Lord Daoyi, garbed in simple robes of the Way, stepped forth with a gentle smile playing upon his lips, his gaze lifting towards the figure of Wang Lin standing before the towering Twelve Palaces in the heavens.

Wang Lin, his countenance serene, met Daoyi’s gaze. He paused, a moment of contemplation flickering across his eyes, before clasping his hands in a slow, deliberate bow.

“I recall,” he began, his voice a calm resonance, “that should I traverse the ninth level, Lord Daoyi himself would extend an invitation.”

“Such matters need not haste. Young friend Wang Lin, first seek to conquer the twelfth level,” Daoyi replied with a subtle smile, his gaze then shifting to 武封, Lord Wufeng, standing not far distant.

Their eyes locked in a silent contest, an invisible web of power weaving between them, solidifying in the air.

This scene did not escape the notice of the assembled cultivators, especially the Celestial Venerables amongst them. Their expressions were a mixture of awe and bewilderment. Save for the incident with the late冥道尊, this was only the second time they had witnessed a Grand Celestial vying so openly for a single individual!

“Daoyi, I have set my sights upon this one. Do not dare contest me!” Wufeng boomed, his eyes glinting with a chilling light.

“Wufeng, a Transcendental Celestial Venerable he may be, yet even we cannot forcibly compel him. All rests upon his own choice. Merely desiring him does not ensure his allegiance!” Daoyi retorted, his voice laced with a playful sharpness.

“Furthermore, he now seeks to challenge the twelfth level. Should he overcome it, he shall stand as the equal of the late 冥道尊! Such a prodigy… why, even old Long Jiu might stir from his slumber to claim him! And then there is the Immortal Emperor… who knows what promises he whispered to 冥道尊 to secure his service so long ago!” Daoyi finished with a smile, sending his words as a spiritual transmission.

As their minds clashed in this silent discourse, Wang Lin in the skies above inhaled deeply and strode into the heart of the twelfth palace!

The instant he crossed the threshold, both Daoyi and Wufeng ceased their exchange, raising their gazes as one. All around them, the Celestial Venerables, Transcendental and otherwise, followed suit, their eyes fixed upon the palace entrance.

Yet this spectacle was viewed differently from beyond the Celestial Venerable Ruins. Within the Purple Sun Sect, a middle-aged cultivator gazed forlornly into a shimmering mirror, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Alas… how did he pass the eleventh level? The eleventh, perhaps… but the twelfth? He must not conquer it! For if he does, with what enticements can I hope to sway him? He will surely be seized by Long Jiu and the Immortal Emperor, whose foundations even Daoyi and Wufeng cannot match…”

“If only the Twin Celestials of our Purple Sun Sect had not met with misfortune in their last reincarnation… then perhaps we could stand against Long Jiu and the Immortal Court…”

His lament was cut short by a loud crash. The door to the stone chamber burst open, revealing a young girl clad in crimson robes.

“Xiao Gu Ya, why are you still staring at that useless mirror? Come quickly and help me and Han Han tame the little wolf! He’s been so disobedient today, and I intend to teach him a lesson!”

“Little Ancestress…” The middle-aged cultivator looked near tears as he began to speak.

“Hmm? The person in this broken mirror… looks familiar…” the girl murmured, her brow furrowing in thought.

“Of course, Little Ancestress, you recognize them. Those are Lord Wufeng and Lord Daoyi…” The middle-aged cultivator replied wearily, resigning himself to the impossibility of recruiting Wang Lin.

“Come, Little Ancestress, let me help you discipline that… that little whelp,” he added with a sigh, his heart filled with pity for the unfortunate wolf.

“Not the old baldy or the masked one, silly, but *him*!” the girl said, pointing to Wang Lin as he entered the twelfth level.

“He’s entered the palace… He looks so familiar… I remember now! His name is Wang Lin! I remember, Han Han and I saw him when we found the little wolf. We even helped him once… and Han Han met him before I did!”

“Was he the one you wanted to recruit? Wonderful! Han Han and I will go with you!” The girl clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling with glee.

The middle-aged cultivator swallowed hard, his jaw agape as he stared at the girl. After a long moment, his face lit up with fervor.

“Little… Little Ancestress, are you certain that you have met him before? That you even saved him?”

“Xiao Gu Ya, are you being disobedient?” the girl retorted, scowling and pointing her finger at him.

“The Twin Celestials have foreseen this turn of events! They aided this man long ago. With such a connection, perhaps we *can* sway him!” The middle-aged cultivator cried out, beaming as he fawned over the “Little Ancestress”.

The little girl grinned at that and puffed her chest out in pride.

“Hmph! So you see now that I and Han Han are right, eh Xiao Gu Ya? The others thought they knew better and left, but I did not! The Twin Celestials never force anyone to do anything; if they want to leave, let them. What do they know of my grand schemes?” She giggled.

“Yes, yes! The Twin Celestials always know best!” The middle-aged cultivator was quick to agree, looking at the girl with much fondness. He might be lower in cultivation level, but when the other Twin Celestials reincarnated unexpectedly, he had chosen to stay to care for the girls. All because of the kindness he had been shown as a low-level Celestial Venerable in their army. Now, he was the only one to stay.

While the Purple Sun Sect erupted in laughter, at Mount Emperor, located in the Central State, the habitually indolent Lord Long Jiu widened his eyes as he stared intently at a falling leaf.
The eleventh layer conquered, he now sought to breach the twelfth… “Hmm, this one… he is *almost* worthy. A tenuous recruit at best… but Hai Zi lingers there. To approach him seems a deviation from my earlier intentions…” The old man murmured, yet his aged eyes remained fixed, unblinking, upon the falling leaf.

“Bah, merely the eleventh! This whelp will falter. He is no match for the venerable Ming Dao.” The elder scoffed, turning his head and closing his eyes in feigned disinterest. But an age passed, and his gaze returned, sweeping across the image of the leaf once more.

“Will he succeed…?”

Across the vast expanse of Zhongzhou, within the Imperial City’s opulent palace, the black-clad Ming Dao Zun watched the ethereal projection shimmering within the grand hall, his brow furrowing with gathering storm.

“A single breath. Could he be slain within it?” A calm voice echoed through the chamber.

Ming Dao Zun remained silent for a long moment, then spoke with measured certainty. “A single breath… suffices!”

A hint of amusement rippled in the echoing voice. “He shall not pass the twelfth. His Heavenly Bull Soul Armor will face its namesake there. Let others scramble for him. I have no interest…” Yet, before the last echo faded, the voice was abruptly cut short. A ripple distorted the Emperor’s throne, and a figure materialized – a middle-aged man clad in golden robes, wearing the Imperial Crown, his features bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Immortal Ancestor.

A flicker of astonishment shone in his eyes as he beheld the projection within the hall. The twelfth layer of the Tianzun Nirvana was erupting in blinding, golden light!

Though this light was born within the Tianzun Nirvana, it seemed to pierce the veil of reality itself, bursting from the projection and engulfing the Imperial Hall in its radiant embrace!

“He has conquered the twelfth layer!” the golden-robed man exclaimed, his surprise evident.

Beside him, Ming Dao Zun, the black-clad paragon, suddenly radiated a palpable aura of murderous intent. He stared, unblinking, at the shimmering projection, icy fury blazing in his eyes.

He understood the significance. To conquer the twelfth layer was to become the object of fervent desire, sought after by the Great Tianzun, offered untold riches and power! It was to be etched in the annals of legends, his name forevermore linked to those who dared to tread the same path. This prospect, for one who considered himself foremost among the Leaping Tianzun, was unbearable!

“A mere twelfth layer. Several upon the Immortal Continent have achieved as much. To slay him requires but a single breath!” Ming Dao Zun stated, his voice low and dangerous.

The golden-robed Emperor, however, remained fixated on the projection, his thoughts veiled.

Atop the Di Mountain, the aged observer lurched to his feet, his ancient eyes gleaming with an unearthly light. But after a moment of hesitation, he slowly sank back down.

“I glimpsed him once. This youth possesses the Heavenly Bull Soul Armor… To overcome the twelfth layer with its aid… he still pales in comparison to Ming Dao Zun. Unless he can, clad in that same armor, conquer the thirteenth… he remains merely a common Leaping Tianzun.” The old man mused, closing his eyes once more.

“Alas, a mere trifle… truly a trifle… To recruit or not to recruit… he likely cannot overcome the thirteenth, and will choose to retreat… Hmm!” The elder snapped his eyes open. Within the falling leaf, amidst the golden radiance of the twelfth layer, Wang Lin was wreathed in an ethereal mist, clinging to him like a second skin, emanating a pressure that was palpable even through the distant observation.

“The Extreme Water Dao!”

Even as the old man discerned the unseen, watery power swirling around Wang Lin, he saw the young cultivator surge forward with unwavering resolve, refusing to yield. He plunged towards the thirteenth layer!

In the blink of an eye, his form vanished into the swirling mists, swallowed by the promise and peril of the thirteenth hall!

This bold defiance did not go unnoticed. Within the Imperial Palace of Zhongzhou, Ming Dao Zun uttered a cold snort, and his eyes flickered with barely contained bloodlust.

“Immortal Emperor, I shall journey to the Tianzun Nirvana. I seek to conquer the sixteenth layer!”