The Celestial Emperor Bai Fan wielded six arcane arts, of which Wang Lin had mastered the first three. Shimizu had spoken, saying the latter three possessed a might surpassing the former, enough to shake the very heavens! The Art of Mountain Fall was the first of these latter arts, its essence drawn from the collapse of mountains and peaks. Yet, the fall of a mountain was no simple matter, for each mountain held a soul. Should the body crumble while the soul remained intact, its power would be but ordinary.

Only with the simultaneous shattering of body and spirit could the true force of Mountain Fall be unleashed! Where mountains rose in chains, the art could manifest its full celestial might, yet this was but the first step.

The true Art of Mountain Fall, as Shimizu demonstrated, allowed one to conjure mountains from the mind in places where no mountains stood. To shape with intention, to shatter mountains in the soul and in the earth. To infuse the spiritual will with celestial power, forging the very soul of the mountain. When the mountain crumbled, so too did the power and the will collapse.

Through this, one could merge with the fabric of existence, conjuring countless peaks from the void, granting them true substance from illusion, wielding the power to shatter worlds! The key to this art lay not merely in the rending of mountain and soul, nor in the conjuring of mind, nor in the melding of power and spirit, but in a single word: Truth! How to breathe true existence into a phantom creation – that was the crux of Mountain Fall, and its greatest challenge! Gazing upon the distant volcanic eruption, feeling the tremors beneath his feet, Wang Lin opened his eyes, a glimmer of confusion within.

“Wan’er… what, truly, is truth… what is falsehood?”

His words were destined to find no answer. He stared into the distance, feeling the tremors in the world around him, his brow furrowing with concern.

“How can a mountain conjured from spiritual will become real?” This, Shimizu had not made clear, and the echoes of Shimizu’s wisdom within Wang Lin’s mind remained vague.

It seemed Shimizu desired Wang Lin to discover this truth himself, rather than inherit it.

“Truth… falsehood… are they like life and death, cause and effect?” Wang Lin closed his eyes once more, lost in contemplation. Around him, the volcano continued its furious eruption, drawing in distant peaks to join its fiery dance.

Soon, Wang Lin was engulfed in a sea of magma, an endless inferno.

Time seemed to cease. He knew not how long had passed, but when Wang Lin opened his eyes again, confusion still clouded his gaze. In silence, he reached forth and banished the coffin beside him into nothingness. He rose and plunged directly into the fiery depths.

Blazing magma surged forth, but could not halt his descent. He plunged through the molten rock, ever deeper, to the heart of the volcano.

There, he sat in the lotus position, forming a hand seal and spreading his arms. His eyes flashed with inner light, and he closed them once more.

“I shall not concern myself with truth or falsehood. If there is no truth in this world, then falsehood cannot exist. Truth and falsehood are simply states of being, like life and death! If there were no life, there would be no death. No cause, then no effect… Mo Zhi once said that all comprehension is born of the heart, that all things arise from the heart’s desire…”

As Wang Lin closed his eyes, the power of fire roared forth from his very being, merging with the surrounding magma until he was one with the molten rock.

In that instant, he *was* the magma! And as he merged with it, the power of fire spread further, entwining itself with the volcano that held the magma, until they too were one.

This was not the end. As Wang Lin’s power of fire expanded, it drew in the volcanic fumes and the very fire energy of the world itself, until all were fused into a single entity.

Then, Wang Lin felt a timeless aura emanating from the heart of the volcano, the very soul of the mountain! As he sensed this mountain-soul, his divine soul burst forth from his body and merged with the volcano.

In that moment, Wang Lin felt as though he *was* the volcano! As his soul entwined with the ancient mountain-soul, visions flashed before his eyes. He saw a burning world, and as the earth trembled, a mountain rose. Within it, the power of fire surged.

As time wore on, the power of fire became magma, until, at last, the peak erupted, spewing forth rivers of molten rock.

He saw the volcano quiet once more, saw savage beasts that thrived in its heat roam its slopes, saw disciples of the Vermillion Bird Sect soar through the skies.

Borne on the heat-scorched winds, seeds of hardy plants landed on the slopes, bursting into crimson grasses that carpeted the mountain, withering and blooming again in an endless cycle.

Again and again, earthquakes shook the land, and the mountain erupted.

Millennia passed before Wang Lin’s eyes, and he forgot his purpose, forgot his identity as a cultivator. It was as though he had truly become the volcano, its inner soul.

Each volcanic eruption was his catharsis, and in that single moment, Wang Lin understood.

“I *am* the volcano… My wrath *is* the mountain fall!” With this realization, Wang Lin’s spiritual will exploded outwards, engulfing the surrounding volcanoes.

His mind divided, reaching into each volcano, merging with its form, touching its soul. More visions flooded his consciousness.

He saw more volcanoes crumble, felt more mountain-souls suffer. As his soul scattered further, it spread throughout every volcano on the entire world.

At that moment, he was as though divided into thousands of selves, each one a volcano! “This is…” One of the elders of the Vermillion Bird Sect, who sat in meditation, suddenly opened his eyes, a look of confusion on his face. But then, he abruptly turned toward the volcano where Wang Lin was.
“It is the Holy Emperor!” Though tinged with the dust of ages, the aura was unmistakable. The elder, a cultivator who had shattered the very fabric of Nirvana, recognized it instantly. Yet, a profound astonishment gripped his heart.

He was astounded, for though the presence resonated with the sanctity of the Emperor, it bore no resemblance to the insignificant mortal he remembered. Before, Wang Lin had seemed but a fledgling Nirvana Scryer, his cultivation a mere two millennia in the making.

He and his fellow elders, while outwardly acknowledging Wang Lin’s ascension, harbored a secret resentment.

But now, the sheer antiquity that permeated this aura humbled him, making him feel as a child before a titan! Stunned, the elder leaped into the air, sensing the presence of his three fellow elders rising upon the same realization across the cultivation star.

Each carried the same shock in their minds, mirroring his own discovery.

And in that instant, every member of the Vermillion Bird Sacred Sect upon the star awoke with a start from their meditations. They all felt it – a wave of ancient and immense spiritual power that swept across them in the blink of an eye.

This alone might have passed with merely a ripple of concern amongst the four elders, but what followed caused them to gasp in utter disbelief! As the divine sense washed over the entire cultivation star, the dormant volcanoes erupted simultaneously as if stirred from a millennial slumber. A deafening roar shook the very foundation of the world, drowning out all other sound in a cataclysmic symphony of destruction.

And in that moment, the ancient power in the spiritual sense intensified tenfold, as if fueled by the collective might of the awakened volcanoes, suffusing the air with the crushing weight of ages! The sky was swallowed by a choking black fog, while rivers of molten rock flowed across the land. The four elders paled, their eyes wide with alarm.

“All Vermillion Bird Sacred Sect disciples, evacuate this star at once!” One elder’s voice boomed like thunder, and the members of the sect took to the skies, fleeing towards the void above.

The four elders joined them, leading their people away from the doomed world. They hung suspended in the starfield, most filled with confusion and fear, ignorant of the forces that had been unleashed.

Dark expressions settled on the faces of the four elders, their hearts churning with resentment towards the new Holy Emperor who was the source of this chaos! But even as their discontent arose, the all-encompassing divine sense, which had saturated the cultivation star, swelled again, reaching out into the starfield. It washed over the fleeing disciples and continued outwards, spanning across the burning region.

Another cultivation star was encompassed by the expanding consciousness, merging with it.

The ancient aura deepened…

Panic seized the inhabitants of that star as more Vermillion Bird Sacred Sect fled into the void.

As the spiritual sense continued its inexorable advance, it consumed every cultivation star within the region, growing into a behemoth of unimaginable power within the fiery starfield! The scattered members of the Vermillion Bird Sacred Sect were now afloat, including familiar faces such as Big Head.

Meanwhile, beyond the burning starfield of the Vermillion Bird Sacred Sect, located in the eastern part of the Alliance Star Territory, a ripple in space announced the arrival of a figure! An old man with windswept grey hair and a crimson robe. Wang Lin would have recognized him instantly – Yan Leizi.

No sooner had Yan Leizi appeared than another spatial distortion occurred, and a second figure emerged. A chilling aura emanated from this individual, a handsome middle-aged man with pale, corpse-like skin. Yet, the sheer force of his cultivation sent a shiver of apprehension through Yan Leizi.

“Luo Tian, Yan Leizi?” The middle-aged man’s eyes swept over him like shards of ice.

“One of the nine Kings of the Corpse Yin Sect. I wonder which King I have the honor of facing!” Yan Leizi’s voice remained steady, but his gaze was locked upon the newcomer.