The ancient demon’s soul-wreathed Mist Demon Spear descended with terrifying speed, a wraith of darkness upon Si Mozi. The cultivator’s pupils constricted. Though he anticipated Wang Lin’s strength, he had not fathomed such formidable power.

“This whelp, though he has not yet achieved the Third Step, dares to contend with me! Should he break through the Void Gate, I fear I would be no match. Moreover, he knows of my past transgressions, revealing his origin within the Realm!”

“Such a being must be extinguished… Alas, upon the Emperor Star, I cannot unleash my deadliest arts!”

Instead of retreating, Si Mozi’s eyes narrowed, a frigid light igniting within them. But as that light arose, his face twisted in agony, and he coughed forth a mouthful of blood, staggering backward.

“Damnation! The Grand Empyrean spoke true – all cultivators of illusory fire deserve to perish! Accursed! This illusory fire cannot be evaded; any flicker of emotion fuels its flames. If it continues, this battle will turn against me!”

Without pause for further contemplation, Si Mozi raised a hand, and a silken cloth of pure white materialized in his grasp. Upon the cloth lay a stain of crimson, like the bloom of a blood-soaked plum blossom, disturbingly vibrant.

As Si Mozi unfurled the silk, it danced in the air, and the crimson stain transformed into a swirling mist, enveloping him in its scarlet embrace.

From within the swirling vapors, a mournful sigh echoed, and Wang Lin beheld, with stark clarity, a graceful form emerge from the crimson depths.

The figure, veiled in a gown of white gauze, raised a slender hand towards the approaching ancient demon soul.

A wave of ancient power surged from her touch, warping the air before her, and engulfing the demon soul within its grasp.

All transpired in a blink. Wang Lin strode forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as the ancient god stars between his eyes spun with increasing fervor. A beam of ethereal light erupted from the first star.

In the heavens before him, a thunderous roar shattered the air as a colossal cauldron materialized. The Hong Lu, vast beyond measure, radiated an aura of primeval age.

More astonishing still, the cauldron descended, encompassing both Si Mozi and the crimson-veiled figure within its fiery embrace!

A treasure of the Ancient God Royal Clan – the Emperor’s Furnace!

Si Mozi’s face paled as he looked upward, and he recoiled, attempting to flee with the spectral woman in tow. But as he moved, Wang Lin’s eyes blazed with crimson light, and he pointed a commanding finger towards the cultivator.

He roared, “Bind!! Bind!! Bind!!”

Each incantation struck like a thunderbolt. With each word, Wang Lin coughed forth blood, his face gaunt, but his eyes blazed with manic intensity!

The backlash threatened to overwhelm him, but in that moment, Si Mozi faltered, his movements seized in a brief but critical pause.

That hesitation was all Wang Lin needed!

“Royal Clan treasure – Open the Furnace!” Ignoring his injuries, Wang Lin clasped his hands in a swift series of hand seals, and with a mighty heave, the Emperor’s Furnace began to rotate. A torrent of ancient energy erupted from within.

“Today, Wang shall refine you, a Third Step Grand Elder!” Wang Lin leaped forward and sat atop the vast cauldron, his hands gripping its rim. The nine-colored fire of his left eye surged forth, wrapping the entire furnace in its incandescent embrace.

The thunderous image in his right eye manifested again, unleashing a tempest of crackling lightning, which surged through his hand and into the furnace. Fire fueled the lightning, and lightning intensified the flames, unleashing a frenzy of alchemical refinement!

The sight struck terror into the hearts of the cultivators who had been forced back by the battle, but who still clung to any vantage point, loath to miss this once-in-an-eternity spectacle!

“To refine a Third Step Grand Elder?!”

Never before had such a feat been attempted. Was this the measure of the Third Young Emperor’s power?

“Inconceivable! Unbelievable! The Third Young Emperor is mad! Does he imagine he is brewing a mere elixir?”

A wave of astonished uproar, unprecedented in its intensity, crashed through the land.

Even the Ancient Vermillion Bird, known for his imperturbable demeanor, widened his eyes in disbelief. He had not expected Wang Lin to defeat Si Mozi, only to force a stalemate with his subtle aid, solidifying his power!

To fight a Third Step Grand Elder to a draw, while merely a Second Step cultivator, would be enough to shake the entire Primordial Age, despite his assistance and Si Mozi’s reluctance to use lethal arts. That, in itself, would be legend.

But Wang Lin aimed to refine Si Mozi! The sight caused the Ancient Vermillion Bird to gasp.

“Good! Truly, my Clan has birthed a gem! Whether he succeeds or fails, to even contemplate such a feat, to possess such audacity, makes this child a true hero!” The Ancient Vermillion Bird chuckled, his eyes filled with pride.

The sky was now dominated by the colossal cauldron, save for the seal of Incense upon the Ancient Leaf. Wang Lin sat atop it, channeling his energy and unleashing his fundamental powers, stoking the thunderous inferno within the Emperor’s Furnace to refine his prey!

A relic of the Ancient God Royal Clan, the Emperor’s Furnace possessed power that shook the heavens and the earth. Now wielded by Wang Lin, a scion of that clan, it unleashed its full might.

The ancient god stars between Wang Lin’s brow spun ever faster, and torrents of ancient god power flooded from his body, fueling the furnace!

Trapped within the cauldron, Si Mozi’s eyes darted about, surveying the chaotic scene. His face twisted in fury, for Wang Lin had outwitted him, trapping him within this strange prison.

“A mere cauldron dares to confine me?!” Si Mozi clasped his hands in a series of swift hand seals and thrust them forth.

His body became wreathed in violet energy, transforming his hands into two colossal purple limbs, which slammed against the walls of the furnace. Each strike unleashed a deafening roar, causing the entire cauldron to tremble!

Wang Lin, seated atop the cauldron, shuddered with each impact, his eyes gleaming with cold determination. He spat forth blood upon the vessel,

and closed his eyes, abandoning himself to the flow of power, continuing the relentless refinement!
“What sorcery is this?!” Si Mozi bellowed, unleashing torrents of his power within the Celestial Furnace. Yet, the resilience of the crucible was proving infuriating, his visage growing darker with each failed assault.

With every earth-shattering blow, a wave of searing heat intensified within the furnace’s belly, a suffocating inferno fueled by the chilling cries that echoed from every direction.

Si Mozi’s eyes gleamed with a sudden understanding. He peered intently, only to have his face contort in horror.

Swirling around him were countless spectral figures, each a colossal shade of ancient demons and monstrous entities. Their numbers were beyond reckoning, and their lamentations pierced Si Mozi’s very soul, constricting his pupils with dread.

The ethereal wraiths tightened their circle, their wails escalating into a deafening crescendo.

These were the souls of all those who had perished within the furnace’s fiery embrace throughout history.

The ancient demon spirit, once locked in a spectral dance with the crimson mist-shrouded silk, recoiled and merged seamlessly with the surrounding phantoms, becoming one with the tortured chorus.

The crimson mist contracted, revealing a woman of alabaster skin standing silently beside Si Mozi. Her features remained obscured, yet the flicker of tenderness in her eyes shone through with undeniable clarity.

Si Mozi wrenched his gaze away, fixing his cold stare above. “The whelp possesses a plethora of trinkets,” he hissed, “but if he believes he can imprison me, he vastly underestimates my power!” With a snort of disdain, he raised his right hand, slashing it through the air. “Seven-Hued Sky Piercers!” he roared. In that instant, twenty-nine beams of iridescent light erupted before him, bathing the furnace in their radiant glow. The ethereal souls recoiled from the sudden emergence of the multi-colored spikes, as if struck with primordial terror.

“Seven-Hued Piercers, rend this crucible asunder!” Si Mozi bellowed, his sleeves billowing. The twenty-nine beams of light surged forward with a thunderous roar, aimed at the furnace walls.

*Chronicle!*

A series of cataclysmic impacts reverberated throughout the heavens as the twenty-nine Sky Piercers struck the Celestial Furnace, driving deep into its resilient hide.

In the outside realm, Wang Lin’s eyes snapped open. Beneath him, the Celestial Furnace shuddered violently, and a series of wicked, colorful spines erupted from its surface.

Twenty-nine barbs, each radiating a spectrum of hues, threatened to tear the furnace apart.

Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed with frigid resolve. He raised his hand and made a sweeping gesture, conjuring a jade bottle within his palm.

*The Demon Bottle…*

Grasping the bottle tightly, Wang Lin bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of ancient god’s blood onto its surface. He chanted in a low, guttural tone, “In the name of my royal ancient god bloodline, I summon thirty thousand ancient demons! Aid me in this forge!”

A torrent of demonic energy erupted from the bottle’s mouth, and a colossal, snarling visage of a long-lost demon manifested. Devouring Wang Lin’s blood, the fiend lunged towards the Celestial Furnace.

Within the furnace, Si Mozi’s eyes blazed with mad fury. He roared and grasped at empty air, seizing a fragment of bone. The shard was small, barely three spans in length, and appeared unremarkable but for the unmistakable imprint of a hand upon it.

The palm print was embedded deep within the bone, so clear that even the intricate whorls of the palm lines were visible.

“A mere furnace? I shall show you how an elder like me can break it open!” This bone was a relic bestowed by the Honored Lord of the Palm, the palm imprint upon it a lingering trace of his divine power.

It contained the force of the Honored Lord’s palm!

Gazing upon the bone, Si Mozi’s eyes flickered with a moment of complex emotions. He raised his right hand, poised to align it with the palm print, but a mournful sigh echoed from behind him.

“Si Ma…take me home… won’t you?”

Si Mozi’s hand trembled, and his expression contorted in torment. The firefly-sized ember on his brow pulsed erratically.

“Let us return our power to him… let’s go home together… won’t we…”

At that moment, Wang Lin’s eyes shone with a peculiar light. He weaved arcane gestures, expelling a profound breath that settled upon the furnace in an invisible wave.

“The Dao Art of Dreams…” Wang Lin muttered. In his life, beyond the Flowing Moon of Remnants, he birthed only a single Dao Art of Dreams within the Celestial Void.