Before Wang Lin, looming from the desolate horizon, grew a shadow vast and terrible. His eyes widened, pupils shrinking at the dreadful familiarity.

It was a tower of blackest obsidian, rising from the barren wastes of the Obsidian Sands. A palpable miasma of demonic energy emanated from its depths, promising madness to any who dared approach.

Wang Lin had seen such a tower once before, within the Demon Spirit Land, in the County of the Celestial Demon. A single chilling hum from within had nearly shattered his mortal coil.

Even sheltered within his Immortal Abode, he could not escape the dark enchantments held within its walls, for only the searing pain of a nascent Ascendant Bloom had saved him from utter oblivion, preventing him from succumbing to the allure of the Dispersed Demon Tower!

“A Dispersed Demon!” he hissed. “Bei Luo once spoke of nine such beings who served the Ancient Demon, and I encountered but one, the solitary wanderer of the outer Demon Spirit Land. Yet here, within the immortal Qing Lin’s lost realm, this demonic edifice dares to stand!” A flicker of light ignited in Wang Lin’s eyes, his feet grinding to a halt.

His face flushed a fevered crimson, the telltale mark of a Blood Evasion. As he paused, the swirling tendrils of demonic energy that had pursued him finally dissipated, leaving him exposed to the tower’s unholy presence. “An Immortal Emperor’s realm, tainted by a Dispersed Demon… and the Ancient Demon Bei Luo seeks passage hither… I recall now the words of Consort Hua, that Qing Lin, after the celestial collapse, encountered two entities from beyond the veil, and was grievously wounded, seeking refuge here!

Those two intruders must be the Ancient Demon, and the Ancient Spirit, Bei Luo!” The sight of the obsidian tower sparked a tempest within Wang Lin’s mind, granting him clarity.

Dizzying thoughts swirled within him, and a glint of understanding dawned in his eyes. He had grasped a thread of a vast and terrible tapestry.

“Within the Demon Spirit Land, the Ancient Spirit Bei Luo was fragmented into nine pieces, sealed within nine locations. For countless ages, what should have been a sanctified land has been corrupted, choked by demonic energies… Who dared to imprison Bei Luo, and why is there only a Dispersed Demon within the Demon Spirit Land, and no Ancient Demon?

Where does the Ancient Demon dwell! If this infernal logic holds true, then the Ancient Demon must reside within this Fifth Abode, the sanctuary where the Immortal Emperor Qing Lin sought to mend his wounds!” Enlightenment washed over Wang Lin. He had harbored such suspicions for some time, but now the sight of the demon tower ignited a fire of terrifying realization.

“A Dispersed Demon… I wonder, with my present strength, could I hope to stand against such a being?” Wang Lin suppressed the pain throbbing within his veins, the lingering cost of the Blood Evasion.

A feral rage contorted his features. Half a year of constraint, coupled with the encroaching demonic energies, had stoked a burning desire for blood. His face hardened into a mask of savage intent. He took a single step forward, embarking on his fateful course!

Though the obsidian tower seemed deceptively close, there was still some distance across the desolate expanse of the Obsidian Sands. But to Wang Lin, it was of little consequence. Each stride ate away at the space between them.

Yet as he pressed onward, the ground before the tower began to tremble, and the obsidian sands rose from the earth. In the blink of an eye, dozens of figures materialized before Wang Lin, each fashioned of sand and earth!

These beings were clad in the garb of a bygone era, reminiscent of forgotten ages. As they arose, a chorus of demonic howls filled the air, and the individual tendrils of demonic energy spiraled upwards to weave a single, grotesque form.

It was an elder, his eyes burning with a malevolent light. He fixed his gaze upon Wang Lin and extended a spectral hand, pointing a skeletal finger! The sand golems erupted into furious cries and charged forth as one.

Arcane spells and dark enchantments filled the heavens, a kaleidoscope of baleful energy hurtling towards Wang Lin.

The pent-up fury within Wang Lin finally exploded. Without a second thought, he lunged towards the nearest sand golem, his finger like a lightning bolt striking the creature’s brow.

With a thunderous roar, the sand golem shattered, collapsing into a heap of scattered sand.

“Mere puppets will not stand in my path!” Wang Lin cried, shifting like a wraith. In the next heartbeat, he was upon another golem, his palm surging with power. A sweeping strike reduced the golem to dust.

But the remaining golems had arrived, unleashing their attacks, weaving into the shapes of weapons and creatures of pure light. Wang Lin’s right eye flashed with emerald fire, and the Emerald Shield materialized, a bulwark of swirling light. It met the onslaught, deflecting and shattering each attack with a symphony of earth-shattering collisions.

The dark enchantments were held at bay, unable to breach the perimeter around Wang Lin. His figure, swift as a bolt of lightning, danced through the fray, each touch of his finger causing another puppet to implode.

The barrage of explosions echoed across the desolate landscape as Wang Lin tore through the ranks, each impact representing another golem destroyed!

The rage on Wang Lin’s face deepened, and he burst past the last of the sand creatures. With a soaring leap, he planted his hand upon the puppet’s head and ripped, causing a monstrous boom. Though he had launched skyward, he did not rise beyond twenty zhang – his limit here. “Invoke the Winds!” The words erupted from him, and he formed a seal in the air, pointing towards the phantom elder forged of golem magic above!

Shock distorted the elder’s features, and he had not even been able to process Wang Lin’s attack. All he saw was a madman before him, more devil than man!

The elder did not realize that the half-year lost in this dark expanse had warped Wang Lin, allowing his latent demonic nature to bloom once more.

The words “Invoke the Winds” caused a black whirlwind to erupt across the Obsidian Sands, forming into four majestic Black Dragons, rising high to strike the elder! But a dark change warped the summoned spirits.

From the top of each of the Black Dragon’s heads rose long, sharp horns. The teeth jutted from their maws like daggers, the ghastly teeth making the skin crawl! These were not the dragons of Immortals. These were the children of the dark abyss!
The scaled armor, though only partially manifested, radiated an aura of malevolent power, its jagged edges and countless barbs enhancing the draconic fury of the four demonic beasts.

The sight stunned not only the elder, but Wang Lin himself. He momentarily paused, a single, chilling thought echoing in his mind: “This is no celestial art, but a pure, unadulterated demonic assault!”

With a flick of Wang Lin’s wrist, the four demon-dragons roared, surging towards the elder formed of concentrated dark energies. His face paling, the elder frantically wove hand seals, attempting to unleash a protective spell.

But at that precise moment, the four dragons unleashed a united, earth-shattering roar, a wave of primal, demonic sound that shattered the oppressive silence of the black sands.

The roar carried with it an essence of unimaginable darkness, a wave of pure malice that vibrated through the elder’s very being. His incantation faltered, the spell he was forming dissolving in the face of the sonic onslaught. He stumbled backward, desperately seeking refuge within the ominous black tower in the distance.

The four demon-dragons gave relentless chase, their cavernous maws lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth, and viscous, venomous spittle rained from the sky, a terrifying spectacle of savage hunger.

A cold, murderous light burned in Wang Lin’s eyes. Keeping pace behind the lead dragon, he soared toward the black tower, maintaining an altitude of no more than twenty fathoms, a limit observed by his demonic thralls as well.

The elder’s eyes reflected pure terror as he frantically fled toward the tower. His cultivation, barely reaching the early stages of the Soul Transformation realm, was no match for the berserk, wind-summoning black dragons. As their roars grew deafeningly close, the elder howled in desperation, “Lord Servitor of Darkness, save me!” His plea was cut short as darkness consumed his vision, and agonizing pain signaled the end of his mortal existence.

The four demon-dragons fell upon the fallen elder in a frenzied feast, nearly tearing each other apart in their ravenous hunger. One finally swallowed him whole. From the depths of the black tower, dozens of figures emerged, clad in concealing black robes that shrouded even their faces. They floated silently in the air, their eyes fixed on the four demonic beasts, radiating an icy animosity.

“Thirty-two souls, including the one just devoured,” Wang Lin murmured, his memory flawless, born of months spent cataloging the spiritual presences within this desolate land. “There are only thirty-one left!”

Each of the black-robed figures emanating from the tower possessed considerable power. As they arrayed themselves before him, Wang Lin’s face hardened. He knew the path to escape lay through this place, and these guardians would never allow him to leave peacefully. With a surge of power, he advanced, the four demon-dragons circling him like armored guardians, their malevolent energy focused on the figures before him.

“The Demon Lord, Tu Nian!” A raspy, ancient voice echoed from within the black-clad ranks. In a single, synchronized motion, the figures performed a complex hand seal, then pressed a finger to their foreheads.

Instantly, tendrils of pure demonic energy erupted from each figure, coalescing rapidly above them to form a monstrous, ephemeral shade.

Before the spectral figure could fully materialize, Wang Lin acted without hesitation. With a gesture, the four demon-dragons roared forward, attacking the nascent demonic entity. A grim expression settled on his face, and he took a single, decisive step forward, moving with the speed and precision of a drawn blade, targeting the black-robed figures directly.

As he moved, Wang Lin clenched his right hand, and the God-Slaying Spear materialized instantly, a conduit of his killing intent. He hurled it forward with deadly force.

The God-Slaying Spear became a bolt of black lightning, overtaking the demon-dragons to strike the ephemeral figure with concussive force, acting as a fifth demonic dragon. The resulting explosion shook the earth, threatening to shatter the oppressive darkness of the sky itself.

The demon-dragons dissipated in the wake of the blast, and the God-Slaying Spear disintegrated into nothingness. The summoned demonic shade, wounded and enraged, unleashed a final, ear-splitting shriek, the force of which sent Wang Lin staggering back.

The demonic shade writhed in agony, then shattered into fragments, its destruction mirrored by the black-robed figures who had summoned it. One by one, they succumbed to the backlash, their bodies trembling before collapsing into dust.

But in that moment of vulnerability, Wang Lin unleashed a burst of speed, reaching the remaining black-robed figures in an instant. With a sweeping motion of his right arm, he severed their heads, each one detaching with a sickening *thwack*. Dark energy spiraled from the severed heads.

“Your heads will serve my purpose,” Wang Lin declared, his gaze fixed on the black tower, no more than ten fathoms distant. His eyes focused on the apex of the structure, where a solitary figure stood, unseen until now. “Five Elements Water Dissolution, Demonic First Servant, Ming Hai. Kill me, and you may find the Immortal Emperor Qing Lin’s Landscape Painting: Desert Smoke!”