Wang Lin, his visage serene, sighed softly as his white hair danced in the ethereal breeze. He took a step forward, a realization dawning within him. Perhaps, he mused, the ways of the Ancient Clans were not his own.

“The imperial authority of the Ancient Clans,” he murmured, “is laid bare even in such a trifling matter.” Wang Lin’s presence here was not solely to procure the jade tablet bearing the map. He also sought to witness the true extent of the imperial power he had heard tales of, its influence and the weight of its pronouncements.

Now, he saw it. A mere prince, not even of the lineage of the Primordial Ancient Emperor, could command the prostration of an entire city. His own simple refusal to kneel had sparked shock and outrage amongst the masses.

The golden-armored warrior, once polite and cordial, had swiftly revealed his murderous intent, his face contorted with fury, as if Wang Lin’s lack of obeisance was an act of high treason.

The prince himself, with but a word, casually spoke of ending a life, as easily as one might draw breath.

Such displays, Wang Lin knew, could only manifest when imperial power reached its zenith. More importantly, the kneeling masses seemed to radiate genuine reverence and fanatical devotion. He suspected they would gladly cast themselves into the abyss at the prince’s command.

“If the Primordial Ancients are thus, then surely the Dao Ancients are no different…” A melancholic sigh escaped his lips. “Perhaps… I am truly not suited for this place…”

He resumed his pace, and as he took his third step, the massive hand of the Ancient Fiend howled towards him, filling the air with its malevolent presence. Before the eyes of the gathered crowd, the Fiend’s claw seemed to merge with Wang Lin’s form, as if he were caught within its grasp.

A wave of icy indifference washed over the crowd. The golden-armored warrior, the Fiend Saint Kong Si, the black-clad youth, the prostrating masses, even the leather-clad man who had provided the jade tablet all wore the same chilling expression.

Their shared sentiment coalesced into a silent decree: “Death to those who disrespect the Imperial Authority.”

Wang Lin’s voice echoed through the heavens, and the Ancient Fiend’s claw, seemingly immaterial, passed harmlessly through him as he continued his measured stride.

Or perhaps it was Wang Lin who had become translucent, allowing the Fiend’s strike to fall empty. With a resounding boom, Wang Lin walked onward, towards the Dao Ancient emissaries.

The enraged Fiend, its crimson eyes burning with madness, roared in frustration and lunged at Wang Lin’s back. But above, the prince froze, a rare look of intense concentration etching itself upon his face.

The kneeling masses were equally stunned. Wang Lin, who should have been annihilated, had mysteriously walked free.

The golden-armored warrior’s pupils constricted. As a Nine-Star Ancient God, he knew he could not have accomplished such a feat, and only a Fiend Saint could possess such uncanny ability.

Kong Si’s mind reeled in astonishment. He had detected no trace of fiendish energy emanating from Wang Lin as he moved, and that only made the situation all the more extraordinary.

“Who… who is he?”

The black-clad youth, a Demon Saint, was perhaps the most shaken. He had initially dismissed Wang Lin, but the man’s composure now stirred a newfound respect, even a hint of anticipation.

The seven figures atop the Ancient Demon, Dao Ancient emissaries dispatched by imperial decree to select a bride, had initially treated Wang Lin’s lack of deference as mere amusement. However, when he effortlessly walked past the Ancient Fiend, they were taken aback. But this was a matter for the Primordial Ancients; of what concern was it to them?

But Wang Lin was heading their way.

His pace was unhurried, and the Ancient Fiend, after retracting its failed grasp, howled and lunged once more. Wang Lin furrowed his brow, halted, and turned to meet the Fiend’s eyes.

“Do you seek death?”

The three words were uttered without thunder or cataclysm, yet the Fiend, its eyes wide with madness, shuddered violently. Sanity returned to its gaze, replaced by overwhelming terror, as if Wang Lin’s very presence threatened to shatter its being, to drag it into the abyss of annihilation.

The Fiend’s roar choked in its throat, transforming into a pitiful whimper. It staggered back, dropping to one knee and kowtowing repeatedly before Wang Lin.

A collective gasp swept through the crowd. The black-clad youth, his battle lust evaporated, shuddered and broke into a cold sweat.

The golden-armored warrior trembled, recalling his earlier threats of violence. He could not comprehend how a single glance could inspire such abject terror in such a mighty Ancient Fiend.

The prince and his female companion, hovering in the air, stared in disbelief. The prince knew the capabilities of his Ancient Fiend, that it could even challenge a Celestial Venerate of the Immortal Clans.

Yet, here it groveled in terror. One undeniable fact hung heavy in the air: the man who refused to kneel was possessed of unimaginable power.

“You… you…” Prince Ji Du stammered, his face ashen.

Wang Lin ignored them all, turning his back on the Fiend, and, under the weight of a thousand gazes, continued towards the Ancient Demon.

The Demon, its eyes once bloodshot and radiating savagery, whimpered and sank to the ground, trembling in subservience.

The seven figures atop its back were petrified. As Wang Lin approached, six of them retreated, unleashing their respective Dao Ancient powers.

Four of the seven radiated the aura of Nine-Star Ancient Gods. Two others had achieved a certain level of understanding, fusion, and refinement.

The most powerful was the elder, who remained rooted to the spot. His face was grim, and he roared, causing nine star points to blaze into existence within his brow and eyes.
Twenty-seven stars blazed in the heavens, each a point of ethereal light. As these celestial embers pirouetted, three gargantuan phantasms materialized behind the elder: the Ancient God, the Ancient Fiend, and the Ancient Demon.

These colossal specters towered against the firmament, their eyes burning with a fierce animosity directed at the approaching Wang Lin.

“Whatever discord lies between you and the Ancient Beginning,” the elder cried, inwardly writhing, “it has naught to do with the lineage of the Dao Ancient!” He could not fathom why this being had chosen to descend upon them.

The trio of Liang Yun possessed power akin to the Celestial Clan’s Void Profound realm, though variances existed due to their blood. As for the elder himself, he was a trinity of God, Fiend, and Demon, wielding the might of twenty-seven stars – a power comparable to the Celestial Clan’s Void Tribulant.

In the realm of the Cave Dwelling World, Wang Lin’s own twenty-seven stars were not fully complete. It was only within these past centuries amongst the Celestials that they had achieved their zenith. Yet, by virtue of his Ancient blood, the power he could wield far surpassed that of this elder.

This, perhaps, was the essence of blood. Ye Mo’s cultivation clearly surpassed that of the Seven-Colored Immortal, hence the latter’s plea for aid from Li Guang. Li Guang’s power, according to accounts gleaned en route to the ancestral city, must have reached the level of a Celestial Venerate, though likely not the Leap-Venerate; otherwise, his demise was inexplicable.

Thus, it was likely that Ye Mo, too, was a Celestial Venerate in power. His twenty-seven stars were utterly coalesced, and he had survived all the Tribulations of Decay. This meant that a fully realized Ancient cultivator of this caliber was equivalent to a Celestial Venerate.

Such members of the Ancient race, he mused, were likely comparable in number to the Celestials, numbering no more than a thousand. Wang Lin alighted upon the prostrate arm of the Ancient Demon, vaulting upwards to stand upon its massive skull. His gaze fell upon the elder, whose face contorted in a mixture of fear and awe. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow as he reeled under the immense pressure of Wang Lin’s presence, instinctively retreating several paces.

His six companions fared no better, their faces drained of color as they stumbled backward.

“You hail from the Imperial City of the Dao Ancient?” Wang Lin spoke, his voice calm and measured. An aura of profound mastery emanated from him, swirling unseen, causing the elder’s mouth to turn dry and his heart to pound in his chest. He felt as though he stood before the Dao Ancient Emperor himself, though the Emperor’s power was born of an ancient, inherited right.

This man’s was born of his own intrinsic force.

“Y-yes… I am named Ye Hai, bestowed by the Dao Ancient Emperor himself. These past centuries, this marks my sixth journey to the land of the Ancient Beginning, seeking a consort for the Emperor,” the elder stammered, abandoning all attempts at resistance and bowing his head in deference.

“Centuries spent choosing a consort?” Wang Lin repeated, still finding the notion bizarre.

The elder offered a rueful smile, nodding slowly.

“Curious indeed. Have you found one yet?” Wang Lin inquired casually.

“Prince Ji Du has been our host, guiding us through six counties. We have selected three maidens already and were about to depart from this Black Stone City with a final one before returning to the Dao Ancient Imperial City,” the elder replied, eager to appease. As he spoke, he raised his right hand, striking the Ancient Demon beneath him with a distant blow.

The colossal beast shuddered, and a ripple shimmered atop its head. Two maidens of exceeding beauty stepped forth, their eyes wide with trepidation. They bowed low before Wang Lin.

“These two are among those chosen this time,” the elder said respectfully.

“Since you come from the Dao Ancient, grant me a map to the Imperial City,” Wang Lin commanded, his gaze sweeping over the maidens before returning to the elder.

The elder hesitated momentarily before producing a jade slip and handing it to Wang Lin with a bow.

Accepting the slip, Wang Lin glanced over it. His business here concluded, he turned to leave. The prince held no sway over him.

“Venerable One, stay your steps!” the prince called out, his form blurring as he appeared before Wang Lin. He bowed deeply, his expression sincere.

“I am Ji Du. For my prior transgressions against you, I humbly beg your forgiveness and offer a chance to make amends.”

“Oh? And how will you do that?” Wang Lin asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The prince’s eyes lit up, and he clasped his hands in a respectful gesture.

“Please, Venerable One, allow me a moment to dispatch the Dao Ancient envoy, and I vow to satisfy you to your content.” After Wang Lin nodded, the prince issued an order to the gold-armored guard below.

“Bring forth the maiden Song Zhi and have her accompany the Dao Ancient envoy.”

The guard named Liang Yun acknowledged the order, and after a short while, a woman garbed in simple azure robes emerged from within the city gates. She was not a creature of breathtaking beauty, but an aura of pure innocence clung to her. As she stepped forward, she lifted her head, and at that precise moment, Wang Lin’s gaze met hers.

Their eyes locked across the distance.