Upon the towering effigy, Wang Lin stood, his gaze sweeping across the heavens and earth. He beheld in the skies, streaks of celestial fire bearing familiar faces, each etched with unwavering resolve. The very air vibrated with cries of desperate courage, a symphony of sacrifice.

Among them were those dearest to Wang Lin: his disciple, Shisan; his loyal servant, Datou; his sworn brother, Situ Nan; and the venerable Nan Yunzi, alongside countless others he had known and encountered. Their eyes, thousands strong, locked upon Wang Lin, their united gaze forging a bond as strong as molten steel.

This fire, stoked by years of cultivation, had not dwindled. Rather, it lay dormant, like embers awaiting a breath. Now, with their realm teetering on the brink of destruction, it threatened to erupt in a furious inferno.

“With me, reclaim our lands!” Wang Lin roared, his sleeves billowing as he ascended from the statue towards the sky. His white robes shone like freshly fallen snow, a stark contrast to his wind-whipped silver hair, a beacon of light amidst the gathering darkness.

In a flash, Wang Lin became a streak of blinding light, his passage echoing through the heavens. He hurtled toward the star-strewn void, a solitary star blazing a trail for others to follow.

Behind him surged Situ Nan, Nan Yunzi, and the others, their cries joining the tempestuous roar, creating a symphony of defiance that shook the very foundations of the heavens. Then came the thousands of cultivators from within the Realm, silent yet resolute, summoning their powers to follow Wang Lin into the abyss.

It was a magnificent sight, a spectacle of countless comets erupting from the earth, imbued with an indomitable spirit, fueled by a desire to shatter the heavens, and driven by a fierce refusal to yield. They surged towards the stars, bursting from Suzaku Planet, and plunging into the cosmic ocean.

Led by the white-clad Wang Lin, they seemed capable of escaping the confines of the sky, of shattering the chains of this reality, and of venturing beyond the boundaries of this false world into the boundless unknown.

Wang Lin flew ahead, a majestic peacock leading its flock, his divine sense unfurling before him. His eyes, like chips of ice, burned with a chilling intent, radiating a celestial bloodlust that permeated the air.

He sought to kill. He would slaughter every interloper within the Realm, until the rivers ran red with their blood, until the heavens themselves wept. This burning desire had been dormant for far too long.

He remembered his greatest slaughter, when he annihilated the entire Teng family in Zhao. Now, two millennia later, that same savage impulse resurfaced in his heart.

This time, he fought for himself, but also for the Realm. Wang Lin was no hero, nor did he aspire to be one. He was simply a cultivator, caught in this era, swept up in this grand conflict.

He understood the weight of responsibility, the meaning of “Seal the Exalted.” He did not seek glory, but to break free, to shatter the heavens and escape this prison.

Anyone who stood in his way would face his wrath.

If the heavens barred his path, he would tear them down. If the earth impeded him, he would shatter it. If mortals dared to challenge him, they would die!

He was determined to shatter this world, to escape this confinement. The war against the invaders was merely the first step, for without achieving that, the dream of liberation would remain forever beyond his grasp.

Wang Lin surged forward, his thousands of followers in his wake, a tidal wave of power echoing through the cosmos. The thunderous roar reverberated throughout the universe, shaking the very fabric of reality.

In the Kunxu Starfield, the remnants of the invading forces, ravaged by Wang Lin’s earlier assault, scattered in disarray. But now, his divine sense blanketed the entire region, leaving them with nowhere to hide.

Hundreds of leagues ahead, a few dozen survivors, each branded with strange sigils upon their foreheads, fled in terror. They sought refuge in the Luo Tian Starfield, where the bulk of the invaders were now concentrated.

But before they could escape, they heard the deafening roar of their pursuers. Terror seized their hearts, driving them to flee with renewed desperation.

One young cultivator, his mind reeling, instinctively glanced back. Through the swirling void, he saw a flash of white, a figure hurtling towards them like a shooting star.

In that single, fleeting moment, the youth’s world turned black. He felt the cosmos itself spinning around him, and within that swirling abyss, he saw his fellow invaders fleeing in panic. And then, at the very back of the group, he saw a figure…headless.

He recognized that body. In a moment of agonizing clarity, his eyes widened in disbelief, his gaze shattered. All that remained was the spinning stars, now shrouded in darkness.

In that final, fading vision, he saw a figure in white robes, his silver hair dancing around him, his hand a blur as he moved forward.

The other invaders remained oblivious, unaware that one of their comrades had already fallen. Then, with a wave of his hand, Wang Lin unleashed a thunderous blast. Four more invaders cried out in agony as their heads flew from their shoulders, showering their companions in blood.

Only then did the survivors realize the truth. They turned to face their doom.

Wang Lin, a white blur of death, danced among them. With each swift strike, another head fell, and in less than three breaths, he emerged from the carnage, leaving behind a field of mangled corpses.

His white robes were unstained, his face impassive. Behind him lay dozens of staring eyes, frozen in eternal terror.

“These are not enough,” Wang Lin said, his voice quiet. He pressed onward. All the Kunxu survivors felt his presence and all of them fell.

His skill was to high, his history to bloody. Few could compare to the amount of death Wang Lin had caused.

Deep within the Kunxu Starfield, two cultivators, nearly identical, fled in blind terror, a pair of brothers, a rarity even in the world of cultivation.

They were known throughout the Tai Gu Star Domain for their brutal efficiency. Even a Third Sky Heaven Defying cultivator would have to yield before their combined power.

These brothers revelled in torturing enemies weaker than themselves. But now, they were like hunted dogs, desperately trying to escape the chilling aura that had locked onto them.

Slowly, inevitably, that aura solidified into a blade of death suspended above their heads, threatening to fall at any moment.

Driven to madness by the oppressive aura, they fled with a renewed frenzy.

But as they gave a desperate cry, a flash of white appeared behind them, a white blur of death slowly approaching.

His pace was measured, but each step propelled him faster than lightning. He was upon them, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. He lifted his hand, a blur of motion, and struck down one of the terrified brothers.

“Brother!” The other twin howled, abandoning all hope of escape. The brothers, orphaned at a young age, had been raised by wolves and were inseparable.

Later, they were adopted by a cultivator of the Wolf Clan and forged a cruel path forward. Today, they had become the prey.

Even as his anguished cry echoed through the void, a head flew, showering Wang Lin in blood. When the crimson mist cleared, the head spun through the air before landing.

“Brotherly devotion is admirable, but those who prey on my people must die,” Wang Lin said, his voice devoid of emotion. He took another step, leaving behind two more sightless skulls floating in the stars.

Wang Lin went across Kunxu Starfield, and every intruder was dead! There would be no living people left. His steps were bloodstained, and the sky he walked on was death.

Behind him, hundreds of severed heads, their souls trapped within, were dragged into the depths of hell.

“Too quiet…” Wang Lin murmured as he crossed from the Kunxu into the Zhaohe Starfield.