In the instant Wang Lin’s form vanished, the colossal cauldron wreathed in sable miasma stirred. The dark energy coiled and writhed, taking on the semblance of ravenous black dragons roaring and hissing around its rim.

Waves of obsidian emanated from the great vessel, rippling outwards. As they spread, the very fabric of this realm contorted, giving rise to myriad phantasmal echoes.

Upon the cauldron’s obsidian surface, a face began to coalesce, immense in scale, dominating nearly half of its front. Though features were indistinct, it was unmistakably, hauntingly, Wang Lin’s.

This cauldron, the very heart of the grotto-heaven, possessed arcane properties. All who entered would find their visages etched upon its surface, as if their souls were sealed within.

The moment Wang Lin plunged into the cauldron, a dim, boundless realm unfolded before him. It stretched out seemingly without end, yet possessed a peculiar illusion of being traversable with a single stride.

Within this entire world stood but one thing: a colossal golden blossom. Its roots grasped the earth, its petals reached for the heavens. Now in full bloom, it permeated all of creation.

The blossom was simple, adorned with only five petals. It exuded no fragrance, yet gazing upon it brought a disquieting sensation, as if the flower did not exist at all.

Upon the immense flower rested droplets of dew, precisely three hundred in number. These gleaming orbs shimmered with an ethereal, dreamlike quality.

Wang Lin stood suspended in the air, facing the blossom. His expression was serene. Within him stirred the third soul, not fully integrated, yet granting him fragments of memory, including knowledge of this grotto-heaven’s core.

“This must be the Three Hundred Fragmented Realms…” he murmured.

The memory of the Seven-Colored Third Soul revealed this place to be Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate’s secluded retreat. According to his design, should this place be sealed, it would automatically activate its defenses, preventing all entry.

However, the death of the Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate, the intrusion of Lian Daofei, and the betrayal of the Seven Dao Sect disciples and the Immortal Consort had severely weakened and altered these defenses.

It was these discrepancies that troubled Wang Lin. Yet, seeing the golden blossom and the three hundred dewdrops, he felt a breath of relief escape him.

“It seems the First Blossom remains as the Third Soul remembered. There have been no changes.”

Wang Lin had only learned of the Three Hundred Fragmented Realms after acquiring the Third Soul. When Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate created this grotto-heaven realm, he had failed three hundred times!

Each failure still resulted in a creation, a world incomplete and lacking essential elements. Thus, Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate never chose them, until he crafted the three hundred and first realm, the current grotto-heaven.

Unwilling to discard the three hundred failed attempts, Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate refined them into the defensive forces guarding his retreat, transmuting them into these three hundred droplets of dew! Within some of these realms, had the Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate lived, he could have sat within the cauldron, his divine sense permeating the three hundred realms, altering their established laws.

Each droplet was a world!

“Since the Three Hundred Fragmented Realms within this First Blossom remain, I must slightly adjust my plans. I can use this place as a hunting ground!”

“The Seven-Colored Daoist and Zhan Laogui are currently beyond my grasp, but I am confident I can slay some of the others with the aid of these three hundred fragmented realms…”

“The more I kill, the greater my strength in the final battle against the other two souls!” Wang Lin’s eyes flashed. Within the Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate’s grotto-heaven, hidden deep within his Third Soul, lay a secret.

This secret was unknown to all outsiders. Not even the Seven-Colored Daoist and Zhan Laogui, with their incomplete memories, or the Immortal Consort and the Four Great War Generals, knew of this ultimate gambit, left behind by Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate within his grotto-heaven!

Had Lian Daofei not arrived so unexpectedly, and had the Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate not been so severely wounded in his retreat, he would have activated this gambit, rather than resorting to the Heavenly Dao Devourment. The outcome of that battle would have been different.

It was because of this secret that Wang Lin was confident in hunting within the grotto-heaven! And to activate the gambit, sufficient bloodshed was needed here!

“Three Hundred Fragmented Realms, most intriguing!” Wang Lin’s eyes glinted. He rose and stepped forward, instantly nearing the colossal blossom, and stepping within one of the dewdrops.

Ripples spread across the dewdrop’s surface, like a forming vortex. As Wang Lin’s form vanished within, it slowly calmed… The dewdrop seemed small, yet entering it revealed a different world. The dewdrop acted as a portal to an infinitely large sky, and even with preparation, Wang Lin’s mind still trembled when his vision cleared.

He stood within a desolate cosmos!

Star clouds filled this bright and beautiful expanse, and silence was everywhere. No signs of life were here.

As Wang Lin’s divine sense unfurled, it enveloped the cosmos.

In size, it resembled the ancient Kun Xu. It was not too large, and there were not many cultivation stars, only nine. They held no life, no people, and no objects!

Wang Lin knew from the Third Soul that the Three Hundred Fragmented Realms could be broadly categorized into three types: the first contained immortal beasts brought by Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate from the Immortal Astral Continent, some of which had died, while others had mutated into powerful entities over the ages.

The second type held mortals captured by Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate from the Immortal Astral Continent. He allowed them to procreate here, hoping to observe them and uncover the secrets of the Heavenly Dao.

The third type was barren, devoid of life, without even the most basic elements. In these worlds, even the laws were undefined. Should an enemy trespass here, Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate could arbitrarily impose laws based on their nature.
Within the shattered remnants of this Third Realm, there existed a dichotomy. Some were wild and untamed, their laws untouched by the hand of the Seven-Colored Immortal over countless ages. Others still echoed with his ancient decrees, preserved and tirelessly enforced.

Regardless of their nature, these three hundred fragments of the primal world were treacherous. Save for those whose very souls were woven with immortality, like the formidable Lian Dao Fei, any who dared trespass risked oblivion. A single misstep could lead to a silent, forgotten demise.

The first type of realm, harboring bestial monstrosities of immense power, presented a unique peril. Eons had passed since their creation; what strange evolutions and hidden dangers lurked within their depths? None could say, and that very uncertainty was a blade held to the throat.

Wang Lin’s understanding of these realms was incomplete, for the threads of his soul remained partially sundered from the memories of his third. He possessed only seven or eight parts of the entire knowledge.

Now, standing in the starlit void, his eyes swept across the cosmos, a spark of recognition igniting within them.

“This must be one of the Third Realms,” he mused, “But is it of the first, untamed kind, or one bound by the ancient laws of the Seven-Colored Immortal?” With a surge of speed, he launched himself forward, a streak of incandescent energy tearing through the void, devouring leagues with each breath.

His spectral form flickered across nine celestial bodies scattered across the cosmos, searching desperately for a sign. Yet, his efforts proved fruitless.

Time, a precious and dwindling resource, continued to slip away. The extra half-hour he had purchased with his forbidden magic was rapidly vanishing, consumed in the weaving of protective wards around the realm’s edge.

On the ninth star, frustration etched lines upon Wang Lin’s brow.

“The memories of the Third Soul offer no insight into established rules,” he muttered. “It seems the Seven-Colored Immortal could alter the very fabric of reality within these realms with a mere thought.” He unleashed his spiritual sense, a net cast wide across the star-strewn sea, probing every corner, every hidden crevice. Then, a jolt, a flicker of awareness.

He sensed it – a subtle ripple, an invisible wave that pulsed through the cosmos. It was faint, elusive, almost undetectable.

Wang Lin focused all his will upon this ethereal vibration. As his borrowed time reached its end, he pinpointed its origin: the fifth star, the one he had already searched once before.

Without hesitation, he vanished. Appearing on the fifth star, he moved as a wraith, drawn to a solitary mountain peak, its jagged form piercing the heavens like a sword. At its base, he paused, the subtle tremor emanating from within the stone.

“Could it be…?” Without a second thought, he focused the full might of his spiritual power upon the mountain. Yet, for all his probing, the stone remained stubbornly ordinary, revealing no secrets.

“Let us see,” Wang Lin murmured. “I am the first to arrive. Therefore, I decree: This realm shall prohibit the presence of all who bear the blood of immortals!” As the words echoed in the void, a cataclysmic roar erupted, shaking the very fabric of reality. The cosmos twisted and buckled as if on the verge of collapse.

For a fleeting moment, a new law sought to be born, to carve itself into existence. But then, as quickly as it began, the chaos subsided. The tremor faded, leaving only silence.

Wang Lin hung in the air, his brow furrowed in thought.

“This realm lacks the power to manifest such a decree,” he realized. “Then, let us find another.”

At that very instant, back in the outside world, the doors of the hidden sanctuary were flung open. The tempest dissipated, and the Seven-Colored Daoist and the ancient War Fiend plunged within, followed by a tide of cultivators eager to claim their prize.

The Seven-Colored Daoist entered first, his eyes flickering with barely concealed anticipation. With a wave of his hand, he bypassed the ruins below, venturing directly into the massive cauldron that hung in the center of the realm.

The War Fiend followed, his eyes gleaming with ancient malice as he merged with the cauldron.

On either side of the cauldron, the grotesque visages of the Seven-Colored Daoist and the War Fiend emerged, their forms wreathed in shadows, a horrifying testament to the power contained within.

The Grand Sovereign entered next, his eyes scanning the ground with a calculating gaze. He froze, his face contorted in surprise as he raised his hand, the Grand Sovereign turned invisible and hid within the cauldron.

The Blue Dream Daoist followed. Her eyes narrowed as she observed the ruins, but she merely smiled and strode forward, disappearing into the cauldron without incident.

The Grand Sovereign, still hidden within the vessel, frowned in confusion.