With a narrowing gaze, Azure Ox Ascetic fell silent. The layered illusions of the Ninth Level of the Spirit Repository Pavilion were the most potent art within the Grand Spirit Sect. While it would have been of little consequence to impart them to Wang Lin, the First Ancestor had decreed that Wang Lin was to enter the Ninth Level only after three hundred years.

“The Spirit Repository Pavilion… it holds a Tenth Level,” Azure Ox Ascetic rumbled, breaking the silence.

Wang Lin’s expression remained serene, though his pupils contracted ever so slightly.

“The Tenth Level… even I cannot breach its threshold. In all the ages of the Grand Spirit Sect, only the First Ancestor has ever set foot within its confines. It is there, in that hallowed space, that he met his final transcendence!” The Ascetic spoke slowly, then lapsed once more into silence.

Wang Lin, too, held his tongue, unable to discern the Ascetic’s purpose in revealing this secret.

After what felt like the burning of a full incense stick, Azure Ox Ascetic gazed at the distant sky and spoke again.

“Your merits are not yet sufficient to warrant the complete and unburdened secrets of the Ninth Level’s illusions…”

Without a word, Wang Lin raised his right hand, and a jade slip materialized within his grasp. He offered it to Azure Ox Ascetic.

“Will this be enough?”

The Ascetic’s brow furrowed. He glanced at Wang Lin before accepting the slip, pouring his divine sense into its depths. His countenance shifted instantly. He looked at Wang Lin once more, a question in his eyes, before returning his focus to the jade slip.

Having absorbed every detail within, every nuance of Wang Lin’s experiences with the Pill of Immortal Slaughter, Azure Ox Ascetic inhaled deeply. His gaze upon Wang Lin now held a newfound, peculiar quality.

With his profound cultivation, the Ascetic could easily discern the truth held within the jade slip. Combining this knowledge with the deductions he had made from the recent shifts in the heavens and the reports from his hidden agents, he wove a tapestry in his mind, connecting the events within the Pill Sea.

Furthermore, Wang Lin’s injuries, though mostly healed, retained a lingering residue, an imperfection that stubbornly resisted repair. This served only to further confirm the slip’s authenticity.

“Good, good, good!” Azure Ox Ascetic, clutching the jade slip, roared with laughter. With a flourish of his left hand, a torrent of celestial energy flowed into Wang Lin’s body. Amidst the echoing booms, Wang Lin’s injuries were instantly mended!

“This time, you have rendered a great service! The Grand Spirit Sect rewards those who deserve it. The complete illusions of the Ninth Level shall be yours! But in return, you must agree to a single condition!” Azure Ox Ascetic’s eyes blazed as he regarded Wang Lin, his admiration growing with each passing moment. He thought to himself that the First Ancestor, founder of the Grand Spirit Sect, was indeed wise in his selection. The chosen one possessed both the audacity and the spirit!

“What is this condition?” Wang Lin, unmoved by the Ascetic’s praise, remained calm and asked the question in a measured tone.

“Slay ten Void Tribulant cultivators of the Green Devil Continent’s Initial Stage, slay three Void Tribulant cultivators of their Mid-Stage, and then enter the Ninth Level and the Tenth Level of the Spirit Repository Pavilion!”

“Only upon accomplishing these three tasks shall you be permitted to depart from the Grand Spirit Sect…”

Upon hearing these words, a jolt ran through Wang Lin. He fell silent. He had indeed harbored thoughts of leaving on his return journey. He had intended to repay the Grand Spirit Sect for their aid by completing his obligations and then withdrawing from this war entirely.

His true objective lay with the Eastern Immemorial Sect and the distant Dao Ancient Clan. He could not linger in this Sky Bull Continent for long. Moreover, this war stirred within him a sense of unease, and he desired not to be caught in its tangled web.

Azure Ox Ascetic had clearly perceived this desire. But instead of forcing him to stay, he presented these three conditions, conditions that evoked within Wang Lin the memory of the three gifts.

After a long silence, Wang Lin raised his head, met the Ascetic’s gaze, and nodded gravely.

Whatever the Grand Spirit Sect’s motivations, they had provided him with invaluable assistance. It was in Wang Lin’s nature to repay such debts. And if these three conditions were to serve as that repayment, then even though they would be arduous, he believed he could fulfill them.

Seeing Wang Lin’s assent, Azure Ox Ascetic smiled faintly and waved his sleeve. A simple, ancient jade slip shot forth, landing in Wang Lin’s outstretched hand.

Within it lay the complete incantations and secrets of the Grand Spirit Sect’s most potent art: the Multi-Layered Illusions, from the first layer to the ninth.

“To master this art, you must craft a Ghost Sail. With war impending, I shall provide you with all the necessary materials. However, the souls required for the Sail must be of your choosing. If you find none that suit you, you may seek one out at the Ghost Peak.” As the Ascetic spoke, he reached into the void and grasped a ball of light, filled with the crafting materials. He offered it to Wang Lin.

With a flick of his sleeve, Wang Lin stored the ball of light within his robes. He rose, clasped his fist in a gesture of respect toward Azure Ox Ascetic, and turned to leave.

“Time is fleeting. In seven days, I will send you and several elders to garrison one of the Sky Bull Seven Apertures…” The Ascetic’s words echoed and swirled in Wang Lin’s ears. He did not turn back, but transformed into a streak of light and departed from Green Sky Peak.

Soaring through the air, Wang Lin returned to his own mountain. When he had departed, the mountain’s flames had appeared to be extinguished, leaving it merely crimson red. But as Wang Lin set foot upon its slopes, the mountain erupted once more in a sea of fire, emitting a low rumble.

Fan Shanmeng, who had been sitting in meditation, opened her eyes, her gaze filled with a hint of anxiety. She bit her lip and waited in vain for Wang Lin’s summons, a sense of unease settling within her heart.

Wang Lin, at this moment, had no time for Fan Shanmeng. He arrived at his cave dwelling, sat down in a cross-legged position, and released the ball of light from his sleeve. With a flick of his finger, it shattered, and the various materials required to craft the Ghost Sail floated in the air within the cave.

These materials were of diverse appearance, yet each was exceedingly precious. They were, after all, gifts from Azure Ox Ascetic, and of the highest quality.

Gazing upon these materials, Wang Lin produced the ancient jade slip containing the secrets of the Multi-Layered Illusions. He poured his divine sense into its depths, committing to memory the incantations and all the intricate details of the art, including the method for crafting the Ghost Sail.

According to the jade slip, the Ghost Sail’s quality was divided into five grades: Basic, Intermediate, Advanced, Peak, and Absolute. Each grade corresponded to two layers of the illusion.

Within the Grand Spirit Sect, most disciples possessed only a Basic grade Ghost Sail. To attain an Intermediate grade Sail was rare, and only elders or the most favored core disciples of each peak would receive one from their masters for protection.
The Phantom Sails of Fan Shanmeng, even in their time, were of Middle Grade, a gift from Yan Luan. Such sails, already potent, could, if wielded with cunning, circumvent the very foundations of one’s cultivation! This Fan Shanmeng had demonstrated with chilling effect.

Yet, if one were to possess Upper or even Exquisite Grade Phantom Sails, coupled with layered illusions, the resultant power would be terrifying to behold. As for Supreme Grade, such were nigh impossible to forge. The entire Great Soul Sect possessed but a single sail of that caliber.

This sole Supreme Grade sail served as the very warding array for the Sect’s mountain citadel! Even the glimpses Wang Lin had caught revealed not its full potential, but merely a fraction of its might.

These revelations, recorded within the jade slip, mingled with Wang Lin’s own deductions, coalesced into a sharp understanding within his mind.

“Phantom Sails require souls for their creation, yet… the requisite essence is not merely the souls of cultivators, nor is it dependent upon the strength of their cultivation… but must be, alas… *dead souls*,” Wang Lin murmured, a furrow deepening between his brows. He had never before encountered such a term.

The slip explained that a dead soul was the ephemeral echo of a person or beast, born in the instant of death from lingering regrets, insatiable desires, or seething resentment. Invisible and intangible, it was a delicate balance: too much, and it became a useless wraith; too little, and it could not coalesce. Finding them was an arduous task. Throughout the ages, countless scholars within the Great Soul Sect had dedicated themselves to the study of these dead souls, eventually devising a method of harvesting them just before death.

However, souls harvested in this manner, lacking the tempering of time, could only be used to craft Initial Grade Phantom Sails, or, at best, Middle Grade. These nascent dead souls could withstand only three or four layers of illusion. Beyond that, they would shatter and dissolve.

“These dead souls,” Wang Lin mused, “can be considered a form of will… Only when that will is potent and strengthened by the relentless grind of time can it withstand the stacking of five or more layers of illusion.”

He realized the principle: the illusions fed upon this will, drawing sustenance from it to create layer upon layer of deception, ensnaring the victim. The stronger the will, the stronger the illusions! He slowly began to grasp the structure of the layered illusions.

Admiration bloomed within him. The ingenuity and mystery of this art were profound, difficult to decipher without witnessing its full form.

“The creator of this art must have possessed an extraordinary gift!” Wang Lin sighed, gazing upon the jade slip.

In truth, the art was easily understood. Wang Lin remembered his childhood, before his path as a cultivator began. He had occasionally overheard tales of haunted houses from the adults in his village.

At such times, the afflicted family would journey to the county seat to summon those who could banish the specters, hoping to find peace. Wang Lin recalled that even his own family had experienced such an event long ago. The memory, once faded, was now resurrected by the principle of the layered illusions.

“These ‘hauntings’ are largely illusions, making people see strange visions and become trapped within them, unable to escape,” Wang Lin said, “And from that stems the haunting.

“Haunting represents unrest, movement and chaos, and also psychological anxiety and agitation…” Wang Lin mused, looking at the jade slip.

Only after embarking on the path of cultivation and reflecting upon those tales did he understand that the so-called hauntings were merely pockets of resentment in the world, capable of influencing a person’s mind at certain moments, filling them with unease and confusion. And from that arises the ‘ghost,’ and the series of delusions.

This was the deepest core of layered illusions! The very origin of illusion!

“So-called layered illusions are, in essence, so simple… They are nothing more than the art of deluding men with ghosts! It seems simple, but the person who could discover this method and turn it into an arcane art, a divine ability, and even a Daoist art, deserves our utmost respect!” Understanding dawned in Wang Lin’s eyes.