A dissonant dirge, woven from the very fabric of the burning Azure Dragon Sect, clawed at the heavens. The cacophony, though neither sharp nor jarring, possessed a sinister allure, threatening to rend Wang Lin’s soul from its earthly tether. It gnawed at his Daoist comprehension, its insidious influence reaching even to the wellspring of his very being.

This sorcery, too complex for solitary weaving, was a battle hymn of the Great Soul Sect, now unleashed by the Azure Dragon disciples. Their intent was clear: to ensnare Wang Lin, to bar his escape with this spectral snare!

Such enchantments were not unknown to Wang Lin, having encountered their like in the Realm of the Caves. Yet none possessed the potency of this assault. He, who could now stand against the might of immortals who had weathered several Xuan tribulations, still felt its pull. This fact alone spoke volumes of its formidable power.

But Wang Lin held within him the Echoing Thunder of the Heart, gleaned from the depths of the Daoist Ancient Tomb. This skill, sharing a kindred spirit with the Sect’s dirge, transformed his very heartbeat into a peal of thunder. As the dissonant chant filled the air, so too did the crackling lightning, its rhythmic pulse weaving itself into the heartbeats of the ten thousand Azure Dragon disciples, coaxing them into a maddening unison.

Thus, the two powers clashed, a storm of sound and thunder locked in a desperate stalemate!

Though he had emerged from the Realm of the Caves, Wang Lin’s power was undeniable, even upon the hallowed grounds of the Immortal Astral Continent. He strode forth from the grotto, where the four elders of the Azure Dragon Sect stood in grim vigil. In that instant, Wang Lin’s right hand seized the very essence of the earth, plucking at the void.

The land beneath the Azure Dragon Sect shuddered, and a torrent of subterranean fire erupted from the arrays hidden within the grotto. This conflagration dwarfed all that had come before in intensity and ferocity.

Wang Lin wielded a technique learned in the Realm of the Caves, akin to the extraction of mountain or star souls. Now, he sought to wrest free the soul of the very earthfire vein itself!

The entire Sky Bull Continent was crisscrossed by a vast network of these fiery veins, a labyrinthine weave that seemed to serve as a seal for some forgotten horror.

Though the main vein was beyond Wang Lin’s current reach, he could claim the smaller vein that pulsed beneath the Azure Dragon mountains. His grip tore at the earth, and the land roared in protest.

Amidst the earth-shattering clamor, as flames engulfed the landscape, the four elders who had dared to venture into the grotto stood transfixed in terror. Before their very eyes, a gargantuan dragon’s head, wreathed in Wang Lin’s inferno and larger than any mountain peak, burst forth from the ground beneath his right hand!

This was a dragon of pure flame, its serpentine whiskers whipping through the air. As it emerged, the mountain upon which the grotto stood crumbled into oblivion!

The falling stones were consumed by the fire, turning to ash before they could fall. The very mountain was devoured by the inferno, vanishing before the eyes of ten thousand awestruck disciples.

The echoes of destruction still reverberated as a dragon of impossible size, its head alone the size of a mountain, emerged from the earth. It was a being of pure fire, lacking a physical form, yet radiating an ancient, primordial soul.

This was no mere fire dragon, but the very soul of the subterranean vein itself!

Upon its head stood a man, his white hair billowing around him. His eyes shone like distant stars, and a coffin rested upon his back. He stood there, as if atop the very pinnacle of creation!

An aura of dominance exuded from him, a ruthless arrogance that demanded submission. Bathed in the dragon’s incandescent light, he was almost too much for mortal eyes to bear!

The incantations of the ten thousand disciples choked to silence. A primal tremor, a chilling dread, swept through their ranks.

In that moment, the man atop the fire dragon seemed like a searing sun, blinding their eyes and filling their hearts with a fear beyond comprehension.

Such a man, such power, such a dragon… How could they hope to stand against him?

The four elders reeled backward, overwhelmed by the mountain’s collapse and the fiery dragon’s earth-shaking emergence.

Despite their considerable power, they were reduced to the size of insects before the might of Wang Lin and the awakened earthfire soul!

This… was Wang Lin!

In the Realm of the Caves, he had reigned as the Supreme Venerated, standing upon the highest peak. Now, upon this foreign continent, he carried that very same aura.

Though these events unfolded in a blink, Wang Lin, standing upon the dragon-soul, willed it to roar.

**ROAR!**

The earth-shattering cry forced the ten thousand disciples to cough blood as they scrambled backward, unable to withstand its force, leaving a path open to the sky.

The dragon-soul, in one magnificent bound, condensed its immense form, carrying Wang Lin towards the heavens.

“He must not escape!!” The middle-aged elder screamed, his face ashen. “The Ancestor is returning swiftly. We need only delay him for a short while!” He surged forward, directly toward Wang Lin.

The remaining three, including the white-haired elder, gritted their teeth and charged forth, heedless of the danger. Their fear of the Ancestor’s wrath outweighed their terror. His rage would be unbearable, even for those who had attained the Empty Nirvana realm, especially with the Azure Dragon Sect on the brink of ruin.

The four elders surged again, becoming four streaks of light, desperate to block Wang Lin’s path.

Wang Lin remained calm. As the four approached, he merged his being with the dragon-soul. The dragon roared and launched itself toward the sky, disregarding the puny figures that dared to stand in its path.

The middle-aged elder, the swiftest of them all, appeared before the dragon-soul in a flash. His face contorted in strain as he formed a seal with his hands, bellowing with all his might at the oncoming behemoth.
Hardly had the words left his lips when the White-Haired Elder materialized behind the Middle-Aged Man. His gnarled hands formed mystic seals, and with a bitten tongue, he spat forth vital essence. Crimson ichor bloomed in the air, coalescing into a tempestuous mist where phantom visages writhed, a desperate shield against the fiery dragon!

Then arrived the pair, a man and a woman, who together transformed into colossal dragons, their scaled bodies sealing off every avenue of escape.

“Insignificant embers, daring to challenge the moon’s celestial glow!” The icy words echoed through the dragon’s roar. The fiery beast surged towards the Middle-Aged Man, and its impact reverberated across the very heavens.

A torrent of moisture erupted from the Middle-Aged Man, only to vanish in searing steam. His hair ignited, and patches of raw, inflamed flesh bloomed across his skin. The oppressive heat assailed not just his mortal form, but his very soul and spirit, for this was no mere terrestrial flame; it was the very lifeblood of the earth, a Dragon Vein of Fire!

A single tendril of this incandescent power was more than he could bear, and Wang Lin’s ascendance, his melding with the Vein’s essence, only amplified its cataclysmic force.

Unable to withstand even a heartbeat more, the Middle-Aged Man felt as though he were trapped within the Crucible of the Gods. He sensed imminent annihilation. Fear, sharper and more primal than his apprehension of his ancestors, seized him. He spewed forth blood and stumbled back dozens of paces. A second torrent of crimson followed as he desperately fled. His arms, which had first encountered the Dragon’s wrath, were the most grievously burned.

Though he retreated, even the passing breeze reduced his scorched limbs to drifting ash.

The blood-mist conjured by the White-Haired Elder fared no better. The Dragon’s impact shattered it utterly. His body convulsed as a series of sickening cracks echoed within, and his corporeal form splintered into fragments. His spiritual essence, wailing in stark terror, recoiled in utter retreat, no longer daring to interfere.

The two dragon-shaped elders suffered similar fates. The fiery Dragon swept over them, their scaled forms collapsing, blood erupting from their mouths. Their bodies detonated with deafening roars, mirroring the White-Haired Elder’s destruction.

Their spiritual essences fled, burdened by an eternal, unforgettable dread.

The collective might of four seasoned warriors was insufficient to halt Wang Lin and his fiery Dragon even a single step. In a single, devastating charge, they were all grievously wounded. The tens of thousands of Cang Long Sect disciples witnessed this scene in utter, petrified silence.

The Dragon ascended into the heavens, and upon its serpentine head, Wang Lin’s figure materialized. He gazed down upon the devastated landscape.

“Wang Lin has taken no lives. Today’s disaster is born of your sect’s desire to make of him a傀儡[kui lei]儡,” Wang Lin declared, his voice resonating with frigid power. “Consider well the consequences of your ambition!” Then, under the gaze of countless terrified eyes, he rode the fiery Dragon Vein into the sky, vanishing into the infinite expanse.

A single man, an entire sect rendered powerless to oppose him. Such power, such presence, etched Wang Lin’s image deep within the hearts of every Cang Long Sect disciple.

This battle would surely herald Wang Lin’s ascendance to prominence throughout the Tianniu Continent.

A full incense stick’s duration after Wang Lin’s departure, amidst the silence of the three Elders whose bodies were shattered, and the trembling of the Middle-Aged Man who was now deprived of his arms, a thunderous roar echoed through the heavens!

The earth itself seemed to shudder at the sound. Flames that still danced upon the ground flickered, then extinguished as if commanded, their essence rising skyward as billowing black smoke.

The roar sent tremors through the very souls of the four elders. They raised their eyes to behold two streaks of light descend from the heavens, one of which seemed to tear the very fabric of reality.

Within this blinding streak, a figure coalesced: a youth with rose-red lips and teeth, arched brows and starry eyes. He should have been a vision of youthful handsomeness, yet his face was contorted with a feral rage.

His speed was such that he appeared distant, yet in an instant, he stood above the ruined Cang Long Sect. He beheld the desolation below, and fell into a profound, foreboding silence.

His silence weighed upon the four Elders with unbearable pressure and dread.

The second streak of light arrived, transforming into the figure of a woman, fair and alluring beyond measure. But upon witnessing the destruction below, her expression shifted to one of stark horror, and she hastily distanced herself from the enraged youth.