Wang Lin raised his head, his gaze piercing the heavens to fix upon the black-robed figure descending. How could he forget that visage? It was none other than the Palm Sovereign himself!

The First among the Five Sovereigns of the Ancient Star System, a being of immense intellect, a manipulator of fate!

Whether it was the slaying of the previous Sealed Sovereign, the destruction of the Four Immortal Realms, the scheming against Immortal Emperor Qing Shuang, the dispatch of the Rune Clan in search of Li Guang’s Arrow, the betrayal of Shui Daozi, the surrender of Si Mozi, or the demise of the Zhan Clan Ancestor – behind each event, behind each figure, the shadow of the Palm Sovereign loomed large!

Even amidst the celestial tapestry of the Ancient Star System, Wang Lin had sensed a subtle manipulation of his very soul. He now understood that it, too, must have been the Palm Sovereign’s doing.

Within Wang Lin’s memory, a certain spell, a certain arcane art, remained etched, unerasable: the Reflection of the Moon in the Well.

He had witnessed this sorcery upon a being suspected to be a fragment of the Palm Sovereign’s essence within the Fire Sparrow Clan. Now, amidst this Calamity of Sealing the Sovereign, as he beheld the earth transformed into the surface of a well, a chilling certainty gripped his heart. This, too, was likely a Reflection of the Moon in the Well!

The prize to be drawn forth? Zhu Que Star and Wang Lin himself!

“Reflection of the Moon in the Well…” Wang Lin rose from the illusory water, his countenance serene, his eyes fixed upon the sky.

The lone Immortal Consort, spared by the arrow’s wrath, stood bewildered between them, retreating a few paces into the silence.

“Had Lan Meng not favored you, you would have been a trinket in my grasp long ago, amidst the Ancient Star System,” the black-robed figure spoke, his voice a gravelly whisper that echoed through the air, a hint of amusement lacing his words. With a mere clench of his right hand, the arrow trembled and vanished into nothingness. He had hesitated thus far, wary of its potent power, waiting for Wang Lin to loose it before revealing himself.

The arrow, now bound to the bow within Wang Lin’s being, dissolved only to reappear, in a manner most arcane, within Wang Lin’s soul. Had Li Guang not met his end, the arrow would have returned to him in like fashion.

“Tell me, from whence springs your Immortal bloodline?” the black-robed figure questioned, his hands clasped behind his back as he descended from the celestial canvas toward Wang Lin. His pace was measured, yet each footfall sent tremors through Wang Lin’s very being, as if an immeasurable pressure, born of the void itself, converged upon him.

More unnerving still, the mirrored surface reflected another black-robed figure, mirroring the Palm Sovereign’s descent.

It was as if two Palm Sovereigns existed, one in the heavens, the other upon the earth.

The pressure doubled, crushing Wang Lin from above and below, draining the color from his face. His body, in that instant, became immobile, frozen as though by some binding enchantment.

Yet, his eyes remained pools of icy calm. Events had reached their zenith. Wang Lin understood that this trial, this tribulation, would be a difficult one to overcome. He had known this from the moment he drew the bow and loosed his arrow.

“You will not speak? No matter. I shall wrest the answer from your very essence,” the black-robed figure declared, shaking his head. With each step closer, his withered right hand rose, extending a single digit toward Wang Lin.

As the finger pointed, the azure sky abruptly surrendered all light, replaced by a golden radiance that blazed with blinding intensity. This golden light was the sun, radiating from a newly-formed, incandescent orb that hung in the heavens.

The sun’s sudden emergence cast an aura of primordial power, permeating the very air. In its blinding glare, the Palm Sovereign’s form darkened, a corona of light slowly encircling his black robes as he continued his advance.

“Aside from that arrow, you possess nothing that can hold back my shackles… In the beginning, there was light. That light is one of the primordial essences I have mastered, the very source of the Primeval Rules… Under the sway of the Primeval Force, your Ancient and Immortal natures shall be sundered!” The Palm Sovereign’s voice, ancient and resonant, echoed as the sun’s light coalesced into a radiant beam, engulfing Wang Lin entirely.

Against such overwhelming power, Wang Lin could offer no resistance. The light’s embrace brought forth a torrent of agonizing pain that surged through his body. The sun’s searing warmth, imbued with the familiar Primeval Force, burned away everything within him, including the lingering shades of souls past.

The Primeval Force was particularly virulent against these spectral remnants. With a chorus of agonizing wails, all the vestiges of past lives within Wang Lin’s being were obliterated in an instant.

Stripped of these souls, Wang Lin’s body, now exposed to the light’s destructive influence, crumbled before reforming. But even as it reformed, golden light pulsed violently within the new flesh, desperately trying to escape.

The agony of forced separation was far more intense than the initial fusion, contorting Wang Lin’s face in a mask of agony. Yet, he remained silent, his gaze locked upon the Palm Sovereign, burning into his memory every detail of this cataclysm, this life-and-death struggle.

If he were to be reborn, if he were to survive this day, he vowed to repay this torment tenfold, a hundredfold, a thousandfold, a millionfold!

He still possessed a trump card, a bronze shard, unused!

This shard, unpredictable as it might be, lay beyond his control. Yet, in this dire moment, Wang Lin cared not. He would wait, wait for the precise moment, for his opponent to draw closer, before unleashing this shard, this artifact that might just alter the course of destiny!

Unfazed by Wang Lin’s burning glare, the black-robed figure showed no visible reaction. He retracted his extended finger, slowly opening the rest of his hand, transforming it into a grasping claw. Having frozen Wang Lin’s form and begun the sundering of his Ancient and Immortal energies with the Primeval Force, he drew ever nearer. Finally, he raised his hand, reaching for Wang Lin.

“Reflection… of the Moon… in the Well!” As the black-robed figure acted, his reflection on the water’s surface moved in perfect synchronicity, reaching for Wang Lin with the same predatory intent.

He sought to draw forth the Immortal bloodline forcibly torn from Wang Lin’s being!

With each movement, a fresh wave of excruciating pain ripped through Wang Lin, a pain that threatened to break his stoic silence. Yet, he suppressed it, his face contorted with strain, blood vessels bulging in his eyes, his gaze locked on the Palm Sovereign.

“Just a little closer…”
A blinding surge of golden light erupted from Wang Lin’s very being, followed by a torrent of ethereal golden ichor seeping from every pore. Deep within his skeletal frame, in the marrow where blood and lineage held dominion, the very essence, the ichor of creation itself, yielded to the unseen force. It saturated his bones, escaping through the countless fissures and breaches that had scarred them.

In that agonizing instant, Wang Lin’s mortal blood sprayed forth, carrying with it the entirety of his inherited Celestial lineage, the boon granted by the Madman, now violently purged from his corporeal form.

Seen from afar, the spectacle was astounding. The golden blood, cast forth from Wang Lin’s body, coalesced into a humanoid form, an effigy of Wang Lin himself!

As though a soul split asunder, Wang Lin seemed to divide into two. The golden apparition slowly separated from his physical vessel, ascending seven spans above his head, connected by thinning strands of golden light.

As the golden doppelganger ascended, the Ancient God star-mark upon Wang Lin’s brow dulled, its golden radiance extinguished. Even the Ancient Demon star within his right eye lost its golden hue.

The black-robed figure’s eyes gleamed with predatory delight. With a savage upward sweep, the golden threads connecting the two forms snapped asunder. The Celestial lineage was utterly severed!

The golden apparition writhed, then solidified, transforming into a single, luminescent drop of blood, shimmering with celestial light.

Within this singular droplet pulsed the incomplete runes of the Immortal Body, the very essence of the Madman’s gift made manifest!

Now devoid of Celestial blood, Wang Lin’s body experienced no further rejection. He was returned, in essence, to the state before his fateful encounter with the Madman. A series of resounding cracks echoed from within as his flesh reaffirmed its Ancient God nature.

“The Immortal Celestial Body… it truly *is* the Immortal Celestial Body… from whence did you obtain it?!” The black-robed figure, his eyes fixated upon the golden droplet floating above Wang Lin’s head, was consumed by fervent zeal, yet that zeal was tempered by profound apprehension.

The Sovereign, rarely shaken from his composure, was now visibly agitated, a state induced solely by this celestial blood. He knew all that Wang Lin had been, but the secrets of the Netherbeast’s belly remained shrouded from him.

In a moment of unveiled emotion, the Sovereign strode forward, his right hand outstretched to seize the golden blood.

But in that instant, Wang Lin’s eyes blazed with icy resolve. He bit his tongue, expelling a mouthful of Ancient Dao blood. The blood, upon leaving his lips, transformed into a crimson blade, cleaving open a rift to his storage dimension. From within emerged a colossal, obsidian edifice!

As the tower materialized, twilight engulfed the heavens. Wang Lin’s Ancient Dao blood splattered upon one of its three sealed windows, staining it crimson.

“In the name of I, Wang Lin, Scion of the Ancient Dao, I release thy seal, grant thee freedom, and command thee to aid me in slaying this foe!” With his current cultivation, Wang Lin could only open a single window, releasing but one of the supreme souls imprisoned within by Ye Mo!

As his words rang out and the blood struck the window, the obsidian portal shuddered violently. A deafening cacophony of fracturing stone reverberated through the air as the window shattered. A savage roar, laced with unrestrained glee, erupted from the shattered portal.

“Damned Ye Mo! You imprisoned the Crimson Soul for endless eons! Today, I am free!” Accompanied by the thunderous pronouncement, a crimson blur shot forth from the shattered window. Its form was indistinct, a mere mass of blood. As it emerged, an aura of unimaginable power swelled.

The Sovereign, too close for comfort, was struck by the crimson apparition, hurled back dozens of paces. His hood fell back, revealing the visage hidden beneath.

The crimson form, with a mirthless laugh, spared neither Wang Lin nor the Sovereign a glance. With a swift motion, it lunged toward the ashen-faced Celestial Consort. It enveloped her in a crimson embrace. Her body dissolved, consumed by the blood, leaving naught but oblivion.

The crimson shade roared with laughter, soaring into the heavens. It slammed against the azure sky, which flickered and shattered, revealing a gaping rift. Through the rift, the crimson shade vanished.

Far away, upon the true Vermillion Bird Star, within a mortal city, the Madman, a greasy chicken leg clutched in his hand, sat amongst a huddle of beggars. Beneath their envious gazes, he took a hearty bite, then stared vacantly into the sky.

“Damn him, he’s not here…he’s abandoned this King…No! I must find him! He cannot abandon me…Huh?”