That intricate unease stemmed not solely from his actions, but had grown within Wang Lin over his three centuries of cultivation. As his power ascended and his comprehension of the heavens deepened, a haunting retrospect arose upon the accumulated slaughter of his life.

Only now, through Yao Xixue, did this age-old reckoning find a vent.

It was akin to that drunken night with Situ Nan, when Wang Lin dared not look back upon a millennium and question the worth of his path. To cultivate the Dao… yet what price must be paid? His hands were stained crimson, awash in the blood of those he had slain over these long centuries.

So numerous were they that even he had lost count. Taking a life brought no joy; rather, it filled Wang Lin with a profound weariness.

Yet in this cruel world of cultivation, to not kill, to not resist, was to surrender one’s own life. In the chasm between slaying and being slain, there was no room for hesitation.

No room for struggle! Life or death, the choice presented itself but once.

“I could bear your actions against me alone, but you struck down my father as well! Wang Lin, what ancient feud exists between us? In this world, plots and schemes are commonplace. I, Yao Xixue, wronged you first, but was my transgression worthy of death?” She glared at him, her eyes burning with a hatred that threatened to consume the very heavens, her voice a lament of utter despair.

Wang Lin remained silent, gazing toward the horizon, a shadow of melancholy darkening his eyes.

“You sealed me away for centuries, and during that time, you employed vile means to disturb my spirit. All this I could overlook, for I erred first. But you should not, should not have killed my father!” Tears glistened amidst the unyielding hatred in her gaze.

Wang Lin sighed softly. Centuries of cultivation had hardened his heart, turning it to stone. Yet he remained a man, not a demon. He had his reasons, his own methods.

*Do not offend me, and I shall not offend you.* Yao Xixue’s schemes had crossed his line, and for that, she must die. Fearful of her father and the Blood Soul Pill, he must first imprison her. When her father appeared, he had to fight for survival – either the Blood Ancestor would fall, or he, Wang Lin, would perish. There was no choice! From Wang Lin’s perspective, he was without fault. But from Yao Xixue’s, she had already suffered centuries of imprisonment for her initial plot. As she said, they were even, though hate still lingered.

Yet the death of her father… could she simply reason and analyze right and wrong with the man who had taken his life? She could not. As a daughter, reason be damned; vengeance was her duty. From her perspective, she too, was without fault.

It was all Karma… the seeds of yesterday blossoming into the fruits of today, a cycle beyond the grasp of either one of them. Had she not plotted against him in the first place, had he not feared the Blood Ancestor, there would be no cause for these events.

Once planted, the seeds of Karma could not be extinguished, only allowed to grow. Centuries he had spent trapped within its thorny embrace. Like a web of lies, the price for one fabrication was always more.

In his youth, he had not understood Karma. Little did he know that he himself had become a part of it.

Later, the Blood Ancestor came to hunt him, and he believed it was the result of this Karma. Yet now, it was clear that the Blood Ancestor was not the fruit, but yet another seed! The true fruit lay not with the Blood Ancestor, nor with the words of Yao Xixue, but within his own Dao Heart. A spark of realization ignited in Wang Lin’s eyes.

“My comprehension of the Intent of Karma has stagnated; my progress is agonizingly slow. No amount of enlightenment seems able to truly reveal the nature of Karma… Long ago, I sensed that to achieve mastery, one must unravel all their own entanglements. It seems that I only understood a fraction of the truth then.” A profound understanding dawned in his eyes.

Yao Xixue watched Wang Lin, her glare venomous. The deeper his silence, the deeper her hatred grew. After a chilling laugh, she formed a hand seal and, without hesitation, struck her brow with fierce determination.

“Wang Lin, today our feud ends! I, Yao Xixue, shall sacrifice my very soul, give up this body, all to avenge my father’s death!”

The hatred and resentment in her countenance transformed into a boundless ferocity, turning her face into a grotesque mask. The moment her hands landed upon her brow, the light in her eyes vanished, replaced by an eerie, chilling flame.

“Demon Lord! I, Yao Xixue, willingly relinquish my last shred of sanity and offer you my body completely! But you must promise me… slay him!” Her piercing cry tore through the heavens.

In that instant, a monstrous demonic aura erupted from her, transforming her appearance. Her fingernails lengthened instantly, revealing razor-sharp edges.

Her hair grew wildly, reaching her feet in crimson tangles.

The hideous scars upon her face writhed and shifted as if alive, forming a complex, unholy rune.

An intensely frigid demonic energy surged from her, exploding into the sky and filling half the world in the blink of an eye.

The demonic aura brought with it a bone-chilling cold, and as it spread, the sea below began to crackle and groan. In that very moment, most of the ocean transformed into a frozen expanse! The water turned to ice with visible speed, connecting into vast sheets. Even the rolling waves were frozen solid, like icy sculptures. In the distance, the walls of surging water were also encased in ice, a terrifying spectacle to behold!

A chilling voice, like the bite of a winter wind, escaped Yao Xixue’s lips, sweeping across the land. “As you wish!”
With a sacrifice of flesh and soul, she had irrevocably become a vessel for one of the ancient Nine Spirits – the Wind Fiend. This was Yao Xixue’s desperate bargain, the price of her vengeance, the toll exacted to slay Wang Lin.

Now, within Yao Xixue’s mortal shell, it was no longer her spirit that reigned, but the Wind Fiend, an errant fragment of a fallen god. The ancient fiends were creatures of volatile nature, sundered into nine distinct entities, each possessing its own sentience. Some yearned for reunion, while others sought only solitary dominion.

For centuries, the Devourer, Bellows, had consumed seven of his brethren, his power regaining eight-tenths of its former glory. The remaining power, the final fifth, resided within this very Wind Fiend.

Unlike the other fractured spirits, the Wind Fiend vehemently resisted the call to merge. He had sought another path, a desperate shortcut. After countless failed unions with mortal beings, he had chosen Yao Xixue, seizing upon the festering hatred within her heart as a catalyst for their unholy bond.

The merging was a perilous madness, unlike a simple possession. The Wind Fiend had first poured his memories into Yao Xixue’s mind, granting her access to his ancient existence. Then, risking oblivion, he allowed his fiendish form to crumble, dissipating into an ethereal, unthinking miasma.

In essence, he had forsaken his identity as an ancient spirit, embraced a form of death, all to deny Bellows even a sliver of opportunity for absorption.

Even Bellows had not foreseen this gambit. By the time he realized the Wind Fiend’s intent, it was too late, the sacrifice complete.

Yao Xixue, though now heir to the Fiend’s memories, could not unlock them all, only a fraction. She could absorb the released fiendish energy. Centuries had passed, and the reservoir within her had reached a critical point.

If she forever refused to awaken the complete memory, the Wind Fiend would slumber indefinitely. This was the Fiend’s gamble, wagering that Yao Xixue, driven by vengeance and the lure of greater power, would sacrifice everything.

Even if he lost, it mattered little. As Yao Xixue continued to absorb the fiendish energy, a saturation point would inevitably be reached, shattering the barriers to the complete memory.

In truth, this existence was not truly the Wind Fiend’s survival. The genuine Fiend was broken, gone. What lingered was merely his memory, and Yao Xixue, only its vessel.

The instant the full memory awakened, all of Yao Xixue’s own recollections would be devoured, leaving no trace. The soul within that body would then bear only the history of the Wind Fiend. She would *become* the new Wind Fiend! Even Bellows could only despair. The Fiend he coveted had shattered himself, traded his divine heritage to become a mere demon, no longer a primordial god!

Now, fueled by Yao Xixue’s burning desire for vengeance, the complete memory surged awake. Yao Xixue’s own recollections crumbled, leaving only her hatred for Wang Lin, a resentment so profound that even the Wind Fiend could not extinguish it.

A spectral flicker manifested, and the Wind Fiend’s eyes, cold and cunning, fixed upon Wang Lin.

“Your squabble with Yao Xixue is of no concern to me, I care not for the affairs of mortals. She unlocked my memory, and her being has been consumed by my own. In truth, I have done you a favor!” The Wind Fiend licked his lips, retreating slowly. With each step backward, the frozen sea melted, wisps of icy vapor rising to enfold the Fiend within their embrace.

Caution reigned in his ancient heart. This cultivator, he sensed, was a perilous foe. Particularly unsettling was the aura radiating from his very flesh, a power that made the Fiend recoil inwardly.

The promises made to Yao Xixue were mere lies, tricks to induce her final surrender. Even his final words of compliance were simply a reassurance to the dying Xixue to cease her struggles.

Now that the bargain was fulfilled, the Wind Fiend had no intention of risking himself for a being drained of all value. Had Yao Xixue’s target been a weakling, he might have indulged her whim. But the cultivator before him inspired only dread.

Moreover, his own power was far diminished from its ancient heights. He could not afford recklessness.

“This place is ensnared by the Immortal Emperor’s binding wards, should they be fully unleashed, they will cause us both great distress. We have no true quarrel, therefore, I bid you farewell,” the Wind Fiend said, continuing his withdrawal.

Wang Lin slowly lifted his gaze, the sunlight illuminating the retreating figure.

Outwardly, a faint echo of Yao Xixue remained, yet the essence of the being was utterly transformed. Though the soul within was still, in its origin, Yao Xixue.

A killing intent blazed in Wang Lin’s eyes. He took a single step forward.

The Wind Fiend, ever watchful, witnessed this movement and his eyes constricted. Without hesitation, he fled, vanishing with impossible speed! He was the Wind Fiend, and his celerity was unmatched. Though now a mere demon, his speed surpassed all comprehension. In an instant, he was gone.

Wang Lin remained impassive. The Ancient God’s cauldron manifested with sudden brilliance. Wang Lin pointed a finger, and in the far reaches, a radiant spark ignited. It was the Wind Fiend, his form flickering in panic. In the blink of an eye, he was dragged back to Wang Lin.

With seamless grace, Wang Lin’s hand moved, his forefinger touching the Wind Fiend’s brow.

A resounding boom echoed, and the Wind Fiend reeled backward, spewing forth a mouthful of blood. His eyes burned with a primal loathing.

“My Way is the Way of Karma. The full bloom of karmic understanding requires not only the unraveling of all personal confusion but also the utter immersion within…” Wang Lin spoke as if to himself, advancing toward the Fiend.

The Wind Fiend howled. Retreating, he weaved a furious incantation. Instantly, a dense, fetid miasma swirled around them. The melted sea below froze once more, and with a flick of the Fiend’s wrist, countless shards of ice rose from the shattered surface, becoming whistling daggers aimed at Wang Lin.

“Insignificant mortal, I had no desire to slay you, but you presume beyond your station!” The Wind Fiend’s voice thundered, and the icy projectiles hurtled towards Wang Lin, closing in with terrifying speed.
A vista stretched boundless, the very fabric of existence consumed by a relentless tide of ice, each shard a jagged claw hurtling towards Wang Lin, promising to encase him in a prison of frozen oblivion.

As the frigid onslaught neared, Wang Lin raised a hand, a gentle wave unleashing a cataclysm. Before him erupted a sea of fire, a nascent ember blossoming into an inferno that surged outwards, centered on Wang Lin, devouring the very sky.

Crimson consumed all, a roaring, crackling ocean of flame.

The approaching glaciers, met by the fiery embrace, dissolved into torrents of steaming water, which instantly transmuted into billowing clouds of vapor. Soon, the world was painted in shades of crimson and ghostly white.

Feng Yao’s eyes narrowed, a gasp escaping her lips. She had overestimated Wang Lin, yet even her amplified expectations fell short of the monstrous reality before her. He was not merely fearsome, but a being of terrifying power. Even in her prime, victory would have been far from assured, and now, reborn with only the strength of a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator, she stood on perilous ground.

“Yao Xixue’s plight,” Wang Lin murmured, “is the final test, the keystone of my path to mastering the Dao of Karma. For centuries, I have unwittingly become ensnared, a piece within this tangled web. Only by fully immersing myself within it can I grasp the true meaning, as one must descend into the very depths of hell to know its torments.”

Understanding bloomed in Wang Lin’s eyes, and he took a step forward. A corona of fire enveloped him, growing more intense with each stride, a raging tempest of heat directed towards Feng Yao.

Terror gripped Feng Yao’s heart. With gritted teeth, she raised a hand towards the heavens, chanting, “The Rule of Wind!”

Instantly, a cyclone of raw power descended, swirling around Feng Yao, then exploded into countless shards of wind. At her command, these fragments became a tempest of blades, aimed with lethal precision at Wang Lin.

The very sky seemed to weep, rent with countless hairline fractures, threatening to shatter beneath the strain of the gale. Each splintered gust was a razor, its touch dimming the raging inferno, threatening to extinguish its fiery heart.

Yet, the gale buffeted Wang Lin without budging him an inch. He strode forward, resolute, unflinching.

“Now, I am submerged within Karma, to break free of all shackles, the Dao of Karma can then be achieved, and my resolve can only break through!” Wang Lin clenched his right fist, and as the word “break” left his lips, he unleashed a devastating punch.

The sound was deafening. As Wang Lin’s fist flew, the spectral form of an ancient god materialized behind him. Standing as high as the heavens and with his feet on the sea floor, the ancient god mimicked Wang Lin’s movement, his own colossal fist mirroring Wang Lin’s strike!

“An Ancient God?!” Feng Yao gasped, her blood turning to ice. She had sensed a familiar dread emanating from Wang Lin, a forgotten fear from eons past. The vision of this spectral form ripped away the veil of amnesia, awakening ancient memories.

“You are an Ancient God!” Panic seized her. Without another word, she turned and fled, transforming into a wisp of wind, desperately seeking escape.

“All I did before, in this Dao of Karma, was not wrong! The Dao of Karma has not yet been accomplished, because my Dao heart, with all these thousands of years of slaughter, is flawed! It has a Devil!”

Wang Lin’s fist slammed into the oncoming maelstrom, the sound echoing across the heavens and the earth. The gale was torn asunder, its power thrown back in disarray.

Wang Lin’s gaze lingered on the vanishing figure of Feng Yao. Calmly, he reached into his storage pouch, retrieving a withered talisman, which he affixed to his chest.

The moment the talisman made contact, a vortex of black wind erupted from his being, reaching towards the sky, a swirling pillar that seemed to draw in the very essence of the world. Even the sea beneath Wang Lin’s feet churned in response, forming a colossal maelstrom.

From within the heart of the raging wind, a screech, as piercing and primal as the birth of the universe, tore through the air.

Emerging from the darkness was a massive bird of ebony plumage.

With a snap, the creature spread its wings. Initially just a few dozen feet long, it grew with impossible speed, soon eclipsing tens of thousands of feet. The size of its body blocked out the sky! As its earth-rending screech echoed, Wang Lin took a single step forward, and immediately felt the force of wind pressing against him, like a wall of wind rushing towards him.

In Wang Lin’s Ancient God body, the obstacles, like rushing walls, crumbled and disintegrated, indescribable in its speed, just a step, as if Wang Lin had separated the earth and sky with a way that was not shrinking the earth to an inch, but advancing directly.

Feng Yao fled with every ounce of her power, desperately channeling her spirit energy to conjure protective barriers, lest her pursuer draw near once more with his unsettling abilities. A shimmering aura of raw power enveloped her, and she was drawing upon all she had to enhance her speed.

A colossal phantom of her true form shimmered into existence around her, its presence a testament to her desperation.

Convinced that she had finally distanced herself from her pursuer, Feng Yao was suddenly assailed by a thunderous roar that closed upon her from behind.

Turning, Feng Yao was met by a horrifying sight. Wang Lin was upon her with impossible speed, a blur of motion that defied comprehension. As he drew closer, the vortex that had formed beneath his feet followed, creating a cataclysm of raging water that threatened to swallow the very sky.

“The fruit of this ordeal lies within my Dao heart. The path to its resolution is to sever the ties of Karma with you, that I may achieve enlightenment!”
“By the winds of oblivion, I care not for your tangled web of fate!” the Wind Wraith shrieked, her voice a razor’s edge against the gathering storm. “Hound me no more, for I shall unleash the very tempest within me and cast you into the void!”

No longer did she flee, the vaunted speed she once possessed now a cruel jest against the relentless hunter at her heels. The stolen memories of Yao Xixue, a bitter draught poisoned with unyielding hatred, surged within her, fueled by the endless pursuit. This venomous rage, now intertwined with the Wraith’s very essence, twisted her features. The scars that marred her beauty writhed, coalescing into vile runes that pulsed with a sickly green light.

“Ancient artifact of the dark arts, the Banner of Shackled Gods and Imprisoned Demons!” the Wraith bellowed, casting her arms skyward. Unholy power erupted from her, a torrent of malevolent energy that clawed at the heavens. Upon her outstretched hands, it coalesced, a tangible manifestation of her despair and fury.

As the boundless aura of corruption spread, a chilling darkness descended upon the land. The very air seemed to crystallize, and mournful winds howled like tormented souls. Above the Wraith, within the ever-thickening miasma of dark energy, emerald lightning flickered. Then, from the heart of the storm, three pennants of ghastly green materialized.

The instant these banners took form, the heavens themselves recoiled. Beneath them, the ocean roiled, ripped apart by an unseen force. With a thunderous roar, the waters surged outwards, leaving gaping chasms in their wake.

Upon each pennant, phantasmal figures writhed in agony: the spectral visage of an ancient deity and two horned demons of a forgotten age. But the true horror lay not in their forms, but in the effect of their arrival. Not only did the sea convulse, but the very fabric of this realm seemed to fray. As the ocean thrashed, long-dormant enchantments stirred, their power unleashed in a blinding cascade of arcane energy! These unleashed wards, ancient and powerful, caused the ocean floor to buckle and heave, creating an intricate labyrinth of bottomless trenches.

From the heavens, one would witness a horrifying sight. The vast ocean, as it retreated and contorted, began to take on a form… a colossal, humanoid shape carved from the seabed itself, a terrifying testament to the Wraith’s desperate gambit.