## The Shattering Mountain Spell!

The moment the words left Wang Lin’s lips, the starfield where the shattered-stone formation held sway buckled under an unseen force. The myriad phantom volcanoes that had manifested around him began to merge, collapsing in upon themselves with terrifying speed.

One by one, the spectral peaks coalesced, until in the blink of an eye, a single, colossal mountain formed before him. So real was its presence that it defied all semblance of illusion.

The peak towered over a thousand fathoms, not a grand size in the vast cosmic sea, but before the assembled cultivators, it was a behemoth of stone and fire, its very existence radiating a crushing pressure that filled the heavens.

The starfield itself shuddered as the mountain materialized, ripples of distortion spreading through the void as if the fabric of reality recoiled. The stone formation, already strained, groaned under the mountain’s weight. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, and chunks of rock crumbled and fell away like dust.

“Mountain Shatter!” he roared.

The mountain trembled violently, its peak erupting in a cataclysmic explosion of rock and fire. Countless shards of molten stone spewed outwards in a scorching rain, scattering across the starfield.

From the mountain’s gaping wound poured a choking cloud of black smoke, laced with a crimson inferno. This was not mere fire, but a consuming blaze that promised oblivion, spitting out fragments of fiery rock, each wreathed in dark smoke, to plummet from the heavens.

Several cultivators from the Cloudsea Star Territory were caught in the inferno. Their screams echoed through the void as the fiery stones struck them. Their bodies were reduced to pulped gore in an instant, and the burning ichor consumed their nascent souls.

The black smoke itself was a venomous breath, filled with lethal fire-dust that spread like a creeping plague. In moments, the starfield was transformed into a vision of doomsday, a nightmare made real.

One cultivator, who had nearly escaped the formation, found himself enveloped by the toxic dust. Before he could utter a final prayer, he shrieked in agony as his body dissolved into a cloud of black vapor. His soul, too, was incinerated, leaving only a hollow nothingness in its wake.

Even the seven-colored lightning bolts of the celestial tribulation, descending from the heavens, were disrupted by the black smoke and the inferno, detonating prematurely in a thunderous chorus that shook the cosmos.

Those cultivators who managed to dodge the fiery stones and avoid the toxic dust were not spared. The deafening thunder shattered their souls, leaving them choking on blood, their eyes dimming as they succumbed to a silent, eternal oblivion.

The screams of the dying reverberated through the starfield, a morbid symphony of destruction.

But the mountain’s wrath was not yet spent. It shuddered once more, and waves of molten lava cascaded down its slopes, bathing the starfield in an unbearable heat and the stench of annihilation.

Seven or eight cultivators, caught too close to the eruption, scrambled to escape. Two were enveloped by the fire-dust and perished screaming. Another was crushed beneath a falling boulder, his body dissolving into vapor in the all-consuming heat.

Their deaths, however swift, were a mercy compared to the fate of the remaining four. They were engulfed by a wave of molten lava. Their bodies were consumed in an instant, leaving behind only charred skeletal remains frozen in the act of fleeing. Even these fragile frames crumbled to dust, and their souls were obliterated.

Those with stronger cultivation bases endured the worst agony, trapped within the molten inferno, their spells and treasures proving useless against the mountain’s fury.

Far away, the Mosquito Beast King, aided by its unparalleled speed, rallied the remaining members of its swarm. With cold eyes and an unquenchable thirst for vengeance, it guided them towards the center of the shattered formation. The seals that had once bound them were no more, and the swarm was free to wreak havoc.

The mosquitoes, sensing their king’s presence, responded with shrill cries of anticipation. They followed him in a fearsome swarm, plunging through the chaos towards the yellow-robed cultivator who had dared to lead them astray.

The youth, he of the wounded leg, had barely evaded one flaming rock when he sensed the approaching swarm. His face paled as he recognized his tormentors, but it was too late. The mosquitoes descended upon him, tearing his body apart in a cacophony of screams.

Sated by the taste of blood, the swarm, led by their vengeful king, sought out the remaining two who had dared to threaten their kin.

All of this transpired in the blink of an eye. In the wake of the mountain’s destruction, there was only death. The purple-robed elder, stripped of his physical form, fled with a soul wracked with fear, dodging the falling stones and the toxic dust, desperately seeking the shattered remains of the formation.

The other elder, his face ashen, bypassed the carnage, abandoning his disciples to their fate as he sought escape. Regret gnawed at his heart, for he had allowed greed to cloud his judgment, leading to this catastrophe.

Wang Lin, his expression impassive, felt no pity for these wretches. They had dared to covet his Mosquito Beasts, and now they would pay the price. Raising his hands, he pushed upwards, uttering a chilling command: “Mountain, First Collapse!”

The mountain shuddered anew, its peak disgorging a torrent of molten stone. The fire-dust, already blanketing the starfield, swirled upwards, transforming into a cataclysmic shockwave that swept outwards. Those who remained were consumed by the flames, their screams ending in ash.

The fastest of the fleeing cultivators, the purple-robed elder, reached the heart of the fractured formation, only to find its remnants crumbling before him. The formation’s core, weakened, began to shatter.

The escaping cultivators, their hopes dashed, screamed in despair as the mountain’s wrath fell upon them. Burning stones struck them. One cultivator had his soul set ablaze. Fire dust enveloped him, and his skin broke out with boils.

“Even if I die,” he screamed, “I will take you with me!” He charged at Wang Lin, and his soul began to burn with the flames of self destruction.

Wang Lin remained impassive. Raising his right hand, he cast a spell of binding. Then, he used the power of his fire origin to unleash the Kun Ji whip, which snaked out like a dragon and struck the cultivator, ending his self-destruction.

The Kun Ji whip pulled the cultivator to Wang Lin’s side, where Wang Lin cast him into the Storage Space.

The remaining cultivator, witnessing these events, fled in terror.

Wang Lin gave chase, and uttered a cry. “Second Collapse!”

This was the pinnacle of Wang Lin’s comprehension of the Mountain Shattering Spell, a testament to his power and a declaration of his will. The world itself trembled as the Second Collapse unleashed its fury. The mountain finally shattered, rock and soul alike, with the burning stones and fire dust covering the starfield.

And then, at Wang Lin’s command, the fiery chaos swirled around him, becoming a burning river that encompassed the starfield. Wang Lin, wreathed in fire and wielding unimaginable power, stood as a towering god, his face cold and impassive.