Gazing at the maw of the cavern, a glint of fierce determination ignited in Wang Lin’s eyes. He planted his foot, each step drawing him inexorably closer to the abyss. But the moment his form breached the threshold of ten paces from the entrance, the heavens above the Realm of Seven Hues convulsed. A colossal vortex ripped open in the sky, its swirling embrace accompanied by a mournful wail, a sound both alien and unsettling. The eerie resonance struck deep within the heart, kindling an inferno of primal rage in all who heard it.

Wang Lin staggered, his head snapping skyward. Through the churning vortex, his vision pierced the veil of reality, revealing a glimpse of the star-strewn cosmos, and within it, a grand palace of unimaginable scale. His gaze locked onto this impossible sight, and in that instant, a surge of madness, swift and overwhelming, coursed through his veins, a feeling both alien and irresistible.

Simultaneously, the Seven Hues of the Realm intensified, the celestial colours coalescing into a blinding torrent, rushing towards Wang Lin as if drawn to a singular source. In that moment, his very being became the locus of the Realm, a magnet drawing in the infinite waves of chromatic energy, engulfing him in a relentless embrace.

In the span of a few breaths, the Seven Hues of the Realm reached a fever pitch, an incandescent flood of light that permeated all existence. Too much light, too fast; Wang Lin stood paralyzed.

His mind ensnared by a force beyond comprehension, he was powerless to command his flesh, as the chromatic energy surged towards him, seeking purchase upon his mortal form.

Gradually, the iridescent flood swelled, reaching an apex where the very essence of the Realm seemed to pour forth, leaving the land beyond in utter darkness. From high above, the Realm of Seven Hues resembled a shrinking circle, all its chromatic essence converging upon the lone figure of Wang Lin.

Within him, the seed of madness flourished with each surge of iridescent energy, ultimately blossoming into a chromatic tempest that threatened to drown his very soul, replacing it with an unrestrained, unbridled frenzy, as clear and potent as aged, refined wine.

Driven by this intoxicating madness, Wang Lin’s features contorted, veins bulging upon his brow as a primal roar erupted from his throat, a sound akin to a wounded beast, echoing through the heavens like thunder, shaking the very foundations of reality.

The chromatic energy continued its relentless assault, and Wang Lin writhed, desperate to break free, but the encroaching madness held him captive. The more he struggled, the more potent the delirium became.

Haunting cries escaped his lips, and in those fleeting moments, sweat soaked his garments, his hair danced in an unseen wind, and his eyes blazed with an infernal light. Wang Lin, in that moment, broke.

Reason abandoned him, consciousness fled, and memories dissolved into the ether. The world before his eyes transformed into a sea of crimson. The only thought that remained was: Kill. Kill all that breathed, obliterate all that existed. A bestial rage ignited within his breast, so potent that even Li Muwan herself, standing before him, would be met with a fatal blow.

Completely submerged in madness, Wang Lin was no longer a man, but a savage killing machine. The more his lust for blood grew, the stronger the madness gripped him.

At that moment, seven-tenths of the Realm’s chromatic essence had already been absorbed into his being, leaving a desolate, dark wasteland in its wake. Wang Lin roared, his features twisted in a horrifying manner, enough to shock even his closest kin. Immersed in the chromatic torrent, he had forever succumbed to the prison of slaughter.

His form swelled with an incomprehensible power, the gnawing pain lost to his awareness. Only the insatiable thirst for blood remained.

In an instant, fire blazed from his left eye, engulfing his being in flames, while his right eye crackled with lightning that coursed through his body. The mountain upon which he stood shuddered violently.

The relentless influx of chromatic energy continued unabated, plunging the surrounding landscape into darkness. In a matter of moments, the Realm of Seven Hues had vanished, swallowed whole by the night, devoid of even a single ray of light.

All the light had been drawn into Wang Lin, fueling his madness.

In that final instant, as the last glimmer of light disappeared from the Realm of Seven Hues, Wang Lin threw back his head and unleashed a feral roar, his bloodshot eyes burning with the desire to destroy everything, including himself.

“Ah, but this…this is the most exquisite flame in all of creation. Its name? Fury. Embrace your fury, revel in your madness, and let it boil your very soul. Add the final ingredient to my grand design…I wonder, will it burn my fingers?” A weathered voice echoed from within the vortex, defying the passage of time, its sound heavy with the weight of ages.

Wang Lin’s body collapsed. His consciousness, his soul, all but the mortal shell, transformed into a crimson ray, surging forth, towards the yawning maw of the cave.

Within the cave was a vast field of magma, roiling and bubbling, releasing noxious fumes into the air. Chains stretched taut across the landscape, each adorned with a withered husk, a grim testament to ages past. Countless jade tablets drifted through the air, each containing within it an imprisoned Dao, their lamentations echoing through the void. The magma itself glowed with an eldritch light, illuminating a tapestry of runes carved into the rock below. Each pulse of light released a surge of imprisoned Dao from the tablets, which sunk into the magma, and were absorbed into the runes.

And in that moment, drops of inky liquid fell from the chained corpses into the magma, causing it to seethe even further.

The moment the crimson ray that was Wang Lin plunged into the cavern, every jade tablet exploded into dust, releasing a swarm of Daos into the magma. Simultaneously, the chained corpses detonated, flooding the magma in an inky deluge.
In a heartbeat, ruby blooms erupted upon the molten lake. A deafening roar echoed as the magma began to whirl, its inscribed runes dissolving, coalescing into an unfathomable vortex. Just as Wang Lin, a crimson streak, plunged into the cavern, the swirling fire consumed him.

Swifter and swifter spun the magma, until, in a mere breath, it pierced the veil of the cave and tore open a gateway to a star-strewn abyss!

It was a cosmos boundless and deep, where countless stars formed a colossal array, its scale rivaling entire star clusters.

Each star was but a fragment of this grand design. At the very heart of the array stood seven botanical wonders, like blossoms of disparate hues, together forming a spectrum of the rainbow. Though a mere hundred lengths in stature, dwarfed by the immensity of the cosmos, these seven held the very essence of this celestial realm. The entire starfield, the star-woven array, existed solely to nourish these mystical plants!

With the power of a star cluster, with the vitality of countless worlds, with the energy drawn from rifts akin to the shattered Seven-Colored Realm, boundless streams of arcane energy were drawn in, distilled into lifeblood to feed these seven wonders, nurturing their growth until they flowered and bore fruit.

This starfield was not a realm unto itself, but was crafted by an ancient and potent magic and anchored to the very weave of the Sealed Realm Array. With each mortal death within the Seal, their arcane essence was drawn into the array, becoming sustenance for this garden. This was the Path of Cultivation through Planting!

For ages untold, through epochs of time, this process continued unabated, each soul lost within the Sealed Realm fueling the eternal growth.

In the era of the Ancient Immortals, before the comprehension of Intent, this array drew upon the celestial laws of the Sealed Realm’s immortals. In the forgotten aeons of the Prehistoric, before the understanding of Rule, the array imbibed the very essence of those ancient cultivators. Thus, these seven mystical plants were nurtured, so that they might bring forth the fruit of the Dao…

At this moment, within the crimson plant, red as arterial blood, sat a skeleton in meditative repose. Upon the bones were inscribed countless mystic verses, radiating a faint darkness, swiftly absorbed by the plant’s essence.

The crimson blossom was a vision of deadly beauty, its petals like drops of fresh blood. Yet its stamen had already fallen, leaving only a few petals clinging to the bloom. When those last petals fell, the crimson plant would finally bear its fruit.

Suddenly, a rift tore open in the void beside the plant, and a crimson ray burst forth, drawn inexorably towards the flower. In an instant, it melded with the bloom. Within that light were the spirit and essence of Wang Lin, now absorbed into the plant, appearing beside the seated skeleton.

The plant, as if having received its final draught of nourishment, shed the last of its petals. The heart of the flower stirred with an eerie life, and slowly, a crimson fruit began to form. Time passed, an eternity, or so it seemed. The rift outside the plant began to shrink, as if it would soon close.

Within the plant, Wang Lin’s form had dissolved, the space he occupied now filled with a crimson fluid. Slowly, the skeleton beside him crumbled, its bones transmuting into a violet-gold essence, becoming one with the crimson liquid. Time flowed on, a year, a decade, two decades, four decades…an age seemed to pass…

The crimson fluid dwindled, each drop becoming nourishment for the burgeoning fruit. As the fluid diminished, the fruit swelled, its crimson hue deepening to a tempting, blood-like color. Ninety-eight years passed…

“You once asked if I would burn my fingers after the fire had blazed. Now, I can answer… I will not…” A voice, ancient and weathered, echoed through the starfield…

“The Seven-Colored Flower is about to yield a fruit… The fruits of the other six are not far behind… I, swayed by the Sovereign of the Palm, chose not to face the tribulations of the Emptiness, but chose to end my path of cultivation. I did not seek the existence of the Fourth Step beyond the Heavens, but willingly became a gardener to his crimson plant, for I hoped that his Grand Design would one day succeed… Now, that day seems close…”