A hush fell upon the grand hall, every eye transfixed upon the ethereal form of the Voidchild’s divided spirit. The arcane sequence of attacks, born from some forbidden art, unfolded with breathtaking ferocity.

Seven strikes landed, each a whisper of impending doom. Then, the eighth descended, coiling like a silver serpent, followed swiftly by the ninth and tenth. The pace quickened, each blow more devastating than the last. By the nineteenth, then the twenty-second, the onslaught bordered on the incomprehensible.

Wang Lin’s skin withered, his face paled. Even the ancient God-power within him strained against the relentless assault. From the seventeenth strike onwards, each subsequent blade amplified the power of its predecessor tenfold. The twenty-third blade proved to be Wang Lin’s limit. As it fell, his eyes snapped open, blazing with desperate resolve.

Like lightning rending the sky, the silver aura surrounding the Voidchild’s spirit stilled. In that instant of frozen time, it erupted with blinding intensity, bathing the hall in an unbearable radiance. Twenty-three shimmering silver swords materialized around the Voidchild’s divided essence. In a heartbeat, they plunged inward, piercing the soul with a unified strike.

Like twenty-three silver meteors, the blades surged forward with impossible speed, embedding themselves into the Voidchild’s spirit in a deafening cacophony. Incapable of evasion, the spirit was pierced through. The purple ice that resided within fractured and shattered, signaling its demise. Along with the fragments of ice, the Voidchild’s divided spirit also shattered, rent asunder into a thousand pieces.

Yet, the onslaught was not over. The twenty-three blades, now interwoven into a deadly net, hurtled towards Voidchild, the one sensing and drawing strength from the source. Seeing the approaching destruction, Voidchild spat a mouthful of blood, his eyes wide with horror.

“This… This isn’t an ordinary Subspace Nirvana artifact!” He never imagined that Wang Lin possessed such a fearsome weapon, nor that it would be so difficult to destroy. With his divided spirit annihilated, he suffered a grievous wound.

As the twenty-three blades, responsible for the destruction of his essence and Nirvana treasure, bore down upon him, Voidchild’s scalp crawled with dread. An instant more, and he would grasp the secrets of the Source. To evade now would be akin to self-slaughter.

“I cannot yield!” In that moment, Voidchild comprehended Wang Lin’s scheme. By offering the Source as bait, he forced Voidchild to dedicate his strength to understanding it, creating a deadly trap from which there was no escape.

Instead of retreating, he struck his storage pouch and produced a black tortoise shell. No larger than a palm, the shell emanated an aura of ancient power, its origins unknown. This too was a Subspace Nirvana artifact. As a high-ranking member of the Alliance, Voidchild possessed no shortage of magical treasures. He hurled the shell forward. Ignoring it, he focused his mind entirely on the Source, sensing that he was on the precipice of comprehending the very road to the third step.

The shell hovered before him, radiating an ebony light. But as it began to gleam, the twenty-three blades crashed into it. The first three, aligned as one, slammed into the shell with a deafening roar. It shuddered backward, but held firm.

Yet, the attack was far from over. In the wake of the third blade’s dissolution, the fourth, fifth, and so on, all the way to the twenty-first, struck in near unison. The remaining blades pierced the black shell, the impacts resounding through the air.

Under the relentless barrage, cracks appeared across its surface, the damage mounting quickly. Only three breaths could the enchanted shell withstand the forces, and then splintered into countless fragments that scattered in every direction.

With the barrier gone, the twenty-second and twenty-third blades surged through the void, aiming directly for Voidchild. These final two swords contained the greatest destructive power.

Voidchild was too close to act, his focus was fixed on the Source. But the opportunity to ascend was too great. In a moment of desperation, he raised his hands, causing his robes to billow as a tempest of purple energy erupted from his body, forming a whirlwind.

The twenty-second blade struck with a thunderous boom, shattering the whirlwind. In the wake of its destruction, the final blade pierced through, striking Voidchild in the chest.

In that instant, Wang Lin’s eyes shone. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the culmination of his deadly gamble. With a trembling hand, he smeared a sliver of rust from his iron sword and flicked it forward.

The twenty-third blade struck Voidchild, the man coughing up blood and his face paling. His chest was lacerated.

“So close!” Voidchild roared in fury, ignoring the pain as he continued to seek the Source. He was on the brink of understanding the third step.

It was then that the rust, imbued with an unholy power, found its mark. As Voidchild was about to grasp the ultimate truth, it enveloped him like a gentle breeze.

Voidchild spasmed as blood gushed from his wounds. He was forced to retreat, torn away from the Crimson Source, his efforts wasted.

“No!” Voidchild’s eyes burned with a bestial rage, yet his body spun uncontrollably, spiraling away from the Source.

Wang Lin’s third eye flickered, the Crimson Source extinguished and drawn back.

Grasping the iron sword, Wang Lin cast a cold gaze upon the village maiden. She flinched, unable to meet his gaze. Even the black-clad man recoiled, his eyes filled with awe and fear. At that moment, Wang Lin stood at the pinnacle of his power.

By whatever means, he had defeated a Nirvana cultivator. “You seek my Source? My treasures? Come and claim them.” Wang Lin vanished into the purple vortex, leaving behind an echo of dread.

The black-clad man trembled. Despite knowing Wang Lin was weakened, he dared not risk another attack.

“The Vermillion Bird Sect will rise anew, to a height never before seen! Who bestowed this power?” The black-clad man gasped.

Voidchild landed heavily, his face ashen. “So close! Just a sliver!” He clenched his fists. The pain, coupled with the destruction of his essence, weakened his spirit.

Yet, Voidchild’s eyes burned with a renewed purpose. “He will never become the Vermillion Bird Emperor! I will forsake my ascension, even if it means an early doom.”

The village maiden was more shaken than the others. Beyond the power of the Source, it was the iron sword that truly frightened her. She recalled an elder speaking of treasures. The greatest treasures could be classified as Spirit, Mystical, Immortal, Void, or Nirvana. The elder had only witnessed Nirvana-class treasures.

Spiritual and Mystical treasures were common among the practitioners, especially the beginners. Immortal treasures were rare, but achievable for some practitioners.

But to the Second Step cultivators, these types of treasures were inadequate. Only Void-class treasures that were found in the Ancient battlefields could satisfy their cultivation needs.