Grasping the iridescent dart, Wang Lin, propelled by its force, retreated with haste, landing beneath the mountain’s embrace. Above him, the three-headed avian beast, a tempest of black shadows, descended with ravenous cries.

Without pause for thought, Wang Lin plunged forward, disappearing into the maw of a hidden passage. Ignoring the searing pain that coursed through his very being, he flew onward.

The echoing roars of the transformed beast lingered in his ears, yet it dared not follow into the passage. Instead, it paced the entrance, a display of savage fury, before finally receding, its form dissolving into the mists that crowned the mountain’s peak.

Within the shadowed tunnel, Wang Lin sought a secluded haven. He wove a tapestry of protective wards before him, then swallowed potent elixirs, channeling their energies through rhythmic breaths.

His mortal form was gravely wounded, but the essence of the Ancient God, beyond its raw might, possessed an uncanny ability to mend. Within hours, his wounds began to knit.

Yet, Wang Lin did not stir. He remained in meditative posture, coaxing the Ancient God’s power to suffuse every corner of his being. As he healed, his inner energies surged, permeating his flesh. Without the iridescent dart, no barrier remained to hinder Wang Lin’s restoration.

Time flowed like an unseen river. Two days hence, Wang Lin’s eyes snapped open, twin bolts of lightning illuminating the inky passage. He rose, testing his limbs, the wounds now mere echoes. His spirit, once weary, now pulsed with vitality. His strength had returned to its zenith. Even had Cang Songzi been unscathed, Wang Lin was ready for a renewed clash!

With a surge of motion, Wang Lin became a blur of motion, traversing the passage and emerging into the vale below. Drawing a deep breath, he recalled his harrowing ordeal. In his hand, a singular dart, radiating a spectrum of color, materialized.

He regarded the object with wary respect. Had it not been for the resilience of his Ancient God flesh, which resisted the dart’s immediate petrification, preventing an instant descent into madness, the outcome would have been grim indeed. It was this very fortitude that had allowed him to endure the pain and expel the dart.

No ordinary cultivator could have survived this encounter. Even a being of the Broken Nirvana stage, lacking the Ancient God’s resilience, would have met their demise.

“This is no mere trinket,” he murmured. “It shattered iron, pierced my flesh, and sought to bind to my very bones. Had the iron sword not blunted its blow, it would have turned my skeleton to prismatic glass.” Wang Lin studied the dart, his mind reaching out, claiming it with his essence before storing it within his dimensional space.

“A loss followed by a gain,” he mused. “The sword is sundered, but I possess a weapon of greater potency. This dart shall be my secret weapon! Even a Broken Nirvana master will fall before its venomous touch!”

Lost in thought, Wang Lin retrieved Pang Decai’s ring from the void and placed it upon his thumb. Its defensive properties were remarkable, a valuable ward within the Seven-Colored Realm.

He then brought forth a short sword, once impaled through a stag’s skull within a forgotten chamber. Sadly, the seal upon it remained unbroken by Wang Lin’s current power. After a moment’s contemplation, he stored it away.

Finally, he revealed a miniature, blood-red spirit, the essence of Bai Cangsongzi. The captured spirit writhed within Wang Lin’s grasp, its eyes flashing with primal rage, emitting low, guttural snarls.

“Intriguing,” Wang Lin observed. He exhaled a stream of vital energy, engulfing the spirit and drawing it into his own soul, a vessel for its imprisonment. This entity, both spirit and artifact, was undeniably strange. Though its origins remained a mystery, Wang Lin would not be deterred from its refinement.

Through the power of the Godslayer’s Art, he would erase Cangsongzi’s imprint, claiming the spirit for himself. Only then would its secrets be unveiled.

“Though this battle with Cang Songzi left us both wounded, and cost me dearly, I have gained much: the jade bottle’s essence, the iridescent dart, the blood-red spirit, and the crystal sword!” Wang Lin gestured, summoning his trident, from which a sliver of crystalline sharpness drifted free.

He grasped the small blade, feeling the faint aura of an approaching Nirvana artifact. Though it could not rival his shattered iron sword, its might was undeniable.

With his treasures examined, Wang Lin’s gaze sharpened. He surmised that the Seven-Colored Realm held a bounty of such relics. Cang Songzi’s artifacts hinted at a deeper connection, the pearl capable of summoning divine abilities.

“This realm is a trove of wonders. If Cang Songzi could claim these treasures, so can I… The coming conflicts will be decided by who unearths the most potent artifacts and elixirs, by who can elevate their strength!” Wang Lin licked his lips. He moved with purpose towards the vale’s heart. His first goal: Sima Mo’s hidden sanctuary, as etched in Pang Decai’s memory!

Pang Decai recalled that the sanctuary had been partially discovered but remained unopened, a goal for the coming days once they strengthened their power with beast souls. “An untouched and intact dwelling,” Wang Lin mused. Guided by Pang Decai’s memories, he threaded through the vale’s intricate web, his movements swift and silent, triggering no traps.

The landscape was vast, a maze of valleys, many littered with ruined wards and long-looted chambers.

A day passed before Wang Lin halted before a seemingly unremarkable valley. Yet, with closed eyes, a sense of chilling foreboding seeped into his soul.

The valley was choked with weeds and fractured barriers. This was Sima Mo’s forgotten domain.

After cautious observation, Wang Lin stepped forward. Nearing the valley’s mouth, he paused, his eyes gleaming with calculation. With a final hand seal, a fabricated ward materialized, then hurled forward, a projectile of protective magic.

Instantly, the valley shuddered, like a painted canvas tearing apart before Wang Lin’s very eyes.
A shift rippled through the air, transforming the once ordinary valley into a landscape of violet hues. Gone were the common grasses, replaced by a desolate expanse of black earth. Even the entrance succumbed to the change, a curtain of impenetrable shadow woven across its opening, barring the path of any who dared approach.

This valley was guarded by layered enchantments. The first, a mere illusion, defied all attempts at unraveling, ultimately leading nowhere near the true sanctum. It was this illusory veil that Pond and his companions had fruitlessly striven to overcome.

But Wang Lin, with his profound mastery of arcane wards, discerned the deception with ease. With a simple gesture, he unveiled the second, deeper enchantment, revealing the valley’s true, forbidding nature.

He gazed upon the shadowy barrier, a wry grimace etching itself upon his face. It was a ‘Time Lock,’ akin to the one protecting the jade bottle taken by Cang Songzi – an enchantment rooted in the very passage of years.

Placing his hand upon the shimmering veil, Wang Lin pondered. His knowledge of such wards allowed him to estimate its age – nearly two millennia. Though not as ancient as the one surrounding the jade bottle, its undoing would be a formidable task, attainable only by sacrificing a precious artifact to brute force its destruction.

Lost in thought, Wang Lin weighed his options. A moment later, a spark ignited within his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, a jade slip materialized in his hand – a relic he had acquired within the wild lands of the Barbarian Continent, a possession once belonging to Sima Mo! “I found Sima Mo’s legacy in the Barbarian Continent, and now I find his sanctuary here… how intriguing…” His expression remained a carefully guarded mask, betraying neither joy nor concern.

Holding the jade slip aloft, he slowly extended it towards the shadowy barrier. Instantly, the veil convulsed with raw energy, countless waves of power swirling and converging upon the slip in his hand. Then, a resounding crack echoed through the valley as the impenetrable barrier fractured outward from the jade slip, revealing a passage barely wide enough to traverse.

Wang Lin’s gaze sharpened, weighing the possibilities. He stepped forward, entering the rift without hesitation. As he passed through, the fissure healed, the energy dissipated, and the barrier returned to its somber vigil.

Even the illusion returned. The violet valley faded back into the mundane, the black earth concealed beneath a new shroud of common grass. All was as it had been before Wang Lin’s arrival.

Beyond the veil, a verdant meadow stretched before him. The valley was small, barely a hundred paces across, yet the surrounding cliffs were riddled with nine caves, each sealed by a weathered stone door.

Upon the grassy floor lay a skeleton, seated in lotus position against the cliff directly ahead. Its skull was bowed, and its right index finger touched the earth. Before it rested three jade slips. Wang Lin stood silent, studying the remains. The bones shimmered with an iridescent sheen, emanating a faint, otherworldly light.

Slowly, he approached the skeleton, kneeling to examine it more closely. He picked up the first jade slip, channeling his spiritual sense into its depths.

“…I never imagined I would return here… That year, my Senior Brother, several other members of the sect, and I followed his request and found that strange spatial fissure… It was an odd fissure, emitting a seven-colored light that was so beautiful… My Junior Sister loved rainbows, and I once promised to pluck one from the sky and fill her room…

We entered the fissure, venturing into this terrible nightmare… If only I knew it then…

Here, we reached the deepest depths and encountered that terrible entity. We learned of a shocking secret, one that could shake the whole cultivation world, not just Cloud Sea, but also Luo Tian, Zhao He, Kun Ya! It was an unimaginable secret!

But it was too late… We destroyed our own hope… We are sinners… My master expelled me from the sect. I know he had no choice. My fellow disciples and I left, wandering lost in the mists of Cloud Sea. Looking at those mists, I’m scared… Because of that secret…

I never imagined that when we were in despair, the Boundless Tribulation would appear again. We barely escaped, but ultimately, we will still have to return here… Maybe I will never leave… Is this fate…? I believe in fate. I believe in destiny…”