Before Fu Fengzi, a scene of crimson dawn erupted, the sun a burning heart in the sky. Below, the sea raged, a tempest of furious waves. In that instant, Fu Fengzi felt a strange dissolution, as if his very flesh were fading, becoming one with the boundless night.

Then, as the solar fire kissed the horizon, a searing pain, as if his soul were being torn asunder, ripped through every fiber of his being. It was a torment unlike any he had known, as though his body were being ceaselessly shattered into a thousand pieces.

A primal fear seized Fu Fengzi, and his eyes widened in terror. He threw his arms wide, a desperate cry escaping his lips, and a torrent of celestial energy, enough to shatter the very heavens, erupted from within him, coalescing into a storm. It was a futile attempt to resist the annihilating power of the approaching dawn.

Yet, as his power surged forth, it was instantly consumed, like shadows fleeing the light. The nascent storm shattered, the energy dispersed and vanished.

“This… this is impossible!” Fu Fengzi’s face was ashen, drained of all color. The unspeakable pain grew, and blood flowed from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. He tried to retreat, but found himself paralyzed, held captive by the relentless gaze of the sun.

“I must fight!” Fu Fengzi cried, his right hand weaving a desperate seal. The power of his advanced cultivation ignited, and a spell unique to the Cleanse-of-Nirvana stage, the immediate drawing of elemental forces, was unleashed.

Invisible streams of raw energy coalesced into a sphere, barely the size of a fist, but laden with cataclysmic power, far beyond the comprehension of even a nascent cultivator.

The moment this energy sphere materialized, the very fabric of the Water Spirit Star trembled, and the faces of the Three Dust Daoists turned pale. They were forced to retreat.

Even Big Head and the others dared not approach. Before such divine power, they were but motes of dust.

Fu Fengzi, his hair wild and unkempt, was driven to the edge of desperation. He no longer sought to slay Wang Lin, but merely to survive this impossible assault.

“What… what sorcery is this? It resonates with an unimaginable rule of the universe, a power no Cleanse-of-Nirvana cultivator could possess!” Fu Fengzi roared, his shaking hand thrusting the energy sphere forward, like a bolt of lightning aimed at the rising sun.

“I must shatter that sun, or I am doomed!” he desperately thought, his heart pounding in his chest.

The sphere hurtled toward the sun, but just as it neared, the sun unleashed its boundless power in a devastating collision.

The clash echoed across the heavens, reverberating even in the void beyond the Water Spirit Star. On the planet, vast fissures tore through the land, the sphere of energy utterly annihilated!

Fu Fengzi emitted a hollow laugh, spewing forth another mouthful of blood. His body, now a canvas of wounds, ripped and bled anew.

The agony was excruciating, a torment that would have broken a lesser being. He felt himself becoming the night, torn apart as the dawn emerged. Reality and illusion blurred, the line between dream and waking vanished.

His body was a ruin, his spirit shattered, torn by unseen forces. He could almost feel invisible hands rending him limb from limb.

In his fading vision, he saw the sun fully rise above the horizon, and within its incandescent heart, a figure began to coalesce. “Wang Lin!”

At that moment, Wang Lin *was* the sun, radiating golden light so intense it blinded all who dared gaze upon it. And beneath the sun, instead of the sea, was a towering, majestic peak.

The realization struck Fu Fengzi with the force of a thunderbolt. It was not the dawn, but Wang Lin! The sun-kissed sea was but the summit of a mountain!

Yet, the agony of being torn asunder was undeniable, a palpable force reminding him of the power that tears apart the night.

Fu Fengzi roared again, a desperate act of defiance, and reached for his storage bag. But as he opened it, his right arm exploded in a shower of blood and bone.

From the bag, a cascade of magical artifacts emerged, a last-ditch attempt to shield him from the unseen force. Yet, they proved as fragile as glass, shattering into fragments at the first touch.

Fu Fengzi’s eyes burned with a crimson light. In a final act of desperation, his once-corpulent form began to shrink, transforming him into a gaunt, skeletal figure. And from within this emaciated frame, a colossal obsidian tablet materialized, towering over the world.

The tablet was covered in arcane runes, and coiled around it was a monstrous black serpent, its head adorned with budding horns, close to becoming a true dragon.

With a guttural roar, Fu Fengzi unleashed the serpent, its fangs bared as it lunged toward Wang Lin. Simultaneously, the massive tablet tilted, threatening to crush the world below. It blocked the very sky, and the world turned to pitch black.

Wang Lin, seated atop the celestial peak, had not moved an inch. He simply regarded Fu Fengzi with an air of quiet indifference, raised his right hand, and whispered, “Residual Night.”

As the words left his lips, the heavens themselves trembled. Wang Lin became the sun, his mountain becoming the sea. A force that could rip apart the night exploded from him, unleashing an endless tide of golden light.

The “Sea Sun Rises From The Residual Night.” The darkness shattered, torn asunder, leaving behind only… fragments of night.

The great serpent writhed in agony, its body dissolving into fragments. The stone tablet was reduced to rubble, shattered into countless pieces.

Fu Fengzi coughed up a torrent of blood. His body, now a tapestry of countless wounds, was on the brink of collapse, but a surge of power abruptly reversed his fall, flinging him back to earth, where he crashed in a heap.

The darkness was gone, the illusions dispelled. The world returned to normal. The Three Dust Daoists stared in stunned silence, their hearts filled with dread.

“Even our master could not wield such power…”

“That… that was his new spell, forged in two months of secluded meditation? It is terrifying! If that spell were turned against me, my soul and body would be annihilated!”

“Fu Fengzi, a Cleanse-of-Nirvana cultivator, was defeated. If this Wang fellow had intended to kill him, Fu Fengzi would surely be dead.” The three shared terrified glances.

Big Head drew a sharp breath, staring at Wang Lin with a complex mixture of emotions. “The gap between us grows ever wider. This journey to the alliance has been a transformation for him.”

Lei Ji’s eyes burned with fanatical devotion. “The stronger my master becomes, the greater my chance of reclaiming the Devil Star!”

Only Tashi remained unchanged, his expression as cold and distant as ever. Silence reigned. No one dared to speak.

Wang Lin gazed at the sun, his eyes burning with a radiant light. He rose to his feet and strode towards Fu Fengzi. Seizing the defeated cultivator by the hair, he then vanished into the sky. Before departing, he nodded slightly to the Three Dust Daoists.

“Two months of waiting… I finally understood that which I sought. I briefly entered into a state almost identical to the ancient spirit lands… but that place can not compare with the Residual Night…” Wang Lin mused, as he entered his palace.

“What was that moment? In that state, I was granted a fleeting glimpse of the power to rip apart the heavens… This spell, I can now proudly say is the first to ever be created by Wang Lin!” Wang Lin tossed Fu Fengzi aside, and sat upon his cushion.

He replayed his actions in his mind, cementing his new understanding.

Fu Fengzi managed to sit upright. “Was… was that a spell of your own creation?” He asked croakily.