powder. Hovering close was a Crimson Swift, a creature bound to the ancient Blood God, now enthralled and kept as a ward by the vibrant butterfly.

The polychromatic Lepidopteran surged forward, its left wing beating softly. The resulting gust subtly stilled the tempestuous wave of self-destructive energy that threatened to engulf all before it, a wave born of a reckless detonation.

Again, the butterfly’s left wing fluttered.

Immediately, a surge of cosmic order emanated forth, defying the laws of nature as the destructive wave recoiled, driven back as if by an unseen hand.

With the third beat of its wings, three ethereal duplicates of the original butterfly materialized before it. Their wings pulsed in unison, amplifying the reversal; the devastating wave of energy, propelled by the butterfly’s enchantment, rushed towards the rapidly collapsing vortex from whence it came.

Just as the vortex threatened to vanish, the self-destructive force, now laced with the iridescent butterfly’s subtle reality-bending power, plunged fully into the swirling abyss.

A tormented cry echoed from within the vortex, which then imploded and vanished. In the vast star-strewn tapestry of the Alliance Starfield lay a secret realm, the Soul Sea. Deep within its ethereal depths drifted fragments of ancient lands. Upon one such land, a cluster of dark towers stood in silent vigil. From the ebony edifice at its center, a vortex erupted into existence.

From this portal poured forth a storm of crimson mist, accompanied by sharp, percussive cracks. Then, the spirit form of a young man in azure robes, his eyes clenched shut and his essence frayed near its breaking point, was ejected into the world.

The doors of the central tower swung open with supernatural speed, an aged sorcerer emerged, his features etched with profound worry. He darted forward, seizing the failing spirit.

“Grandfather, save me!” the youth cried, his voice weak, before sinking into unconsciousness. Though his spirit did not fully shatter, it was weakened to a mere whisper of its former self.

From afar, Wang Lin frowned. He had felt the power of the five-hued butterfly strike the young man within the vortex. A gleam of ancient wards had erupted on the youth’s person, absorbing much of the blow. Though the protective light shattered, the young man had only been grievously wounded, not destroyed.

“A life-saving relic,” Wang Lin mused, turning towards the prone form of Lei Ji. He examined the sickly green glow emanating from between the man’s bones and pressed his fingers upon each source.

With each touch, the green light faded into wisps of fading souls.

Soon, Lei Ji was free of the parasitic presence, and he looked upon Wang Lin with profound gratitude and respect.

Among the stars, Lei Ji’s colossal form morphed into a living steed, galloping through the cosmos. Wang Lin sat cross-legged upon its back, beside him sat Bighead, still recovering from his wounds.

They drew closer to the Heavenly Fortune Star.

Ten days had passed. Wang Lin stared at the familiar constellations, knowing that they were nearing the territory of the Heavenly Fortune Star, a Tier-Seven cultivation world. He had used the time to plot his actions while on the star, and had meditated on the hand gestures used by the Xuan Bao Master to conjure the four-hued butterfly during the battle between Luo Tian and the Alliance.

He had committed the entire sequence to memory but had yet to elicit any response.

Rising from his meditation, Wang Lin gazed ahead and spoke, his voice resonating with resolve. “Bighead, Lei Ji, find a hidden star in this region and remain concealed. If I return safely, I will call you. But if you receive no word, flee without me.”

With that, Wang Lin leapt from Lei Ji’s back and strode into the void. Garbed in pure white robes, his black hair fluttering around his face, he seemed the very image of a celestial immortal.

Once more, Wang Lin stepped within the bounds of Heavenly Fortune Star’s dominion.

“A journey balanced between fortune and disaster,” he muttered. “But some burdens must be borne. And perhaps these perils are not as insurmountable as I believe. All of it, truly, stems from the Immortal’s Abode Token.”

He paused, his brow furrowed. “The Immortal Token. Because of that, the machinations of the Blood Ancestor, and the schemes of Tian Yunzi, I was forced to flee.

“Then, my cultivation was too weak, I was without power to protect myself. I could not stand against Tian Yunzi… Now, though I may not defeat him, killing me is no simple task!” Wang Lin touched his brow. His truest weapon was not a treasure or a divine art, but the Third Eye that lay hidden between his brows!

“Having seen the second Battle Word Talisman, I have gained a wisp of Origin Power… This is my greatest defense!”

“Besides, I have not broken bonds with Tian Yunzi. Technically, I am still a disciple of the Heavenly Fortune Sect.

“And most importantly, the one like Huang Long said that I was from Vermillion Bird, a disciple of the Vermillion Bird sect of the Four Sacred Sects… This is something to ponder.” A cold smile touched Wang Lin’s lips. His right hand did not rise to touch his forehead, but pointed.

Immediately, his Third Eye flared, then was replaced by five Ancient God Star points, then a ghostly bead, before the marks vanished, leaving only a crimson mark that radiated gentle heat.

“If I hadn’t gained the Flame Thunder Son’s essence for rendering great service, and gained the legacy of Power from Luo Chen, I would not have discovered this mark hidden within me.

“This mark contains the power of the Heavensflame, and a phoenix song when I focus my divine sense on it… It is tied to Vermillion Bird, and wasn’t there when I returned. It must have something to do with Huang Long.”

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed, as the Vermillion Bird mark flickered. With a tremor of his being, he sped forth.

In the distance, the Heavenly Fortune Star emerged into view. Gazing at the familiar cultivation planet, Wang Lin sighed. He would never forget when he had traveled to this place after leaving the Vermillion Bird Star, and was accepted as a disciple of Tian Yunzi.

“Centuries have flown by…” Wang Lin shook his head and strode ahead.
When I first arrived upon this world, I was but a fledgling cultivator, barely touched by the power of transformation. Now, upon my return, I could stand against even the Ascended Nirvana!” Wang Lin’s journey was abruptly halted by a low exclamation, his gaze hardening as he fixed it upon the celestial body of Tian Yun.

Upon Tian Yun, a dazzling golden light pulsed, interwoven with the dance of countless swordbeams. Closer inspection revealed these ethereal blades coalesced above the hallowed grounds of the Tian Yun Sect, forming a dense, impenetrable lattice of shimmering energy.

“Ling Tianhou!” Wang Lin breathed, recognizing the unmistakable aura of the Sword Saint within the swirling blades.

After a moment’s contemplation, Wang Lin resumed his course, flying towards the besieged world.

Outside the Tian Yun Sect, a tempest of swords raged, engulfing the heavens in a blinding display of power. Each blade was ridden by a disciple of the Great Luo Sword Sect, their faces grim and determined.

At the vanguard of their assault stood a magnificent Qilin, its crimson hide radiating infernal heat. Sparks crackled from its powerful form, and twin plumes of white vapor billowed from its nostrils. Upon its back sat a gaunt and wizened elder, his face a mask of cold fury.

Behind him, four spectral swords flickered in and out of existence, exuding an aura of immense power. This was Ling Tianhou himself.

Surrounding him were four figures of obvious arcane might, three wizened men and a solitary woman. The first man, clad in robes of stark black and white, bore the symbol of Yin and Yang upon his chest. His expression was unreadable as he sat atop an enormous gourd, attended by nine respectful disciples.

The second elder was an immense being, his body a veritable mountain of flesh, borne upon a palanquin of woven purple bamboo by four hulking men with eyes like burning coals.

The third, draped in golden robes, was as thin as a corpse, yet emanated an almost overwhelming life force. He stood alone, his face a study in cold indifference.

The final figure was a woman of middle years, a beauty untouched by artifice. She wore simple garments, like a peasant woman, yet possessed an air of ethereal grace that set her apart. Behind her stood four handmaidens, their beauty so profound as to be almost unreal. The maiden on the left, adorned in robes of delicate rose, drew the gazes of many Luo Sword Sect disciples, yet the four remained unmoved, their eyes fixed on the scene before them.

“Tian Yunzi,” Ling Tianhou’s voice boomed across the void, “your disciple Wang Lin stole the Token all those years ago. You claimed that today, destiny would reveal itself. I have come to see what that destiny is.”

Long ago, these elder powers had dispatched Greed Wolf to retrieve Wang Lin, but all trace of the hunter and his quarry had vanished, even the mark upon Greed Wolf’s soul had faded.

The Immortal Abode within the Tide Sea was of utmost importance, and the elders, filled with a growing anxiety, had joined forces to locate Tian Yunzi, for Wang Lin was, after all, a member of his sect.

Tian Yunzi, his expression serene, had spoken but a single sentence.

“When the heavens are painted with the twin hues of Purple and Azure, come to my Tian Yun Sect. There, you shall see the truth.”

And so it had come to pass. That very morning, the skies above Tian Yun, once a clear and tranquil blue, had been bathed in a vibrant tapestry of purple and azure, casting the world in a dazzling, ethereal glow.

Ling Tianhou had immediately gathered his disciples and set course for Tian Yun. The elders who knew of these events joined him, drawn by the allure of destiny.

Tian Yunzi’s skill in divination was renowned, even throughout the vast Star Domain Alliance.

Tian Yunzi, clad in pristine white, stood calmly in the center of the sect’s courtyard. Surrounding him, the disciples of Tian Yun Sect stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their faces impassive, their eyes narrowed at the encroaching armada of cultivators. Their gazes lingered on the four exquisite handmaidens.

“He comes!” Tian Yunzi said serenely, a faint smile gracing his lips, his eyes turned towards the distant horizon.

As he spoke, Ling Tianhou, the three ancient elders, and the woman of simple grace, all sensed a subtle shift in the fabric of the cosmos.

In that instant, every eye in the heavens turned towards the horizon. Even the four handmaidens behind the peasant woman fixed their unwavering gaze.

“I wonder what this Wang Lin is like, the man who once shook the Tide Sea, the man who drew the attention of all the powerful cultivators of Tian Yun…” The maiden in the rose-colored robes whispered, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

Remember her, she is important.