In a fleeting breath, within the tapestry of the star-laden sky, iridescent rainbows bloomed. These celestial arches, swift as thought, descended in a heartbeat, each fearlessly plunging through the rent in the heavens, into the Demonspirit Land beyond.

Leading the charge was a celestial being wreathed in ethereal light, a paragon of immortality. Behind him surged a legion of immortals, a celestial host descending upon the ravaged realm. And in their wake, a tide of cultivators from the Alliance of Cultivation Worlds, an overwhelming force encircling the land.

For the Alliance, the Four Sacred Sects, Tian Yunzi, and the ancient demon Taga were all enemies. Even the immortals themselves harbored no desire to see Qing Shuang awakened, preferring the demon’s dominion, albeit fleeting, before its own annihilation.

Qing Shuang’s legendary renown echoed through the ages, a chilling testament to her power that instilled awe in the hearts of even the surviving immortals. Even the celestial lord leading the assault had once knelt before her in reverence, daring not a hint of defiance.

But now, fortified by the Alliance’s patronage, the immortals had reigned supreme for countless years. The memory of their former subservience was a shadow they desperately sought to erase.

Thus, Qing Shuang must remain dormant, and the ancient demon must meet its end.

“Form ranks!” bellowed the celestial lord, the moment they breached the Demonspirit Land. The Alliance cultivators, obedient to his command, swiftly performed arcane gestures. In a blink, the power of the heavens and earth coalesced into nine colossal swords of radiant light.

These nine great blades stood sentinel in the sky, encompassing a hundred *li* in their blinding aura.

“Refine the Dao!” the countless cultivators roared in unison, their voices thunderous, shaking the very fabric of existence. The formation surged to life, bathing the encompassed realm in a sea of blinding, celestial light.

The immortals, eager for battle, plunged toward the earth below, the majority heading directly for the black mist where the ancient demon and the elder of the Kunxu realm resided. Others veered towards Tian Yunzi, their eyes burning with righteous fury.

Chaos erupted in the Demonspirit Land, a maelstrom of conflict engulfing all.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, Wang Lin’s eyes blazed with an emerald light that pierced the heavens. The ground before him, torn asunder by Tian Yunzi, crumbled and cracked, rent by the ethereal glow that ascended through the earth’s core.

With the green light’s ascent, the earth shattered into ruin, a choking dust cloud rising from the ravaged landscape, scattering those who stood upon it.

Wang Lin leaped forward, his target Tian Yunzi, his resolve burning.

The sudden arrival of the Alliance and the surge of Wang Lin’s power did not escape Tian Yunzi’s notice. His face hardened, his grip tightening on his trident. With a scornful flick, he brushed aside Mu Bingmei’s entreaties, snarling, “Since you seek death, I shall grant it!”

Mu Bingmei hesitated, ready to defend her love, but Wang Lin’s icy voice echoed through the battlefield: “I need no aid! The pills I will repay, nay a hundred fold, and the life you saved, repaid in kind!”

Her face drained of color, she retreated into the shadows, her lip trembling, a crimson bead of blood forming where she bit down. She gazed at Wang Lin, a heartrending plea escaping her lips: “I wish to see him!” A longing resonated through her words, a deep, complex emotion she had carried for countless years.

None could comprehend the “him” of whom she spoke, save for Wang Lin. He understood, with a painful clarity, that “him” was Wang Ping, his fallen son.

The mention of Wang Ping tore at Wang Lin’s soul, a pain so profound that only those who had endured a similar loss could understand.

“You are not worthy!” Wang Lin bit out, the words like daggers as he charged towards Tian Yunzi.

Mu Bingmei offered a bitter smile, words failing her. The immortals of the Alliance descended upon her, and she turned to face them, her eyes glittering with a cold fury.

The frustration and tangled emotions brewing in her heart erupted against the celestial warriors. She darted forward, her short sword like a bolt of lightning in her hand.

Meanwhile, Wang Lin, his right eye a swirling emerald sun, bathed the world in an ethereal glow. He was imbued with an unimaginable power, his presence radiating a terrifying majesty.

Tian Yunzi, gripping his trident, felt a pang of alarm. The green light exuded a power he could not fathom.

“This is…”

“Tian Yunzi, our battle is not over!” Wang Lin roared, his right eye flaring, and from its depths, the green light shield emerged. Shattered and broken in past battles, the shards reformed, and with a deafening crash, shattered again into countless emerald specks, dissipating into the ether.

In that instant, Tian Yunzi’s spirit quaked. A primal dread, rarely experienced in his long life, washed over him. This time, it was different, so profound, that he gasped. He did not hesitate to brutally tear at the seal upon his brow.

He had yet to rend the seal entirely when a colossal hand descended from the sky, a fist as large as a mountain! A palm of titanic size, containing the force of a thousand suns, crashed down upon Tian Yunzi.

The heavens roared. The earth quaked. The hand retreated, and a gigantic foot descended, crushing the ground beneath it.

At the same moment, the starry expanse above the Demonspirit Land underwent an unimaginable transformation. A cacophony of sound reverberated through the heavens, forming a colossal vortex that spun wildly.

The vortex was limitless, swallowing everything in its path. Planets were devoured, caught in the maelstrom. Within the spinning chaos, images began to materialize, visions of a reality that seemed both real and impossible.
Before them stood ramparts of unimaginable scale, cyclopean architectures wrought in stark simplicity. Yet, a profound and primeval aura clung to them, an echo of ages long past. Here lay a blood-soaked land, a crimson canvas stretching to horizons unseen. Within this boundless expanse of titanic construction, the very heavens seemed to have surrendered, leaving only these monoliths to shoulder the sky.

Suddenly, a behemoth foot descended from the firmament, a thunderous boom as it impacted upon the tormented earth. The land fractured beneath its weight, a cataclysmic roar reverberating through the desolate plain.

The descending foot crushed a towering edifice, reducing it in an instant to rubble and dust. Simultaneously, a primordial bellow, a sound to shake the constellations, erupted from the void itself.

Within a swirling vortex of images, a brutal tableau unfolded: the foot’s owner was revealed – a titan, no less than ten thousand fathoms tall!

It was an Ancient God! An Eight-Star Ancient God!

But this alone was not enough to inspire true awe. For flanking this celestial giant were nearly a hundred more, each a colossal being of equal magnitude!

These hundred were no less than Eight-Star Ancient Gods, every single one!

And farther still, a shape of unimaginable proportions loomed, dwarfing even the Eight-Star Gods into insignificance, like ants beside mountains. Yet, even such comparison failed to capture the sheer immensity of this being!

Beyond, a miasma of demonic energy reigned, as Ancient Demons stalked the land. A cacophony of roars and war cries echoed from the unending tide of fiends. And further still, a tempest of bestial rage: Ancient Fiends, eyes blazing with bloodlust, charged forth in a frenzied assault!

This, then, was the Great War of the Ancient Three Tribes!

Upon the shattered ground, countless beings akin to cultivators waged desperate battles. Yet, these warriors far surpassed the power of mere cultivators. Organized into tribal factions, each bore upon their brow potent runes and totemic marks of life, locked in a frenzied and savage struggle!

The battlefield was too vast, too boundless. The vision within the stellar vortex revealed but a mere sliver of its entirety!

In the void above, all those present from the Land of the Spirit Daemon suddenly realized, with a chilling clarity, that their own realm was “gone”.

Everything they knew vanished, replaced by the horrors of the ancient battlefield. A palpable reality hung in the air, thick with the scent of blood and the echoes of dying screams.

Still, some refused to believe what their eyes were showing them, clinging to the notion of illusion. A celestial from the Cultivation Alliance, though shaken, sneered. He barely registered the encroaching shadow until he looked up to behold the descending foot of an Ancient God, hurtling towards him with earth-shattering force.

He had no time to flee. The gargantuan foot crashed down, the earth trembling with renewed violence. When the foot lifted, the immortal was no more. Only a smear of unrecognizable flesh remained, his very spirit obliterated!

The sight sent a collective gasp rippling through the ranks. Just then, a monstrous avian shape, at least a thousand fathoms in length, hurtled across the darkening sky, its screeches piercing the air.

A thunderous sonic boom rent the heavens as the winged horror unleashed its fury. Its wings, sharpened to razor edges, scythed through the air, cleaving scores of Alliance cultivators in twain. Blood rained upon the ravaged earth, mingling with the dust and despair.

“A Dream!” a choked voice whispered. “A return to the Ancient Times!!”

The battle between the Ancient Fiend, Ta Jia, the elder from Kun Xu, the celestial sovereign, and the assembled immortals ceased at once. They stared, transfixed, at the unfolding panorama of primal warfare.

Even the Ancient Fiend Ta Jia, his eyes widened with a terrible dread.

“The Ancient Times!” The elder from Kun Xu gasped. “Could this be… the Ancient Battlefield?!”

This, it seemed, was the power enshrined within Wang Lin’s azure shield – a life-saving grace bestowed by an Eight-Star Ancient God. A technique entrusted with the preservation of an immortal’s life was not to be dismissed.

The Ancient God’s Dream: a return to the dawn of time!

At that instant, the earth quaked even more violently as the hundred Ancient Gods began to lumber forward, their earth-shattering footfalls driving them inexorably towards the mortals before them!

And the Ancient Fiends and the Ancient Daemons, united in primal hunger, surged towards the same focal point, where the mortals huddled in terrified silence.

Behind those hundred behemoths, the incomprehensibly vast entity stirred, and its foot began to rise.