The Will, a tempestuous surge from the heart of a collapsing vortex, hurtled towards Wang Lin. It crashed against his righteous aura, staining his face with a fleeting pallor, yet he stood unyielding, his gaze unwavering upon the swirling abyss.

This emanation from the vortex possessed no physical form, yet carried a crushing dominion. Beneath its oppressive weight, all life was meant to bend, to submit. To resist was to invite the annihilation of flesh, the shattering of spirit, the unraveling of one’s very path.

Yet, this imposition found no purchase on Wang Lin. His aura, woven from the threads of Confucian righteousness, illuminated the heavens and the earth. It beheld all creation as equal, as motes of dust. Thus, it stood unbowed, a direct counter to the encroaching Will.

And in that instant, within the sanctum of Wang Lin’s mind, the celestial pearl, the Tian Ni, stirred. It spun wildly, as if awakening from a slumber, greedily devouring the essence of the Will.

The moment the Will grazed against Wang Lin, it recoiled, withdrawing into the vortex. As it retreated, the Tian Ni ceased its frantic dance.

With the Will’s withdrawal, a voice, ancient and weary, echoed in Wang Lin’s ears, “All things are born of Me. To Me, you shall return…” As the words faded, a power beyond imagining, the strange strength of the Empty Gate, surged forth, pouring into the ancient god’s bracer. In a heartbeat, the fragmented artifact was whole once more.

Wang Lin’s hand shot out, plucking from his rift-worn storage a tattered banner. This banner, more than any other save the Tian Ni, held the deepest meaning for Wang Lin.

It was called the Banner of Ten Billion Souls!

This relic had been a gift from Duntian in his youth, a portion of which he had left with Thirteen. Only this shattered remnant remained in his possession. But now, steeped in the power of the Empty Gate, the banner pulsed with raw, untamed energy.

As the Banner of Ten Billion Souls mended, the power of the Empty Gate swiftly receded, vanishing into the fabric of reality.

The Empty Gate’s vortex dissolved. Wang Lin stood in the void, his white hair dancing around him. Flame flickered in his left eye, and lightning marked his right. Upon his brow, beyond the ancient god’s star, three vertical lines were etched.

The center line was the mark of Karma. The left, of Life and Death. The right, of Truth and Illusion.

And the essence of Slaughter, it lay woven within his very soul.

Third Step! He had truly crossed into the mid-stage of the Empyrean Expanse. He had ascended into the ranks of the Celestial Grandees! Closing his eyes, Wang Lin silently studied his own being. After what felt like an eternity, he opened them again. In the palm of his right hand, he saw it – an unfamiliar sigil had appeared.

He knew this pattern. It was the Sixth Gate, the Gate of Ten Thousand Empty Bones, which he had blasted open.

This Gate of Empty Bones, like a living tattoo, coalesced slowly within Wang Lin’s palm, imprinting itself there permanently. As he studied it, from the direction of Vermillion Bird Star, the thousands of cultivators soared forth to greet him. Nan Yunzi and Situ Nan led the vanguard. Yet Nan Yunzi’s brow was furrowed with concern, his gaze darting towards the distant void, towards a muffled roar that stirred a chilling premonition within him.

At that moment, the distant roar grew more insistent, more furious. Wang Lin looked up, his eyes burning with anticipation. He would face the Tribulation. He would see how this trial measured against those that had come before!

“Situ, we shall meet again shortly. The Heavenly Tribulation descends! Once I shatter it, we shall feast together!”

“So, it is the Tribulation!” Nan Yunzi’s eyes narrowed. He halted in the void, sweeping out his sleeve, stopping the throng behind him.

“The Venerated One faces a Tribulation of Ascension. We shall guard the perimeter!” Nan Yunzi’s voice echoed, reaching all within range. The thousands of cultivators from the Realm within the Realm halted, falling back.

Situ Nan stared towards Wang Lin in the void, his eyes clouded with worry.

“Tribulation… I faced no Tribulation when I shattered the Gate of the Empty Bones. Wang Lin…” Situ Nan turned to Nan Yunzi, seeing the same apprehension mirrored in his face.

“The Venerated One has cultivated a path of defiance, a path of Rebellion. Thus, the legends say that a Tribulation will descend upon those who ascend through Rebellion. I have only witnessed it a few times in my long life. So, the Venerated One is a Rebel…” Nan Yunzi fixed his gaze upon the distant reaches of the cosmos. He saw it there – a mass of roiling mist, driven forward by a thunderous roar, like a tidal wave crashing against the shores of the void.

The mist coalesced into a single, boundless entity, drawing closer and closer. Before the thousands of cultivators could retreat ten breaths, the muffled roar had become a deafening cacophony. Some of the cultivators within the Realm, those of weaker constitution, were struck with nosebleeds, their faces contorted in terror as they fell back. In moments, the rolling, all-consuming mist from the distant void enveloped Wang Lin, swallowing him whole within the sight of the thousands who watched.

At that moment, an indescribable celestial force surged forth like countless invisible hands. The rolling mist emanated a wave that swept outwards.

The thousands of cultivators within the Realm, including even Nan Yunzi and Situ Nan, were forced back by the immense power. A thousand fathoms, ten thousand, a hundred leagues, ten thousand…

The roar was deafening. As the mist rolled and dispersed, even Vermillion Bird Star, which had remained on its course since time immemorial, was thrust from its orbit, drifting into the void.

From afar, the scene was awe-inspiring. As the mist expanded, it engulfed a million leagues of the void. Within that mist, only Wang Lin remained. No other cultivators, no other cultivation stars.

A million leagues of mist, containing only Wang Lin!

Staring upon this unbelievable spectacle, the cultivators within the Realm were filled with dread. Situ Nan, especially, stared at the swirling mist, his face grim. He longed to help, but the repelling force emanating from the Tribulation made it clear – none but the one facing it could draw within half a step.

All of it fell upon Wang Lin alone.
“That cursed renegade, Feng Zun,” Nanyun Zi muttered, whether to himself or to Situ and the others, none could say. “Should he survive this Heavenly Tribulation, his cultivation will be as iron forged in starlight. He possesses the very power of creation and destruction; he will surely challenge the ranks of our most venerable ascendants!”

Silence descended upon the group like a shroud.

Farther away, beyond the swirling mists that veiled a hundred leagues, a figure emerged from the starlit void. It was an old man, robed in violet, his face etched with deep lines of concern. His gaze, sharp and knowing, pierced the churning vapors.

“Such potent arrow-qi!” he exclaimed under his breath. “He has found it… that ancient bow! When I first encountered him, his cultivation was not yet of the Third Step. And now… six Daos of Origin reside within him!”

The old man continued, his voice laced with wonder and a hint of apprehension. “Six Daos of Origin! One alone is enough to forge a Great Power. But with all six unified… that boy has surpassed Empty Nirvana and reached the Middle Stage of Empty Spirit! With such power, and that legendary arrow…”

This was none other than Zhan Laogui, the Old Ghost of Battle. After a moment of heavy contemplation, his gaze at the mist took on a strange, almost unsettling cast.

“The Myriad Empty Bone Gate…” Zhan Laogui murmured, lowering his head to examine his right hand. There, upon his palm, barely visible amidst swirling energies, was a sigil – the image of a gate. A gate identical to the one that marked Wang Lin’s own hand: the Myriad Empty Bone Gate!

“Could he… could he be the third?” Zhan Laogui frowned, his weathered brow furrowed in deep thought.

Meanwhile, deep within the Tai Gu Star Domain, a colossal palace of obsidian drifted silently through the inky void, blending seamlessly with the surrounding darkness. Within its echoing halls, countless candle stands flickered with dim, uncertain light, barely piercing the gloom.

At the center of the palace stood a well. Beside it, bathed in the faint glow, was a figure cloaked in darkness – the venerable Palm Sovereign himself, a name well known to Wang Lin.

He stared down into the depths of the well, his expression unreadable. After an eternity of silence, he raised a withered hand and extinguished a nearby candle. The flame vanished in a wisp of smoke, and the Black-robed figure was plunged into an all-encompassing darkness.

“Why is he so difficult to kill?” a rasping voice hissed from the gloom, thick with a barely contained panic. “First, Blue Dream intervened… then, what should have been a fatal trap was foiled by…by master himself!

Master has lost himself, how can his personality save Wang Chi…” The voice grew increasingly frantic, as though the speaker were on the verge of losing control.

“That Li Guang Bow and Arrow… master must have used his own blood to allow Wang Lin to wield them without rejection… Master… no, no, he is mad now, but when his memories return… he will surely punish me! But when that will occur? He who swallowed by Heaven… What could I do but surrender to Seven-Colored?” The black-robed figure trembled, finally erupting in a silent roar that shook the empty hall.

Within the Zhao He Starfield, a region now overrun by invaders from beyond the stars, a lone white-haired old man sat meditating within a hollowed-out asteroid. His appearance was that of a celestial immortal, save for a disturbing crimson dot on his brow. Slowly, he opened his eyes and raised his right hand before him, performing subtle calculations. A strange light flickered within his eyes.

“Wang Lin,” he whispered, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Finally entering the Third Step. The grand scheme I have woven for millennia is about to begin… I have waited so very long for this day… my disciple, do not disappoint your master.” He seemed the very embodiment of serenity, as if the fate of the cosmos lay firmly in his grasp.

This was none other than Tian Yunzi, the vanished prodigy of Heaven’s Choice!

Back in the Kun Xu Starfield, amidst the million-league expanse of churning mist, Wang Lin stood alone, his face calm, his hands clasped behind his back. He gazed upward into the roiling clouds.

Above him, the mists swirled with increasing intensity, like the gaping maw of some cosmic beast. Tendrils of silver lightning snaked through the vortex.

“I have but one question,” Wang Lin declared, his voice ringing with power. “By what right does the Heavens presume to judge me? Today, I am not merely the subject of a tribulation; I shall deliver one myself!” He raised his right hand and swept it upward.

“Lightning Tribulation! By the name of Wang Lin, I command you: Arise!”