Lord Floating Wind was yet uncertain whether the devastating art he had just witnessed, the one that had almost ripped his very soul asunder, was truly a creation of Wang Lin’s own design. Yet, a deep-seated instinct told him that such power was unprecedented in all his long years.

The notion that it was a self-forged spell arose from his vast experience. He, a cultivator in the nascent stages of the Nether Nirvana, recalled that within the heart of the spell, there lay a certain rawness.

This rawness was not the clumsiness of an unskilled hand, but rather a quality inherent to the spell itself. It was akin to a gemstone freshly hewn from the heart of the mountain, shimmering with an inner fire, yet still bearing the rough edges of its origin. Thus, Floating Wind, after long deliberation, spoke his raspy words. Wang Lin merely nodded, his gaze tranquil.

That single nod was as a tempest unleashed upon Floating Wind’s soul. A deafening silence filled his mind as he stared, dumbfounded, at Wang Lin, unable to utter a single syllable.

To create a new spell, a unique神通 (divine art), was a feat beyond the reach of ordinary mortals. To Floating Wind’s knowledge, only the most venerable of ancients, those who had attained the shattered Nirvana, possessed the power to birth their own spells, arts uniquely woven from their essence. Such creations were known to wield unimaginable power. “Self-forged…” Floating Wind muttered, bitterness etched upon his face. He had never imagined that Wang Lin, standing before him, was capable of such a thing, and with such… potency.

The memory of being torn asunder sent a chill down his spine, his face paling. Even now, the pain throbbed in his wounds, particularly his ruined right arm.

Floating Wind knew, with a chilling certainty, that had Wang Lin truly wished his demise, that self-forged spell would have been his undoing.

As these thoughts swirled within Floating Wind’s mind, Wang Lin was equally consumed. The power of the Fragmented Night had shaken him just as profoundly, perhaps even more so.

“My cultivation is but at the peak of the Intermediate stage of the Seer Nirvana. The Late stage is still distant, and the Consummate stage, a far-off dream. And Nirvana… I am yet to be. Why, then, could I so easily grievously wound Floating Wind?” Wang Lin pondered, lost in contemplation.

He raised his right hand, eyes agleam with curiosity. He recalled the essence of the Fragmented Night, and a golden light instantly engulfed his palm, so brilliant as to rival the sun.

Floating Wind recoiled in terror, ignoring the pain as he stumbled back. He did not see, however, the furrowed brow and subtle gesture as Wang Lin dismissed the spell.

With a sigh, Floating Wind bowed his head in respect. “Lord Wang, I am indebted to you for your mercy! My arrogance has brought this upon me, my grasping at a foolish hope. The loss of my arm has opened my eyes. Lord Wang, I swear upon my very foundations, there will be no second transgression!”

His previous capitulation had been hollow, a mere mask for the rebellion he had planned within the Demon Spirit Land.

But the raw power of the Fragmented Night, the realization of Wang Lin’s self-forged spell, had crushed all such notions. His words were born of true surrender, a deep-seated desire to emerge from the Demon Spirit Land with his life intact.

Whether the spell was truly Wang Lin’s creation, Floating Wind dared not delve too deeply. His experience hinted at a truth, a possibility that the spell was in fact Wang Lin’s creation.

But truth or deception mattered not. Its potency was all that mattered, a force that had humbled him, extinguishing the fires of defiance. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, and he cast aside all other thoughts. Twice Wang Lin had spared him. Surely a third chance would not be granted.

Wang Lin gave Floating Wind a curt glance. Both were men of the world, understanding each other without the need for further warnings. A nod sealed the matter.

“Lord Wang,” Floating Wind began, his thoughts now turned towards the Demon Spirit Land, “from what I know of the old monsters of Tian Yun, the opening of the Demon Spirit Land is nigh. In months, perhaps half a year at most, it will be unlocked. Our time is short. I am injured and must retreat to my chambers to recover. I shall take my leave.” With newfound sincerity, Floating Wind bid Wang Lin farewell, retreating to his chambers to begin his recuperation.

Once Floating Wind had departed, Wang Lin frowned, staring at his right hand. After a moment of contemplation, he summoned the power of the Fragmented Night once more. The golden light returned, enveloping his palm.

As the light bloomed, the essence within Wang Lin’s body surged uncontrollably towards his hand.

His eyes flashed. With a flick of his wrist, the golden light vanished, the essence slowly retreating back into his core. But even in that brief moment, over a tenth of his power had been consumed.

“As before, as soon as the spell is invoked, the essence rushes forth… With my current essence, I cannot truly wield the Fragmented Night! Why, then, atop the peak, could I unleash its power without expending a single mote of my own?” Wang Lin pondered, brow furrowed. “Could it be…” he whispered, eyes widening with sudden understanding.

As daylight faded and darkness returned, Wang Lin remained seated, deep in thought. As the night waned and the first breath of dawn approached, his eyes flashed. He rose to his feet, taking a single step forward. He vanished, reappearing atop the mountain where he had spent months in contemplation.

The sea wind, cold and sharp, buffeted him, yet he paid it no heed. His eyes shone with a fierce light as he gazed at the rising sun, a deep breath filling his lungs. He raised his right hand, the Fragmented Night surging within him, flowing towards his palm.

And in that instant, golden light erupted from his hand, but this time, his own essence remained untouched. Instead, as his palm rose, he sensed the boundless power of the heavens pouring forth from the nascent sun, rushing into his hand, making it burn even brighter.

As the sun rose higher, so did the power that flooded Wang Lin’s hand, until it overflowed, engulfing his entire being.

He stood bathed in golden light, radiating power that rivaled the sun itself, a beacon in the world, outshining the true dawn!

Understanding washed over Wang Lin, and with a sigh, he allowed the golden light to recede, fading back into nothingness.

“So that is it! I am not yet strong enough to wield this spell without aid. Only at the sun’s first breath can I borrow the power of the heavens.” Wang Lin mused, shaking his head. “Though limited, should I be drawn into battle at dawn, coupled with my Third Eye and the Arrow-Piercing Chariot, I could contend with even a Shattered Nirvana cultivator! Dawn is when I, Wang Lin, am at my strongest!”

Returning to his palace, a cold glint entered Wang Lin’s eyes. “Floating Wind aside, I wonder who will be the first to face my power at dawn!”

He sat cross-legged, forming incantations with his hands. Restrictive wards appeared, surrounding the palace. He tapped his brow, unleashing the forbidden Heart Wards, black threads weaving intricate patterns in the air. With layers of protection in place, the palace became a fortress.

Yet Wang Lin felt a lingering unease. He retrieved a compass, the unique artifact of the Banished Inheritor.

He blew essence onto the compass, its needle spinning wildly. It rose into the air, expanding until it became a ten-丈 (zhàng) shield above him. As Wang Lin rose, it settled upon the ground, and he sat at its center.

“This should suffice!” Wang Lin clapped his storage bag, and the Silver-Clad Corpse emerged in a flash of light. Gazing at the corpse, Wang Lin exhaled and pointed towards the center of her brow!

The female corpse opened her eyes with a flash and gazed coldly at Wang Lin. At the center of her brow, a whirlpool spun. Wang Lin’s fingertip was halted an inch from touching the corpse.

Her eyes glinted, and she attempted to retreat. The spinning compass began to emit mournful wails, as arrays lit up the ground and connected to the arrays protecting the rest of the palace. No matter where she went, the corpse was faced with an array. Touching one would mean activating them all.

The gleam in the corpse’s eyes grew intelligent, and she stopped retreating. Her body became a blur of silver light and charged toward Wang Lin!

She had been seriously injured and her cultivation had decreased, but her fierce nature had not decreased! She was now before Wang Lin and grabbed at him.

Wang Lin remained calm. When her hand came close, his right eye flashed with azure light that exploded out and met the corpse’s hand.

With a scream, the female corpse retreated, but she was very nimble and dodged all the arrays. She stopped about ten feet away from Wang Lin and roared at him.

The female corpse was naturally beautiful, and with her sharp canines, she gave off a cat-like vibe. The chains around her collar bone and pelvis clanked against each other as she retreated, echoing in the palace.