Beside the narrow path, a riot of blossoms bloomed, a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues that spoke of unearthly beauty. Yet, woven within their delicate petals and verdant stems, lay a labyrinth of enchantments. A careless touch could unleash a torrent of arcane energies – a sudden assault, an impenetrable snare, or a disorienting teleportation to a distant, unknown locale.

Woe to the traveler who lacked the knowledge to tread carefully, for within this first tier of the Immortal Emperor’s demesne, every step could prove perilous. Even the shimmering jade stones that paved the path were laced with subtle traps, their activation triggered by an errant footfall or an incorrect sequence of steps.

But these dangers, though formidable to most, held little terror for Wang Lin. His map, etched upon a jade tablet, offered no means to dismantle the enchantments, but it meticulously cataloged their intricate properties.

For another, such knowledge might be useless. But Wang Lin was a master of enchantments, a weaver of arcane patterns. Knowing the subtle details of these traps, he could unravel their deceptive guises with a practiced eye, saving himself countless hours of painstaking work.

Yet, distrusting the map’s completeness, he advanced with swiftness tempered by caution, constantly verifying its accuracy against the reality that unfolded before him.

Reaching into his storage pouch, he withdrew the iron sword, seized from the clutches of the humanoid being. His divine sense washed over the weapon, probing its depths. Though outwardly unremarkable, the blade presented a formidable barrier to his spiritual perception.

As if an unseen force dwelled within, guarding its secrets, resisting all attempts at intrusion. Particularly around the patches of rusted decay that marred its surface, the resistance intensified. Drawing back his senses, Wang Lin pondered, a frown etched upon his face.

“What manner of blade is this?” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the reddish-brown stains. He recalled the avarice that had consumed the emissary Tuosen when he had grasped an identical sword. But Tuosen’s desire had not been for the blade itself, but for the rust that clung to it.

His focus sharpened, he reached out with his left hand, lightly brushing a fingertip across one of the rusted patches. Upon inspection, his fingertip was stained with a residue of dark crimson dust.

He brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply, and detected a faint, metallic tang, the scent of blood and ages long past.

“Mere iron rust, it would seem,” Wang Lin muttered, his brow furrowed with disappointment as he lowered his hand. But the instant his hand descended, the very air where his finger had passed crackled with an eerie energy, a faint tear appearing in the fabric of reality.

And even more alarming, the blossoms beside him, previously undisturbed, erupted in a sudden wave of crimson light, withering at an alarming rate. The very enchantments that protected them collapsed into nothingness.

Wang Lin’s eyes blazed with comprehension. He stared at the desolate patch of earth, then back at the crimson dust clinging to his fingertips. Stepping back, he extended his tainted finger toward another cluster of flowers. Instantly, they succumbed to the same rapid decay, becoming withered and lifeless.

The rusted residue on his finger vanished.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Wang Lin fixed his gaze upon the rust-covered blade, a flicker of realization in his eyes. After a moment of stunned silence, he gritted his teeth and willed his third eye to open upon his brow.

As the eye snapped open, a crimson beam of pure energy shot forth, bathing the iron sword in its unholy light. The power of his very source mingled with the light, and Wang Lin focused his gaze upon the rusted patches.

In that instant, he saw the iron sword become transparent before him, but the rust remained unchanged, unaffected by his power.

An invisible energy flowed within the blade, swirling around its entirety. But when it came into contact with the power of Wang Lin’s third eye, the unseen energy recoiled, as if seeking to devour the source of Wang Lin’s power.

Wang Lin swiftly severed the connection, withdrawing his energy and closing his third eye. The unseen energy paused, then slowly retreated, resuming its slow dance within the blade.

His mind reeling with unanswered questions, Wang Lin despaired as he considered putting the blade away. But then, a thought struck him. Gazing at the iron sword, he mentally measured its dimensions, a curious expression forming on his face.

He reached into his storage pouch, and five beams of crystalline light shot forth, resolving into five sheaths. He had acquired these sheaths on the Scarlet Bird Star, long ago. He did not understand their true potential, but he knew that a sword placed within would have its power amplified.

Now, he called them forth. With a wave of his hand, the iron sword slid into one of the sheaths, fitting perfectly.

Yet, no visible change occurred. Wang Lin withdrew the sword, and proceeded to test each of the four remaining sheaths. But, the moment the iron sword slid into the third sheath, the runes carved upon its surface blazed with an intense light!

A terrifying aura erupted from the sheath and sword, Wang Lin’s eyes widened with excitement as he grasped the sheath. Taking a deep breath, he slowly drew forth the iron sword.

As the blade emerged from its sheath, the dreadful aura intensified. The feeling of an unimaginable power surged forth, as if a force was about to be released into the world.

A sensation that Wang Lin had experienced once before, emanating from a treasured weapon possessed by one now dead, Xuanchen’s arrow.

“Dimensional Nirvana?” Wang Lin murmured, a strange light in his eyes. He did not fully draw the iron sword. Instead, he returned it to the sheath. With a surge of excitement, he stowed the blade, and raced forth.

His body flowed forward like a ray of light, rushing straight ahead. In the blink of an eye, he arrived at a small building, only two stories tall. It seemed unremarkable, but the map recorded that this was the first of eight locations that formed the first-tier enchantment array. Only by opening all the locations could one hope to enter the black mists.

Examining the building, Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. The structure’s enchantment, it seemed, had already been breached.
“The seal upon this place has been broken recently,” Wang Lin murmured, a shadow of caution crossing his face. It was evident that he was not the only one who knew the secrets to circumvent the ancient protections of this domain.

“When the Immortal Burial Pool shattered, we were all scattered like seeds upon the wind. Surely some have managed to breach the barriers before me. But who among us treads these halls, I cannot yet discern.” Wang Lin cast his gaze about the first layer of the Immortal Emperor’s dwelling. It was not vast, and a sweeping of the divine sense could, in theory, unveil its secrets. Yet, only a fool would dare unleash such power amidst these swirling veils of arcane energy. Even Tian Yunzi himself would likely hesitate, choosing such a course only as a last resort.

After a moment of contemplation, Wang Lin moved with a swiftness that belied his carefulness. He skirted around the ornate pavilion, stepping onto a verdant expanse of grass. His eyes glimmered with calculating light, and without pausing, he pressed onward.

The grassy field was laced with enchantments, their intricacies detailed within the jade scroll map he possessed. With practiced steps, Wang Lin navigated the treacherous terrain, weaving between the dormant sigils without disturbing their slumber. He moved with remarkable speed, leaving the grassy field behind in mere moments.

Elsewhere within the first layer, in the northeastern corner near a weathered kiosk, stood a figure cloaked in black. Upon his brow, a mark of six withered petals lay hidden. His eyes, like chips of obsidian, were fixed upon the kiosk. On the opposite side, a woman of rustic beauty, resembling a village maiden, stood in silent opposition. Her expression was as dark and foreboding as the storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

“Honored Daoist,” the woman’s voice, though laced with a hint of rasp, held a captivating resonance, “This is but a simple ward. Why must you contest me for it?”

The chaos of the Immortal Burial Pool had flung her into a nexus of magical energy. Fortunate enough to encounter a relatively weak barrier, she had broken through it after much effort. Emerging into this place, her gaze was immediately drawn to the distant, swirling darkness. After much deliberation, she cautiously approached.

She held no great concern for the pink-clad girl she had brought with her. The girl possessed an artifact from her elder sister, potent enough to offer protection.

Yet, the Immortal Emperor’s abode was a labyrinth of enchantments. The woman had endured many perilous trials on her journey, finally arriving here at great cost. The moment her eyes fell upon the kiosk, she sensed its unique nature.

Just as she was about to delve deeper into its secrets, the black-clad man had appeared.

“If it is truly a simple ward,” the man said, a flicker of mockery in his eyes, “then perhaps you should concede it to me.” He took a step forward, preparing to enter the kiosk.

The woman’s eyes flashed with murderous intent. She moved like a phantom, lunging towards her adversary.

The black-clad man chuckled, forming a hand seal. In an instant, a torrent of black mist erupted, coalescing into a serpentine dragon that lunged to engulf the approaching woman.

With a swift, deliberate gesture, the woman plucked three strands of hair from her head, casting them forward while chanting an incantation. The strands twisted and writhed, transforming into three massive black serpents, their crimson tongues flickering, as they coiled to meet the dragon of darkness.

Both were masters of profound power. Their spells clashed with the force of a raging storm, the air thrumming with muffled booms. The echoes were carefully contained within a hundred paces, each combatant mindful of the need to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

“Why do you not seek the central palace, shrouded in black mist? Why must you contend for this place?” The woman chanted, her hands weaving a complex seal. Multicolored light enveloped her, forming five gleaming swords that slashed outwards.

With a sweeping gesture, the black-clad man summoned a dark-auraed blade. It spun before him, then darted forward, colliding with the five ethereal swords in a shower of sparks.

“Spare me your charade! Why do you not go there yourself? This may appear to be merely a kiosk, but it conceals a teleportation array. From its design, it leads to a pocket dimension, a storage space. You know this well, so cease your pretense!”

The woman maintained an unreadable facade, but her eyes glinted with cold realization. He spoke the truth. She had suspected as much upon first seeing the kiosk, and that was precisely why she fought so fiercely to claim it.

As their magical implements continued to clash, the sharp, ringing sounds grew ever louder, threatening to echo throughout the area. The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Our powers are well matched,” she stated. “Before either of us can claim victory, we will surely draw unwanted eyes. Let us enter the teleportation array together, and divide the spoils equally!”

The black-clad man considered her, then nodded curtly. Without another word, they both sheathed their weapons and stepped into the kiosk.

But the instant they crossed the threshold, both heads snapped up, their gazes fixed on a distant point. There, amidst a cluster of towering pavilions, a lone figure emerged.

It was Wang Lin!

His eyes met theirs, his expression hardening. He stopped, his advance stalled.

Upon seeing Wang Lin, a peculiar smile crept across the black-clad man’s face. The woman, however, regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Her gaze swept over him, and a chill ran down her spine.

“His power… it is more unsettling than before! When I first saw him, he possessed the strength of a Cleansing Nirvana cultivator, yet his aura seemed merely Nascent Soul. Even recently, it had only reached the mid-Nascent Soul stage. But now… now, he has reached the peak of Nascent Soul! Is he concealing his true power, or has he achieved a breakthrough?”

Wang Lin carefully scrutinized the pair. He understood the significance of the kiosk, its secrets revealed in the jade scroll. The teleportation array within led to a hidden storage space. Even without the map, his discerning eyes would have recognized the telltale signs.

“Fellow Daoist Wang has arrived,” the woman said, her voice measured. “Then let us proceed together, the three of us, and divide the spoils into equal shares! What say you?” Wang Lin was about to respond when a sudden tremor shook the ground, accompanied by a furious roar that echoed from afar.

They looked in the direction of the sound, but could discern nothing. The manifold enchantments of the Immortal Emperor’s abode, combined in countless ways, created a complex web of obstacles. It was as if they existed within countless worlds, each separated by invisible barriers. Even those standing close by could be hidden from view, their very forms distorted by the swirling energies.
The chamber appeared serene at first glance. A deceptive facade, for should the wards be broken, a bamboo grove would be revealed in the distance, shrouded in a crimson, intoxicating mist. From within this haze echoed a furious roar, a sound that rent the very heavens.

Wang Lin’s expression darkened, his gaze, though sharp, detected no immediate change in the bamboo forest. Yet, he understood. Beneath the placid exterior, the grove’s ancient bindings had been sundered. The escape of the being held within came sooner than he’d foreseen.

Ignoring the village woman’s words, Wang Lin blurred into motion, hurtling towards the black mist-shrouded palace at the heart of this place. Along his path, he had witnessed the wards, the protective eyes of the complex, all breached. Clearly, another had preceded him, claiming passage into the second level.

He had chosen this pavilion as it offered the path of least resistance, a comparatively unguarded approach to the palace engulfed in darkness.

The figure cloaked in black watched Wang Lin’s sudden, frantic flight at the roar’s approach. Understanding dawned in his eyes. Without hesitation, he abandoned the pavilion’s teleportation array, choosing instead to pursue Wang Lin directly.

Only the village woman hesitated, her face a mask of indecision. But as she pondered, the enraged bellow grew closer, a promise of terrifying proximity.

Imagine, were the dimensional barriers of this place lifted, a vantage point from above would reveal the creature in human form, striding purposefully towards Wang Lin. As it advanced, it triggered countless defenses. Blasts of warding light would erupt, unleashing waves of magical assault, and certain enchantments would attempt to banish it from the plane.

Yet, within mere breaths, the creature would tear its way back from these extradimensional prisons. And with each assault, it seemed to learn. Its method of breaking through grew faster, more efficient, until finally, its progress was nearly a straight line, a relentless charge towards its prey.