## Chapter 1778: The Ancient Dao Knows No Immortal!

“This… this is a clash of Gods and Immortals…” Within Wang Lin, his cultivation began to wane, his origin points retracting, falling dormant. His body, both inside and out, now pulsed with the thick aura of the Ancient Dao.

“Years ago, the Seven-Colored Immortal Venerate and Ye Mo clashed, and Ye Mo fell… a lamentable event. This battle today, however, feels like destiny fulfilled. Wang Lin shall face you, and continue that ancient struggle!”

Wang Lin raised his right hand, clenching it into a fist. A series of thumping echoes resonated from his palm, and his eyes glowed with silver light. With a sweep of his sleeve, he strode directly towards Zhan Laogui.

As he advanced, the thunderous beat of Wang Lin’s heart filled the air, disrupting Zhan Laogui’s focus, causing a sharp pain to stab at his heart, and casting a deep shadow across his face.

Above, the puppet of Yi Si shrieked, dissolving into a cloud of black mist that hurtled towards Zhan Laogui.

“Heartbeat, Thunderous Echoes!” Wang Lin spoke calmly, and the thunder of his heart, like a celestial drum, exploded in a deafening roar, accelerating into a relentless barrage.

Under this violent assault, Zhan Laogui let out a strangled groan. He faltered, disregarding the piercing pain in his chest, and charged towards Wang Lin.

“Mind Shattered, Step Asunder!” A killing intent flashed in Wang Lin’s eyes, and the world thundered. In that instant, the reverberating echoes of every heartbeat seemed to converge upon the approaching Zhan Laogui. The deafening cacophony struck his very core, causing his will to teeter on the brink of collapse.

Zhan Laogui’s face contorted in a grimace. He seized his chest, his fingers digging in, pressing inward with desperate strength. His chest caved in as he used a forbidden art to forcibly restrain his own heart, preventing it from beating.

Wang Lin’s gaze sharpened. He stepped forward, raising his right fist, unleashing the overwhelming power of the Ancient Dao. It coalesced within his hand, infused with the light of the nine Ancient God stars on his brow and the seventeen Demonic Immortal stars in his eyes. It transformed into a single, epoch-shattering blow, a primordial fist of the Dao, aimed at Zhan Laogui across the void.

A catastrophic boom reverberated, shaking the foundations of the land. The sky crumbled, the earth fractured, and amidst the apocalyptic landscape, Zhan Laogui wove hand seals, conjuring seven characters of “War” before him!

They collided head-on with Wang Lin’s punch.

The characters shattered one after another, six collapsing into nothingness. Wang Lin’s fist dissipated along with them. Zhan Laogui stumbled back, weakened, but the final remaining character of “War” hurtled towards Wang Lin, exploding before him in a wave of turbulent energy.

Wang Lin grunted, a trickle of blood escaping his lips. He staggered back, then abruptly lifted his head. The puppet of Yi Si had reached Zhan Laogui, its black energy swirling as they engaged in a furious melee.

“After absorbing the Seven-Colored Daoist, he is indeed stronger than before… Even with all of Ye Mo’s inheritance, save the left eye, I am still not his match… But I can gamble everything, regardless of success or failure!” Wang Lin’s expression remained calm, his mind focusing on the most powerful technique he had gleaned from Ye Mo’s legacy!

A technique learned by Ye Mo from within the ancient temples of the Ancient Dao clan, a forbidden art passed down through the ages! Wang Lin had witnessed its terrifying form within the illusionary inheritance of the ancient tomb, a vision etched forever in his memory.

Now, with the entirety of Ye Mo’s inheritance, save the left eye, his understanding of the technique was profound. Slowly, he raised his arm, clenching it into a fist once more, and struck forward across the void. With this strike, the nine Ancient God stars on his brow blazed to life, swirling into the fist.

“Divine Tremor, Army of Celestial Weaponry!”

Though the countless celestial soldiers that had materialized before Ye Mo in the illusion were absent here, it did not diminish the power of Wang Lin’s strike. As his fist fell, the collapsing world around him shuddered, drawn inward and twisted, as if in that instant, Wang Lin’s fist had become the center of all things, the pivot around which even destruction must revolve.

The heavens spun, the earth reeled, yet Wang Lin remained unmoved.

This sight sent a shockwave through Zhan Laogui, who was still locked in combat with the puppet of Yi Si. He felt a chilling premonition wash over him. With a frantic gesture, he bit his tongue, spitting forth a mouthful of blood that transformed into a gaping maw. It lunged at the puppet of Yi Si, forcing it back, before Zhan Laogui broke free and charged towards Wang Lin.

But before he could reach him, Wang Lin drew back his earth-shattering fist, then loosened his grip, transforming it into an open palm, and flicked his hand forward! At the same moment, the eight Demonic Immortal stars in his left eye whirled into action, merging with Wang Lin’s palm as it swept through the air.

“Demonic Arts, Beacon Fires into Mountains!”

As the heavens twisted and churned, a series of blazing beacon fires erupted around Wang Lin, forming eight pillars of smoke filled with rampant demonic energy and chilling shrieks, engulfing the surrounding area.

Within each of these fiery pillars, the hazy silhouettes of eight ancient demons materialized, roaring skyward. Their combined demonic aura surged outward, swirling rapidly around Wang Lin’s body.

From afar, the eight pillars of smoke seemed to connect, forming a vortex of infernal energy!

Zhan Laogui plunged directly into the heart of this fiery tempest, determined to force his way through the storm despite the thunderous roar.

But time was not on his side. Behind him, the maddened puppet of Yi Si screamed as it lunged forward, renewing its struggle against Zhan Laogui.

Wang Lin remained behind the fiery vortex, his face serene. After his fist and palm strike, he raised his right hand, extending his index finger, and pointed it forward!

“Demonic Dao, Life-Death Inversion!” As he spoke these words, Wang Lin’s finger locked onto Zhan Laogui beyond the tempest. A look of horror washed over Zhan Laogui’s face as he felt the very life force within him rapidly transforming into death!

Furthermore, at Wang Lin’s gesture, the entire ancient tomb began to crumble. This layer, the next, even the misty world above, were now filled with an all-consuming aura of death.

This death energy, the accumulated remnants of countless beings who had perished within these halls over eons, coalesced at Wang Lin’s command. It rose like wisps of smoke, piercing through the layers of the tomb, converging upon him from all directions.
In a blink, Wang Lin found himself besieged. Not only by the raging inferno of demonic power, but also by a suffocating tide of death, a pall that smothered all light and form. So vast was this necrotic presence, it coalesced like an ocean, transforming the spinning world into a sea of the dead!

From within this unholy tide, the aura of ancient demons rose in a cacophony of spectral wails.

“God, Demon, Spirit… the Ancient Path knows no Immortals!” Wang Lin murmured, extending his hand, fingers aligning into a palm, and gently thrusting forward. As he did, the power of the three ancient bloodlines within him surged, a violent confluence of ancestral might.

Nine Stars of the Ancient God!

Nine Stars of the Ancient Demon!

Eight Stars of the Ancient Spirit!

These powers intertwined within his very being, forging the force of the Dao Ancient, the ultimate concentration for his invocation. This power channeled into his right hand, and as it struck forth, a colossal phantom manifested before him!

It was a head, a visage so immense its crown scraped the heavens, filling a great swathe of the churning world. From it emanated an aura of endless age, of eons of forgotten lore. The face was neither that of Ye Mo, nor Wang Lin’s own, but a stranger’s countenance, unfamiliar yet undeniably familiar.

The sensation throbbed in his blood, resonating with the soul-blood gifted to him by his ancient ancestors!

Had Wang Lin ventured to the lands of the Dao Ancient on the Immortal Astral Continent, had he beheld the colossal statue that defied the heavens within the Sky City, he would have instantly recognized the head summoned forth by his Dao Ancient No Immortal technique: it was the statue incarnate!

“The Ancient Ancestor!” Xuan Luo, witnessing this scene from afar, trembled. His eyes filled with reverent awe as he gazed upon the titanic head.

Its eyes were blurred, pupils indiscernible, yet the head opened its maw and unleashed a torrent of breath. This exhalation roared like a tempest, blasting outwards, scouring the heavens, and crashing against the Old Devil Zhan, and indeed, engulfing the entire Ancient Tomb!

As the winds rose, the very fabric of reality shuddered. The level of the Ancient Tomb upon which they stood groaned under the strain, the skies turning a sickly grey, instantly petrifying! The earth was washed in a similar light, hardening into unyielding stone.

Nor was this affliction confined to their level. As the breath spread, even the heartless final level of the tomb succumbed to the creeping petrification. And further still, the misty world above, the platforms within – the entirety of the Ancient Tomb turned to stone in that singular, devastating instant!

Old Devil Zhan’s eyes constricted in horror. His face ashen, he retreated madly, oblivious even to the approaching jade puppet. As he fled, he wove arcane hand seals, and from his seven orifices poured silken threads of rainbow hue, rapidly coalescing into the seven-hued soul of an ancient Daoist. Simultaneously, his body manifested its second, rainbow-hued soul, enshrouded in a billowing cloak. As the cloak writhed, the aura of the Dao Ancient swept past him.

The seven-hued soul instantly petrified, followed swiftly by the second. Finally, Old Devil Zhan’s own body grew rigid, a grey light flashing as he turned to stone.

All seemed concluded. But even as Old Devil Zhan and the souls of the Seven-Colored Immortal turned to stone, great cracks spiderwebbed across their surfaces, erupting in shattering destruction. The souls of the Seven-Colored Immortal poured back into Zhan’s body, causing him to convulse, spitting blood. Terror etched across his features, he fled. He was afraid, his heart overwhelmed with fear, just as when he first saw Wang Lin’s Li Guang Bow.

As he retreated, the petrified world shattered, collapsing and tearing apart. With it, the entire Ancient Tomb crumbled in thunderous ruin!

The space containing the Fourth Bloom shattered, the black flower exploding into a vortex of petals.

Blood trickled from Wang Lin’s lips, a crimson tide he could no longer contain. He staggered backwards through the collapsing tomb, regret and bitterness twisting his face.

“To force the Dao Ancient No Immortal technique, yet still he escapes… I haven’t the strength to invoke it a second time so soon. Had I the left eye, had the Ancient Spirit ascended to nine stars, this battle would not have been so arduous.

I am not his match, not yet… Enough. I shall seek the true gate within the Fifth Bloom, unlock the doors to the cave dwelling, and seal him away with the power of the Immortal Astral!” Wang Lin sighed, his form flickering, disappearing within the collapsing tomb.