In the celestial city of the Dao-Gu clan, a metropolis adrift in the azure sky, revelry held its reign. The air throbbed with music and mirth, a symphony of life amplified by the glow of countless lanterns. Peace, like a gilded mantle, cloaked the land, a testament to the dynasty’s power.

Yet, the clamor of celebration failed to reach the vicinity of the Dao-Gu Palace. The earth-shattering roar that echoed near its hallowed halls, though potent, was contained by the city’s vastness and the unique nature of the palace’s surrounding mountains.

Unbeknownst to the revelers, this night, the eve of the Dao-Gu Emperor’s grand wedding, would birth an event of earth-shattering magnitude. It would forever alter the fate of the Dao-Gu lineage, and send ripples across the ancient lands of the Gu tribe.

Innumerable clansmen from the three branches of the Dao-Gu family merrily imbibed, raising their cups in the lantern light. But as a low thunder began to rumble in the heavens, brows furrowed and eyes turned skyward. What they beheld struck a primal fear, sending chills down their spines and forcing them to their feet.

The music, a moment before so boisterous, faltered and died with each echoing peal.

Across the firmament, a streak of light, akin to a fallen star, tore through the heavens. With a roar that threatened to sunder the world, it flashed overhead, leaving in its wake tremors that shook the very ground. The sky rippled, as if some colossal arrow-fish had cleaved its way through a tranquil pond.

A palpable aura of bloodlust descended, chilling the souls of those clansmen unfortunate enough to be bathed in its shadow. Fear twisted their faces, an unspoken dread warning them of an impending doom.

In the sky, Wang Lin spied the radiant imperial palace. From the Dao-Gu Palace, he had traversed the distance in mere breaths, his speed akin to the legendary ‘Earth-Shrinking’ technique. Yet, the palace was guarded by powerful enchantments that disrupted the natural energies, preventing a direct, instantaneous arrival.

His gaze fixed upon the palace, and before his eyes danced the image of Li Muwan. A searing pain, like the sting of a thousand cuts, tore through his heart. A guttural roar, ripped from the depths of his being, escaped his lips, transforming him into a berserk warrior as he charged toward the palace.

But as he closed within a hundred leagues, hundreds of phantom figures materialized like wisps of smoke in the sky ahead. They coalesced into Dao-Gu Imperial Guards, clad in shimmering armor.

Below, a thunderous stampede erupted as thousands of Dao-Gu warriors emerged from the earth, positioned to form an impenetrable net around Wang Lin. From the horizon, reinforcements marched, forming a living wall, their intent clear: to deny him passage.

“It seems it is Lord Wang Lin.” From the ranks of the airborne phantoms, a single figure stepped forward. Recognition flashed in his eyes, followed by a chilling grimace.

“Were you not banished, Lord? Why do you trespass? Do you know…” His words were cut short by Wang Lin’s bestial bellow.

“Get out of my way! All who obstruct me shall die!” Wang Lin took a single step forward, transforming into a primal beast of unimaginable fury. With a single, thunderous strike, he unleashed a torrent of force that pulverized dozens before him. Their bodies exploded in a gruesome spectacle.

The opening act of a bloody ballet had begun, the first crimson droplets raining down, marking the stage for the carnage to come.

At that moment, nine streaks of light hurtled from the heavens behind Wang Lin, bearing the forms of Xuan Luo’s subordinates. Witnessing Wang Lin’s merciless assault, their faces paled.

“Inform the Emperor! Wang Chi… he intends to commit regicide!” The elder among them, despite his allegiance to Xuan Luo, found his devotion to the Imperial Throne overriding his loyalty. In that instant, he betrayed Xuan Luo’s command.

His words sent shockwaves through the ranks of the Imperial Guards. Already shaken by the force of Wang Lin’s initial attack, the proclamation ignited a righteous fury within them.

But it was too late. A deafening roar reverberated through the area, accompanied by the agonized cries of the dying. Wang Lin pressed onward, an unstoppable juggernaut. All who dared to stand in his path were reduced to shattered remnants.

The nine warriors of Xuan Luo, their faces twisted in a grimace, pursued Wang Lin, invoking some unknown art to intercept him.

For these nine, there was no question. Xuan Luo’s favor paled in comparison to the sacred right of the Emperor.

“You seek death!” Wang Lin had no desire to kill these nine, but their repeated obstruction had kindled his wrath. His eyes flared with murderous intent. His right hand rose, conjuring a colossal palm print before him – the Yiling Seal!

As the seal materialized, ninety-nine phantom images rippled across its surface. In a blink, more images coalesced, culminating in a hundred and twenty-one. They converged, merging into a unified whole, transforming the Yiling Seal. A sixth finger, a seventh, an eighth, a ninth… and finally, a tenth!

The ten-fingered palm print descended with the force of a collapsing mountain. The nine warriors, their faces twisted in agony, unleashed their own primal powers. Phantasmal forms manifested behind them, roaring in defiance. But as the palm slammed into them, a cataclysmic boom echoed toward the Imperial Palace.

Their desperate cries were swallowed by the earth-shattering roar. Their defenses shattered like glass. The mere touch of the palm print reduced their bodies to dust. All nine were obliterated.

The palm print, now drenched in gore, continued its relentless path, sweeping through the ranks of the Imperial Guards. None survived its touch, leaving a trail of carnage and blood-soaked earth.

Had this occurred in the Immortal Clan’s Imperial City, the remaining guards would have scattered, fleeing for their lives. But this was the land of the Gu, where the Imperial Throne was paramount. Driven by a fanatical devotion, the surviving guards, disregarding their own mortality, ignited their bloodlines and charged headlong into the path of the descending palm.

A hundred leagues away, within the Imperial Palace, the celebration raged on, oblivious to the impending doom. Laughter echoed, wine flowed freely, and dignitaries offered endless toasts to the Dao-Gu Emperor.

The Emperor, his face perpetually wreathed in a smile, occasionally roared with jovial laughter. Beside him sat Song Zhi, silent and contemplative, her head bowed, lost in thought.
A cruel amusement danced in the eyes of the Ancient Dao Emperor as he gazed upon the woman. It had been ages since he had felt such unbridled joy. He was nine parts certain: Wang Lin and that tattered soul were connected. The very air around Wang Lin before spoke of a bond far deeper than mere acquaintance, a bond akin to lovers intertwined.

This thought sent the Emperor into peals of laughter, each guffaw punctuated by a deep draught from his goblet. He relished the sensation, the vision of Wang Lin’s agony as he lavished attention upon his new Empress.

“Why were *you* granted Soulblood? *I* am the direct descendant of the Ancient Ancestor! Why were *you* taken as a disciple by Xuan Luo, while *I* pleaded and begged, only to be denied?

Why?! You are but a speck of dust from the Cave World, a vulgar and base creature. How dare you compare yourself to me, the favored son of the Heavens! And now you stand before me, within the very halls of my Ancient Dao Clan, refusing to kneel? Wang Lin, your audacity knows no bounds! You dare disregard me? I care not for your cultivation; within the Ancient Clan, you *will* kneel before me!

If you refuse, so be it. Tomorrow, after the ceremony, I shall take your Empress to my chambers and taste her delights!

He searches, desperate and blind. Little does he know, the woman he seeks is at my side, my Empress, my Queen!” The Emperor roared with laughter, draining his cup once more.

Observing their Emperor’s mirth, the assembled clans of the Grand Court and the platformed guests smiled and raised their own cups in a shared toast.

But before the wine could touch their lips, before the Emperor’s laughter could fully subside, a cataclysmic tremor echoed from beyond the palace walls!

Though muffled by distance, the sudden and jarring sound extinguished the festive atmosphere. Silence fell like a shroud as every eye turned towards the source of the disturbance.

However, arcane wards protecting the palace grounds restricted the use of Divine Sense. All they could discern was a swirling, chaotic energy, an aura of madness that repelled any prying gaze. Even the Emperor could not penetrate the veil.

“Fear not!” the Emperor declared, calmly sipping from his goblet.

His measured response calmed the assembled guests. They felt no immediate alarm. This was, after all, the Ancient Dao Imperial Palace, one of the three great centers of the Ancient Clan’s power. Its defenses were legendary. Surely, none could breach its walls and live.

The murmur of celebration slowly resumed, and the flow of flattery began anew.

Yet, as the tremors grew closer, a creeping unease stole through the assembled throng. None noticed the slight tremor that shook the Emperor’s hand as he set down his goblet, nor the furrow of his brow as he stared into the distance.

“Imperial Guard, attend!” the Emperor commanded, his voice laced with steel.

In response, the One Hundred and Eight Guardians rose as one, kneeling before the Emperor in perfect unison.

“Venture forth! Slay the disruptor and bring me his head!”

“As you command!” the Guardians replied in a chorus of voices that reverberated through the court. A chilling aura of death permeated the air.

Transforming into one hundred and eight streaks of vibrant light, the Guardians soared towards the palace gates!

“Escort the Empress to her chambers!” As the Guardians departed, the Emperor turned his attention back to Song Zhi. Two spectral figures emerged at her side, bowing in silent obedience.

Song Zhi rose, her gaze obscured by the beaded veil. She cast a distant glance towards the source of the tremors, the Emperor’s earlier words echoing in her mind: “Wan’er…”

“Have you no ears?” the Emperor snapped, his gaze icy and unforgiving.

Song Zhi flinched, fear etched on her face. She lowered her head and allowed the spectral figures to guide her towards the rear of the palace. But as they were about to depart, another earth-shattering explosion ripped through the air, this one so close that it felt as if the palace itself were about to crumble.

The Emperor whirled around, his face a mask of shock.

The One Hundred and Eight Guardians were hurled back towards the palace, each spewing blood. Their bodies disintegrated in mid-air, raining gore upon the court. Only one clung to life, crashing to the ground before the Emperor, his body broken. With a final, desperate gasp, he screamed a warning that shattered the silence of the Grand Court.

“It is Wang Lin! He seeks to slay the Emperor!”