The spell, “Spear of Seven Hues,” had been unleashed by a madman. Though Wang Lin knew the incantations and sigils by heart, his understanding remained incomplete, and he could not summon it forth.

Yet he knew its power, a cataclysmic force capable of rending the very heavens, akin to the Ancient Parasol of World-Burning – both divine powers that did not belong to this realm.

Before the Spear, all faded from Wang Lin’s vision, leaving only an endless expanse of seven colors. Despair filled his eyes, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as the chilling breath of death enveloped him.

He understood, he could not dodge, he could not flee, he could not withstand… This final Spear of Seven Hues was the true trial of life and death.

Before him, a vision arose: the tumultuous storm clouds he had witnessed upon the mountain, the torrential rain, and before that rapidly approaching, monstrous storm, a lone, helpless white bird.

In that instant, the image of the bird crystallized in his mind – its eyes filled with despair, with defiance, with struggle, before it was consumed and swallowed whole by the gaping maw of the storm.

*The Trial of Life and Death… the bird was but a harbinger.*

The heavens were swathed in seven colors, and the Spear of Seven Hues, forged from that iridescent light, howled closer and closer. Bitterly, Wang Lin realized this trial would likely be his last.

“Father… Mother… Iron Pillar is weary… May I join you?” A look of release replaced the despair in Wang Lin’s eyes.

He was so very weary. He longed to rest, to close his eyes, to live the life of a mortal, untouched by the constant threat of death, free from the struggle against fate, and without the pain of his parents, black hair turned white, weeping before his grave.

He wished he knew nothing… knew nothing of cultivators on Vermillion Bird Star, knew nothing of the countless cultivation nations beyond Zhao, knew nothing of the Vermillion Bird sealed within the Alliance Star System…

He did not wish to know of the starfields beyond Vermillion Bird Star, of the countless cultivation stars like it, or even those that surpassed it. He did not wish to know of the Cultivation Alliance that governed it all, nor that the Alliance was but a part of the Kunxu Star Region…

He wished not to know that beyond the Kunxu Star Region lay Luotian, the Sea of Clouds, and Zhaohua…

He did not wish to know that all of this was merely within the Realm, and beyond lay other heavens and earth, the Outer Realm known as the Primordial Star…

And as he journeyed, Wang Lin dimly realized, beyond all of this, there was still… there was still…

“It ends… release… Wan’er, forgive me… I lack the strength to awaken you… Ping’er… forgive me… Your father has tried…” With a bitter sigh, Wang Lin closed his eyes.

All these thoughts raced through his mind in the instant the Spear of Seven Hues drew near, his final thoughts before death.

As his eyes closed, the fabric of his tunic shattered, and a deep cavity formed in his chest, flesh tearing and twisting. His features, too, began to crumble…

Dust to dust…

With his eyes shut, and the Spear of Seven Hues but a few dozen spans away, images of warmth and love flooded Wang Lin’s mind…

In the courtyard, his father, having taken a puff from his pipe, set it aside and meticulously carved a small wooden figurine. A smile graced his lips, a gift for Iron Pillar’s seventh birthday.

Wang Lin knelt beside his father, hands propping up his chin, his eyes shining with excitement as he watched the figurine take shape. In his eyes, his father was all-powerful, his father was his world, his father could do anything.

Nearby, his mother scattered feed from a winnowing basket, surrounded by chickens and ducks, glancing back at father and son with a gentle, loving smile.

The image faded, breaking into countless fragments, which then reassembled into a tranquil valley shrouded in verdant foliage.

Within the valley stood a wooden hut. Li Muwan sat before it, her raven hair arranged in a matronly style, her beautiful face radiant with happiness. She gazed tenderly at the man before her, whom she had waited long and hard for. And now she could be content just seeing him, even till the end of time.

Her hands gently caressed the strings of the zither before her, weaving a melody of soft and soothing notes.

As the music swirled around them, Wang Lin, like his father of old, held a piece of wood, lovingly carving it as he gazed at Li Muwan.

Their eyes met, and an unspoken understanding filled the valley, a moment unforgettable.

That image dissolved, splintering and reforming into a towering mountain. Atop its peak stood Wang Lin, his figure radiating solitude and loss.

He gazed into the distance, his expression harboring a deep sorrow. Though hidden, it emanated from his very posture, reaching the young boy standing behind him.

The boy wore roughspun clothes. Though the mountain winds howled, they seemed to soften when they reached him, as his father was like a mountain that held up his very sky. With his father, he did not fear the mountain’s height, nor the wind’s frenzied dance through the trees.

With his father, he feared nothing.

“Father, Ping’er will be with you for eternity, and we shall never part…” the boy said softly, his eyes fixed on his father’s back.

The final image in his mind shattered, and with it, Wang Lin’s body began to break. The Spear of Seven Hues roared towards him, closer and closer.

But then, from the heavens, from within the gaping hole swallowed by the blue radiance, a voice suddenly echoed.

“Eh?”
The voice erupted without warning, piercing even the cerulean barrier. Clear as a bell, it echoed across the fractured lands. At that single syllable, the Grandmaster, a figure seemingly immune to the wrath of the heavens, visibly reeled. A look of utter, primal terror, one he’d shielded for ages, now twisted his ageless features.

Not even the arrival of the Crimson Wraith had elicited such a response. But this… this single word shattered his composure, sending him stumbling back, his eyes wide with disbelief and a stark, undeniable fear.

“KAH!”

Then, from within the luminous cerulean curtain, cackling madly, emerged a figure. A lunatic, clutching a half-eaten drumstick, his eyes gleamed with manic glee. “Finally found you! You abandoned me, you cur! I’ll not stand for it!” He strode forth, leaving the azure light behind.

As the madman stepped fully into view, a radiant aura of purest gold blazed from his form.

The Grandmaster’s face contorted. His legendary self-control, honed over millennia, crumbled to dust.

“M…Mas…” The word died in his throat, a whisper of utter despair. His face drained of all color as he beheld the madman.

The lunatic, mid-rant, caught sight of Wang Lin, his eyes closed, encircled by a swirling, iridescent rainbow. A blast shook the very ground.

He roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated fury, heedless of the Grandmaster. Bathed in golden light, he launched himself toward the swirling, chaotic energy.

“You can’t die! You haven’t played with me yet! You promised to show me the stars!” His shriek was laced with madness as he plunged into the rainbow aura, throwing his arms around Wang Lin’s fading form.

The rainbow spears, forged of annihilation itself, unleashed their power. As the madman embraced Wang Lin, the destructive forces detonated, amplified sevenfold, with each successive blast.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!* The echoes ripped across the heavens, each louder than the last. The sky itself tore asunder, collapsing into ruin.

The waters below erupted in a cataclysmic geyser. The sealed realm shattered, its pieces flung outward in a swirling vortex of destruction.

This maelstrom cleaved through reality, rending the very fabric of the cosmos. A gaping maw, a black hole of terrifying size, yawned into existence.

The madman, blessed with the complete Immortal Physique, withstood the destruction, his body reforming as fast as it was torn apart. Clutching the unconscious Wang Lin, they were sucked into the event horizon, swallowed by the abyss, and vanished.

In the wake of the storm, as the illusionary world dissolved, the Grandmaster remained, a spectral remnant. He gazed blankly at the vanished black hole, his voice a mere croak.

“He… he truly is mad… Utterly mad… The Immortal Physique… he must have bestowed it upon Wang Lin. He would never have done this if he were sane… Never have risked himself to save another. He’s… lost his mind… He doesn’t even recognize me…” He seemed to exhale a lifetime of pent-up tension, fading into nothingness.

But as he dissolved, a figure emerged from the shadows, silent as a wraith: the old battle spirit. With a swift gesture, he thrust a finger at the Grandmaster’s dissolving form.

The Grandmaster started, too late to react, his guard was down. A choked cry escaped his lips as his form shattered into oblivion.

The old battle spirit scowled, his eyes narrowed, staring at the point where the black hole had briefly existed. This sealed realm, forged by the united power of ancient star-lords, even for him, despite the guiding resonance of the void, was a challenge to traverse, a moment too long.

“A step too late. The blood of the Immortal Physique… the madman himself… Could it be the one from his memories…? I never imagined he would lose himself this completely… Consumed by the black hole… The aura emanating from it… the boundary between realms… A single step from Immortality to this… ” He shook his head, and turned away into the gloom.