Tasha, a towering figure of stone and steel, stood before the woman, his eyes reflecting only a chilling void. Once a warrior, now a Celestial Sentinel, he retained a semblance of sentience, yet all emotion had been purged, replaced by an immutable indifference.

The woman raised a hand, her touch feather-light as it settled upon Tasha’s brow. In that instant, a surge of raw, unbridled power coursed into him, shattering the Celestial Sentinel’s mark that had bound him. It was a tempest within, tearing apart the carefully constructed chains of servitude.

As Tasha writhed, a torrent of golden ichor seeped from his pores. Each glistening drop contained the essence of the enchanted artifacts and precious components used in his creation, distilled into a pure, potent form.

Within moments, every trace of his Celestial servitude vanished. Wang Lin, observing the ritual from afar, felt a prickle of unease. Such a forceful breaking of the Sentinel’s bindings was audacious. He was relieved that his control had only been a manipulation. Had Tasha been destroyed, Wang Lin would have been unscathed.

Without the celestial brand, the flicker of life within Tasha dimmed, fading like a dying ember. He had been on the brink of oblivion when Wang Lin had forged him into a Sentinel. Now, freed from that purpose, death encroached. Yet the woman would not allow him to succumb. Gently, she traced a finger upon his brow, etching a delicate sigil. Line upon line, a complex rune bloomed beneath her touch, sinking into his very being.

“By the name of my race’s sacred ancestors,” she chanted, her voice laced with weariness, “I awaken your ancestral spirit and grant you the holy mark of the Fu Clan.” As the final stroke fell, the rune upon Tasha’s brow pulsed with an ethereal light. His trembling ceased, and he stood still, his gaze turning to the woman, filled with nascent understanding.

As the woman inscribed the rune, Tasha’s memories flooded her awareness. She saw his people dwelling within the belly of the Netherbeasts, saw the sacrifices offered to the celestials, and saw the brands of enslavement seared upon their flesh. She witnessed Wang Lin’s arrival, his freeing them from the Netherbeasts, and his providing a new home. She saw it all.

Witnessing generations of enslavement, tears of black blood welled in the woman’s empty sockets.

“Qing Lin… you lied to me!” she cried, her voice a piercing shriek of agony and rage. The very air crackled with her despair. The vortex of the Buried Immortal Pool beneath her roiled, a maelstrom of tormented souls howling in unison.

The vortex spun faster, spewing out miasma, as if about to tear itself apart. The woman’s face twisted into a grotesque mask of fury, reflecting the immense hatred that had festered within her for countless millennia. It was a cataclysm of repressed emotions, unleashed at last.

As her cry echoed, the vortex seemed on the verge of being ripped from the earth, when suddenly, the crimson sinews that held her in place surged with a brilliant red light. The light coalesced around her, forming rings that sought to bind her.

But the immeasurable hatred, the aeons of imprisonment, and the searing betrayal by Qing Lin were too much. With a surge of will, the woman shattered the red light, and reached toward the vortex with grasping hand.

The earth trembled. The vortex quaked. The very foundations of the Celestial Emperor’s palace threatened to collapse.

Before her, the Buried Immortal Pool began to disintegrate, its souls torn apart. The whole vortex, reduced to its core, surged toward her right hand.

It was as if the woman intended to rip the entire Buried Immortal Pool from the earth.

The cataclysmic transformation drew attention to the woman. Tian Yunzi watched with a troubled expression. Xu Kongzi shook his head sadly, having gleaned some knowledge from ancient texts.

“You promised me you would not harm my people,” she shrieked. “You swore you would carve out a new starfield for them. You said our people would coexist with the Celestials! Why did you betray me?”

The woman’s wail echoed with infinite sorrow. As she grasped the diminishing vortex, its shattered remains revealed the black chasm from which it had sprung. Countless spirits emerged, most slain by Qing Lin, forming a macabre spectacle.

Beneath her, the crimson sinews pulsed with red light, weaving new rings about her, only to be shattered. Finally, symbols shimmered into existence, emitting crystal light that peeled away from the sinews and coalesced. Before her, the light took the form of a semi-transparent figure: a middle-aged man in golden robes, his long hair held back with a yellow ribbon. His features were handsome, radiating a divine aura.

His eyes burned with cold indifference.

With his arrival, an aura of absolute dominion filled the air. Tian Yunzi, powerful as he was, felt countless phantasmal apparitions bursting from his own being, brought forth by the chilling power.

“He’s stronger than he was then!” Tian Yunzi breathed, his eyes filled with dread. Only one being had ever stirred such fear within him: Qing Lin himself.

Wang Lin gasped, his eyes widening. He recognized the figure from the statue in Hua Fei’s palace: Qing Lin.

“Qing Lin!”

“It is not the true Qing Lin. It is merely a fragment of his spirit, a construct left to guard the Buried Immortal Pool and contain the Fu Clan’s Holy Ancestor. It has no intellect, no memories, no knowledge of the true Qing Lin. Its only purpose is to keep the Fu Clan’s Qiu Yao trapped!” Xu Kongzi said.

At that moment, far beyond Tian Yun Star, in a burning starfield beyond the reach of the Alliance Star System, the awakening of Wang Lin’s Vermillion Bird sent shockwaves through the Vermillion Bird Sacred Sect.

It was because of the awakening of the Vermillion Bird!