Beyond the hallowed halls, Tosen, blind to the drama unfolding within, had shattered the ancient wards guarding the palace. He forced his way through, but before his eyes could adjust, a colossal form descended – the corpse of a primeval god, hurtling through the air.

Too swift to evade, Tosen could only brace himself, his own formidable nine-star god-flesh his sole defense. Yet, the impact was like nothing he had ever known. A titanic force surged into him, shattering the bones of his right arm with a deafening crack. He was flung backward, a crimson spray marking his path as he glimpsed, through the rent in the wards, Wang Lin upon the stone throne.

Tosen’s sacrifice had bought Wang Lin passage through the seventeenth breath. The seventh star upon his brow swirled, nearing completion, straining toward that final, pivotal step.

The dreaded eighteenth breath was upon them!

Slammed by the ancient corpse, Tosen, amidst his pain, saw it clearly: the seventh star struggling to be born upon Wang Lin’s brow. None knew better than Tosen the power of Wang Lin’s god-blood. In that instant, realization dawned – Wang Lin was undergoing a sacred inheritance, one that Tosen believed was rightfully his!

“You stole my inherited memories! Now you would seize the Dao-God’s legacy as well?!” Tosen roared, his eyes burning with fury. As the eighteenth breath descended, he charged forward, heedless of his grievous wounds.

With blinding speed, he neared the shattered wards, ready to reclaim what he believed was his!

But the eighteenth breath unleashed a backlash of immeasurable power within the throne room. The force swept over Wang Lin, fracturing his being. His waist shattered, the destruction raced up his torso, splintering bone and rending flesh.

His remaining left arm screamed in protest, poised on the edge of collapse. In a final, desperate act, Wang Lin, driven to madness, pressed his left hand to his brow. Twenty ancient leaf-seals shimmered into existence and, with a sweep of his failing limb, shot forward in a flurry of obsidian light.

His last act completed, his left arm crumbled into a spray of blood and sinew.

“Seal! Spirit-Born, Zhou Jin, stop him!”

The ancient leaves flew with impossible speed, sealing the breach in the wards just as Tosen was about to cross. His body slammed against them.

Yet Tosen’s strength, which had overcome the very barriers of the Sealed Realm, was not to be denied. Even as the leaves sealed, his right fist hammered out.

The heavens shook with the force of the blow. Three of the ancient leaves shattered into dust. Tosen’s hand tore through the wreckage, reaching out to rip the remaining seals asunder!

Spirit-Born, gritting his teeth, launched himself forward, despite his injuries. With a sweeping gesture, he unleashed the Violet Sea of Dripping Heavens, a churning ocean of endless incense souls, crashing forward in a colossal wave!

The towering wolf-man, Zhou Jin, followed suit, arms whirling, howling, “Wolves Kneel to the Moon!”

Instantly, phantom wolves materialized around Zhou Jin, their numbers swelling to hundreds of thousands, a writhing mass that filled the sky. Above, a blood-red moon appeared out of thin air!

The ethereal wolves raised their heads and emitted a mournful howl, then one by one, leapt upward, transforming into wisps of lupine smoke that surged toward the crimson moon!

The sky filled with the rising fumes. The blood moon absorbed the essence of the countless wolves and then plummeted downward, aimed directly at Tosen’s outstretched fist!

Two Void Nirvana cultivators, each with a mere three steps into their cultivation, unleashed their ultimate techniques, channeling a wave of annihilation toward Tosen!

The Violet Sea of Incense crashed against Tosen’s fist, and in that same instant, the blood moon slammed into him. Forced to yield, Tosen retreated his hand!

But even as he pulled back, Tosen’s head punched through the gap in the ancient leaves, unleashing a roar that shook the entire palace.

The Roar of a God!

The sound, like thunder, reverberated through the palace, deafening those within. The power of the ancient gods infused the roar, creating a tempest of madness and destruction. Spirit-Born was blasted backward, spewing blood as his Violet Sea crumbled. He was left utterly spent!

Zhou Jin’s blood moon contorted and buckled under the force of the roar, filled with the shrieks of the spectral wolves as they collapsed and faded. In moments, the moon itself shattered, its power extinguished!

Zhou Jin paled, his chest caved inward, and he plummeted to the ground in a spray of blood.

The storm unleashed by the Roar of a God swept through the palace, obliterating the bodies of countless cultivators, turning eight outright to ash. Even the eight colossal dragons dissolved.

Only half of the ancient corpses of the three elder races remained intact, withstanding the destructive force of the roar.

Tosen had succumbed to madness!

As his roar had declared, Wang Lin had stolen his inherited memories, and now sought to claim the Dao-God’s inheritance as well. He would stop at nothing, even at the cost of grievous injury, to reclaim what he believed was his!

With Spirit-Born and Zhou Jin unable to impede him, Tosen thrust both arms into the gap in the ancient leaves, tearing outward with savage fury, ready to burst into the throne room!

All of this transpired with blinding speed!

Within the throne room, Wang Lin’s body, now petrified upon the throne, continued to crumble under the increased backlash of the eighteenth breath. His chest and left arm vanished in an instant!

Only his head remained, hovering above the throne, held by the sheer force of his will. But the destruction did not cease. The eighteenth breath stretched out, unending in its torment.

Cracks appeared on Wang Lin’s face, splitting apart, exploding outwards. His lips, nose, eyes – all were lost in an instant.
Only the six stellar points between his brows spun with frantic speed, a desperate dance against the encroaching oblivion that threatened to consume even the ancient god’s essence hidden within Wang Lin!

Then, a blinding light erupted from where the seventh star should have been, and a tide of primordial power, a force befitting an ancient god, surged forth from its nascent form!

With that explosion of raw energy, the seventh star, once a mere phantom, solidified in an instant. It completed its ascension, its manifestation, its *existence*!

The moment the seventh star appeared, the spinning of the other six faltered, slowing as the seven stars aligned into a vortex, completing a single, deliberate revolution!

A surge of ancient god power, immeasurably greater than that commanded by Wang Lin’s former six-star self, thundered forth, channeled by the seven stars, and plunged downwards. From the space between his brows, Wang Lin’s head rematerialized: closed eyes, nose, and lips solidifying into being!

As the complete head reformed, reborn from nothingness, the seven stars spun a second, deliberate rotation!

Neck, chest, abdomen, arms – Wang Lin’s entire upper body coalesced, bone forming first, followed by flesh and internal organs!

Each sinew pulsed with ancient god power, each bone resonated with the echoes of forgotten epochs!

As the stars above his brow spun a third time, his lower body crashed into existence. This newly wrought vessel was no mere few hundred feet tall but stood as a colossal titan, a *thousand* feet in height!

A thousand-foot ancient god!

A seven-star ancient god!

A thousand-foot, royal-blooded, seven-star ancient god!

Wang Lin’s eyes snapped open. He remained seated upon the chair, never having left his place!

The seven stars upon his brow, slowing moments before, now spun with unrestrained fury. Ancient god power flowed through his form, and Wang Lin felt as though he could shatter a world with a single blow!

In that instant, the Xuanwu’s most potent strike, passed down through generations of Vermillion Birds on the Emperor Star, washed over him, granting him profound insight into the very essence of power!

But it did not end there. From within the chair, a torrent of ancestral techniques surged forth. Like fragments of shattered memories, these powers rushed into Wang Lin’s mind, imprinting themselves upon his very being!

Furthermore, perhaps because Wang Lin had been seated upon the chair for eighteen breaths, the instant his seven-star body reformed, his spirit formed an inexplicable bond with the ancient seat.

It was a bizarre connection, its origins unknown, and Wang Lin had no time to ponder it.

Because of this bond, the chair transformed into a tomb, and Wang Lin, seated upon it, was gifted a vision of the entire third level of the ancient tomb!

His spirit, amplified beyond comprehension by the chair, perceived a will within the tomb – the will of the tomb itself, a lingering echo of the Dao Ancient, Ye Mo!

As his spirit expanded, it merged with that will and swept out of the palace with overwhelming force.

It first encountered Tuo Sen. The giant’s roar died in his throat, and his frame shuddered, his eyes widening in horror!

Within the ninth map, the woman with the amorous eyes, her face now grim, strode forward. She manipulated the restraints binding Tuo Sen, restraints that now, for unknown reasons, weakened, leaving her unnerved.

“Damn him! The tiny ancient god beat me here. But I have Tuo Sen. All is not lost… But why are the restraints loosening?” she muttered, her brow furrowed in thought as she walked.

Suddenly, she stopped. Before her, the spatial rifts that riddled the ninth map scattered like leaves before a hurricane. She looked up, her face twisting in alarm. She felt it, a spirit so powerful it made her tremble, brushing past her in that instant!

The strength of this spirit left her mind reeling, stunned into silence before she could recover. Her eyes widened in terror.

“What… what was that spirit?! Has the Dao Ancient, Ye Mo, survived the Celestial Sovereign?!”