“The truth of the matter, I know not,” the burly man confessed. “But this envoy is accompanied by Prince Jidu. Surely, Emperor Shigu has consented, else the city lord would not have ordered the gates sealed.”

“A bride-seeking mission?” Wang Lin murmured, taken aback. He gave it little thought beyond finding it ludicrous that the future sovereign of the Daogu lineage, whom he was destined to protect, would dispatch an emissary to the other two ancient realms for the sake of choosing a consort.

“Still,” he mused, “to encounter a scion of Daogu here… they must carry detailed maps to the Twelve Territories. It saves me the trouble of seeking them out myself.” As he pondered further questions, a shift in the atmosphere caught his attention. He looked towards the city, where the sounds of marching feet echoed. Soon, two companies of ancient warriors, clad in cerulean armor, emerged from the gates with brisk purpose.

The two squads numbered near a thousand. They formed ranks before the city entrance, their menacing presence amplified by the arrival of three figures from within the gate.

Leading them was a towering giant of a man, easily a dozen feet tall, clad in golden armor with a scarlet cloak draped across his shoulders. His countenance radiated authority.

To the giant’s left stood a man resembling a cultivator, adorned in azure robes. A picture of serene cultivation, his handsome features were accentuated by a neatly trimmed goatee. He held a black fan in his hand, but beneath his calm facade, a strange energy swirled within his eyes, particularly in his left eye where a mist coiled eerily.

Finally, on the golden giant’s right stood a black-clad youth, his expression impassive, barely concealing the simmering rage and bloodlust within. He seemed to burn with an icy, internal fire.

The giant was clearly the leader. Stepping forth, he cast his gaze into the distance, but suddenly, as if sensing a presence, he snapped his head in Wang Lin’s direction.

He was not alone. The two figures behind him turned as well, their gazes fixed on the nine star-like marks emblazoned upon Wang Lin’s brow. A flicker of recognition sparked in their eyes.

“Hail, Lord of the Sacred City! Hail, Saint of Demons! Hail, Saint of Beasts!” The two leather-clad guards near Wang Zhu, and the five more by the city gate, dropped to one knee in immediate, unwavering reverence.

The golden giant, however, paid them no heed. His gaze remained fixed on Wang Lin, a hint of perplexity in his eyes.

“Noble kinsman, I find your face unfamiliar. I am Liang Yun, Lord of the Blackstone City. Is there aught you require in my city?” The golden giant bowed his head in respectful greeting.

“I am Kong Si,” said the azure-robed man with the unsettling eyes, a smile playing on his lips. He, too, bowed.

Only the black-clad youth remained silent, his gaze sweeping over Wang Lin with cold indifference.

“I am Wang Lin, a traveler who happened upon this place,” Wang Lin replied, returning their bows. “I heard of Prince Jidu’s approach with the Daogu envoy, and lingered to observe. If my presence is unwelcome, I shall depart.” He showed no arrogance, for his nature was to reciprocate kindness with respect.

“A visitor is always welcome! Stay and wait with us, Brother Wang,” boomed the golden giant, his manner open and hearty.

Wang Lin, sensing the raw power of the ancient god within the giant, felt a sense of kinship. With a smile, he moved forward, placing himself beside the three.

“You are also a holy one, Brother Wang, I presume you have endured the Second Severing and now stand at the threshold of melding demon and beast,” the golden giant remarked, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “How fares your progress?”

“Melding demon and beast?” Wang Lin’s inner thoughts churned but his expression remained unchanged. He shook his head and smiled without answering.

“The Three Gates of Tong, Rong, and Lian are not so easily breached. Look at him, not a trace of demon or beast exudes from him. He likely still gropes in the dark. Your question is pointless, Liang Yun,” the black-clad youth interrupted coldly, his disdain palpable as he scanned Wang Lin.

“Meng Luo!” The golden giant frowned, glancing at the youth before turning back to Wang Lin with an apologetic bow.

“You must forgive Meng Luo, Brother Wang. He is the Saint of Demons, and his temperament is… volatile. The Three Gates… truly they are a great challenge. I, myself, have made little progress.”

“No matter,” Wang Lin replied with a dismissive smile. He was not one to be bothered by such trivialities.

They exchanged idle words, but Wang Lin noticed that the golden giant and the demonic Kong Si seemed to be probing his past, though they ultimately gleaned nothing.

Gradually, the conversation waned, and the group settled into a hushed stillness.

A short while later, as if sensing something, Wang Lin casually glanced at the sky. Kong Si, ever watchful, followed Wang Lin’s gaze but saw nothing of note.

Yet, the moment he was about to lower his eyes, his expression hardened. The golden giant and the black-clad youth, too, looked skyward, their faces etched with reverence and fervent anticipation.

For in that instant, the heavens themselves shifted. Ripples of energy erupted, spreading in every direction. Then, a deafening boom shattered the silence as a colossal fist materialized in the sky, smashing down upon the celestial dome.

As the thunderous echo rolled outward, the firmament seemed to buckle and crack. The ripples multiplied, the fissures widening until it appeared as if two immense hands had pierced through the veil, tearing open the sky to reveal a vast, gaping rift.

From the tear emerged a colossal azure form, tens of thousands of feet tall, with a single horn sprouting from its head. This was an ancient demon, wreathed in a miasma of oppressive demonic energy that poured forth, engulfing the world in an endless, suffocating fog.

Its eyes blazed with savage red fury. A deafening roar erupted from its throat as it strode fully through the rift, planting one massive foot upon the earth with a thunderous impact!

The shockwave sent countless plumes of dust billowing outwards like a raging tide, as if a tempest had descended upon them.

Wang Lin, his eyes gleaming, stared intently at the ancient demon, his heart pounding in his chest.

“… This is no ordinary ancient demon!” He recognized the difference immediately. He had seen ancient demons in the Cave World, but those, like the ancient gods, were indistinguishable from mortals unless they revealed their true form.

Even then, they retained their sanity, never descending into blind rage. Most importantly, the demonic power radiating from this being was of such magnitude that it rivaled that of a Celestial Exalted in the Immortal Realm.

“Hail, Your Highness!” The golden giant, the Saint of Demons, and the black-clad youth fell to one knee before the titan, their voices ringing with reverence and adoration.

Likewise, the thousand warriors knelt in fervent awe. Within the city gates, all who beheld the demon were seized with a chilling fear and bowed in submission.

In all that place, only Wang Lin stood upright.

The golden giant, kneeling, noticed Wang Lin’s defiance. A look of disbelief crossed his face. Kong Si shared his shock, and even the cold-hearted youth appeared briefly stunned.

How could a mere prince command Wang Lin to kneel? Not even a Grand Celestial Exalted could force such a gesture. Even the Immortal Emperor would be granted no more than a respectful bow.

Wang Lin remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on the roaring demon. He saw a lone figure standing upon its head, clad in imperial robes, his dark hair fluttering in the wind. The youth was unremarkable in appearance, but he exuded an aura of undeniable nobility.

Behind him stood a young woman in azure robes, her eyes wide with surprise as they met Wang Lin’s.

The robed youth noticed the solitary figure standing amid the kneeling masses. His gaze narrowed, and as the heavens thundered once more, he turned his gaze skyward.

From the rift, a second colossal figure emerged. This one was slightly smaller, only ten thousand feet tall, and possessed two horns. It was a pure-black ancient devil.

Its eyes burned with the same savage frenzy, the same barely suppressed rage. With a piercing roar, it, too, stepped onto the earth, and atop its head stood seven figures.

Five men and two women, they bowed to the youth atop the ancient demon before turning their attention to the lone figure standing on the ground below.

“Forgive our clan’s impudence,” said the robed youth, offering a slight smile to the seven atop the ancient devil. He turned his gaze to the golden giant, whose awe-struck countenance betrayed the turmoil Wang Lin had caused.

“Liang Yun, is this one of your newly sworn vassals?”

“Your Highness,” stuttered the giant, “I do not know this man. He appeared just moments ago, claiming he wished to… wished to behold Your Highness! I beg your forgiveness for allowing him to remain. I shall slay him now, to make an example!” The golden giant’s eyes blazed with anger and murderous intent.

“Do not!” The robed youth’s voice was laced with cold command as he fixed his gaze upon Wang Lin.

“Tuoluo, kill him!” At the prince’s command, the ancient demon beneath him let out a deafening roar. Its colossal right claw shot out, hurtling towards Wang Lin with terrifying speed, as if to crush him into dust. Upon the claw, razor-sharp talons materialized into streaks of obsidian, laden with a deadly demonic aura, aimed directly for Wang Lin.