Lord Wang, a matter troubled his very soul. These strange notions, sprung forth from the sight of the spectral paper crane, spoke of designs most peculiar. The Green Devil Continent, the Celestial Bull Continent – both were realms of the Immortal Clans.

Though these lands knew skirmishes between their sects, this was no mere feud. This was an act of brazen defiance! To melt down a Dan Sea, to forcibly sunder the barriers between continents, to march an army upon a foreign shore – such deeds filled Wang Lin with unease and shadowed whispers of a deeper purpose.

This was not the squabble of rival houses, but the throes of war!

“Intriguing…” he murmured, “I pray my suspicions are unfounded. For with each soul lost, my own presence here fades to naught.”

If this conflict served a purpose beyond mortal comprehension, a chilling dread filled his heart. Green Devil, Celestial Bull… perhaps… Wang Lin, upon the back of his mosquito beast, fell into a brooding silence. He thought of the three gifts bestowed upon him within the Great Soul Sect, the words of the azure ox hinting at the Grand Ancestor’s foresight of his arrival.

A grand design was at play, one of vital importance to the Great Soul Sect and, perhaps, to the Green Devil Continent itself!

Thus, after countless minor clashes, the Green Devil Continent had unleashed a terrifying strategy, melting down a Dan Sea to cleave the land and invade the Celestial Bull!

And thus, the Great Soul Sect had, ages ago, migrated to this very land. Their Grand Ancestor, calculating and weaving the threads of destiny, sought to enact a secret held close to his heart!

Wang Lin fell silent, extending his palm. Upon it, a tiny effigy materialized. He gazed upon it for an age, resisting the urge to decipher the secrets of heaven and earth, and then closed his fist, concealing the miniature figure.

“What good is foreknowledge?” he mused. “My skills are insufficient to unravel the truth. Of the three gifts left to me, one holds the Grand Ancestor’s calculations. Perhaps he foresaw my questioning, and left this gift to reveal the answer.” A faint smile touched his lips. He would not rush to use this gift. He needed no forced visions; from the scattered clues he had already gleaned a number of possibilities. Now, he must patiently sift through them, discarding the false until but one true answer remained!

Such investigations were his strength.

Or perhaps… he could ignore the brewing storm and depart before the tempest broke.

Ten days hence, Wang Lin stood before the gates of the Great Soul Sect. The moment he appeared, long streaks of light descended swiftly, and he sensed the entire sect was veiled in a shimmering distortion, like a mirage.

Within this twisted reality, a chilling intent pulsed, causing his eyes to narrow. This intent was not directed at him, but was a piece of the sect’s grand defensive array.

Though obscured by the shimmering veil, he felt the Great Soul Sect throbbed with a stifled power, like a volcano poised to erupt.

This feeling, a fleeting impression, may have been truth or illusion. As the streaks of light halted before him, he perceived a careful wariness and guarded hostility within their emanations.

This animosity subsided upon recognizing him, but caution remained. The streaks of light resolved into seven figures, standing before Wang Lin.

Among them were two elders of the Great Soul Sect; the remaining five were disciples.

“Elder Wang, forgive our intrusion!” One of the elders, whom Wang Lin had encountered during his battle with the Crimson Luan, spoke.

“The Green Devil Continent has shattered our defenses. The Grand Ancestor commands all returning, regardless of rank or lineage, to undergo a thorough examination before entering the sect.” The elder bowed respectfully.

The second elder also bowed. Since Wang Lin had entered the seventh and eighth levels of the Hidden Soul Pavilion, few within the Great Soul Sect wished to earn his displeasure.

The five disciples beside them bowed in unison, their eyes darting towards Wang Lin. This was their first glimpse of the man himself.

“No matter,” Wang Lin said with a smile. “In these times, such precautions are warranted.”

The two elders breathed a collective sigh of relief at Wang Lin’s amenable response. They were loath to earn his ire, and would not jeopardize their camaraderie with the elder for such a petty order. They smiled in return, their hearts warming with thoughts of forging a deeper bond.

“Elder Wang, please present your token, imprint it with your divine sense to verify your soul, and imbue it with a drop of blood to affirm your flesh.” One of the elders requested, bowing once more.

Wang Lin nodded, raising his hand to grasp at the empty air. In his palm appeared the token he had once used to enter the Hidden Soul Pavilion. Before the elders, he infused it with his divine sense, pricked his finger, let a single drop of blood fall upon it, and then tossed it towards the two men.

One of them caught it. His left hand flashed in a mystic gesture, and the Great Soul Sect’s defensive array shuddered, unleashing an immense pressure which descended upon Wang Lin, coursing through his body.

Wang Lin’s spirit recoiled. He sensed the array’s purpose was to purge any extraneous souls or divine senses lurking within him, and to assess the strength of the bond between his physical form and his soul.

Through these means, it sought to verify his identity. As the pressure receded, it washed over the token itself, confirming the initial assessment. Only then did the elders truly relax, returning the token to Wang Lin.

One of them said, “Elder Wang, forgive our intrusion. The array confirms your identity, you may return to the sect. We are bound by duty and cannot accompany you further, but may you accept our sincerest apologies.”
A hint of courtliness touched Wang Lin’s demeanor, for he was ever mirrored the respect shown to him. More, the vestiges of his scholarly existence in the Dream Dao of the Cave World clung to him, an aura of quiet wisdom. With a gentle smile and a respectful clasp of hands towards the two elders, he turned to depart, then paused, a question forming on his lips.

“…Has there been some… incident within the sect of late?”

The elders exchanged a knowing glance. One lowered his voice, confiding, “Seven days past, a sorcerer from the Verdant Mire sought to infiltrate the Grand Soul Sect. Elder Xu Dongde was first to perceive the deception, and struck the miscreant down!”

“This angered the Ancestor mightily, and…” The elder trailed off, a wry smile twisting his lips before he bowed and took his leave.

Wang Lin fell silent, his form blurring into a streak of light as he pierced the heart of the Grand Soul Sect. A prickling unease, present before, now intensified, a suffocating blanket stifling the air.

Streaks of light crisscrossed the sky as disciples hurried hither and yon, their forms a blur against the backdrop of the sprawling sect. Colossal materials of craft, too vast for any storage ring, were borne upon the shoulders of tireless cultivators to their designated forges.

Even the vast herbal gardens teemed with activity. Disciples plucked and gathered rare blooms, their bounty destined for the cauldrons of the elder alchemists, whose hands stirred the mystic art with relentless fervor.

From a thousand peaks rose the low thrum of concentrated power, a symphony of elders in secluded meditation, honing their spirits to razor’s edge, ever prepared to answer the summons of the sect.

All but one. While the Grand Soul Sect burned with industry, Firepeak remained shrouded in stillness, a sanctuary of silence.

His gaze swept the desolate mountain, and found Fan Shanmeng meditating within her cave, a statue carved from bone and patience.

After a moment’s contemplation, Wang Lin flicked his sleeve. He would not return to his peak. Instead, he turned his face towards the hallowed peak of Azure Sky, where Elder Azure Ox dwelled.

“Greetings, Elder Wang!”

“Disciple of the Path of Flames pays homage to Elder Wang!”

“Disciple of Crumbling Sky offers respect to Elder Wang!”

Along his path, all who beheld Wang Lin paused in their duties, offering their respects before returning to their toil.

Wang Lin, his stride unwavering, responded with a brief nod as he soared forth. His speed was such that it drew the attention of elders on neighboring peaks, but their divinations revealed the approaching form of Wang Lin, and they dismissed their concerns.

Before long, Azure Sky loomed into view. Wang Lin blurred once more, appearing before the peak. He clasped his hands in respect and his voice echoed like a thunderclap:

“Wang Lin seeks an audience with Azure Ox True Being!”

Azure Sky, once unguarded, was now wreathed in a cerulean mist. At Wang Lin’s summons, the mist writhed and parted, revealing a path.

“Enter.” Azure Ox’s voice, barely a whisper, drifted on the breeze.

Without hesitation, Wang Lin stepped into the breach. As he passed, the mist closed behind him. With a final surge, he ascended to the peak, and there, upon a weathered stone, sat Azure Ox. The elder’s gaze was fixed on a miniature figure, a soul-like being, kneeling in supplication in the palm of his hand.

Wang Lin remained silent, observing the spectral supplicant.

At length, the miniature figure offered six deep bows, its form growing ever more insubstantial with each offering. With a final clench of his fist, Azure Ox extinguished the fading ember of its existence.

“Your jade scroll has been received. You have earned a great merit this day,” Azure Ox spoke, his eyes slowly opening. A faint smile played upon his lips as he turned towards Wang Lin.

“The Verdant Mire has long tested our borders with petty skirmishes, but this is the first time they have dared to commit such resources, to even unearth the secrets of refining the Soul Sea…”

“This matter will not be easily resolved. The Verdant Mire boasts three powerful sects, led by three ancient wretches whose strength rivals my own. But fear not! I alone am capable of holding two of them at bay!” A chill settled in Azure Ox’s eyes, a subtle admission that his soul-weighing divination had yielded troubling results.

Wang Lin remained impassive, seating himself across from the elder. He met Azure Ox’s gaze and spoke:

“I require access to the Hidden Soul Pavilion, the ninth level and its manifold illusions.”