A miasma arose, swirling like a grotesque, fungal bloom, its thunderous expansion swallowing the very sky. As it spread, the heavens grew dim, casting a creeping twilight upon the land.

From above, a weight of unimaginable power descended, pressing down upon all below. The earth itself trembled, as if possessed of a soul that quailed before this oppressive might.

Within the princely palace, aside from Prince Ji Du, stood his legion of guards. Each possessed no small measure of the ancient tribal power, and some had even ascended to Sainthood, bearing the mark of twenty-seven stars. Yet, as the crushing aura fell, these thousand warriors blanched, their bodies convulsing, faint cracks echoing from within as they struggled to withstand the force.

“What arcane art has he cultivated these hundred years, to unleash such a dominion?” exclaimed the purple-robed noble within the hall, his face contorted in alarm. Even his considerable cultivation struggled against the suffocating presence.

The lady present was rendered utterly immobile, pinned to her seat, beads of sweat tracing paths down her brow.

Prince Ji Du, however, was filled with a frenzied excitement. He had dared not disturb Wang Lin during his century of seclusion, even weathering life-threatening storms alone. But now, the end was near. He recognized within this overwhelming force the unmistakable essence of his sworn brother, Wang Lin.

The swirling mist above continued its tumultuous dance, birthing an ethereal vision – a nascent sun, blazing crimson, within its heart. The sun’s spectral form radiated with incandescent light, and as that light expanded, the surrounding mists recoiled, the thunderous echo of their retreat shaking the very foundations. The miasma engulfed all, spreading without end.

From afar, the entire principality where Prince Ji Du’s palace resided lay imprisoned within the swirling fog. Countless members of the ancient tribes trembled, helpless against the oppressive power that held them as if frozen in time.

Those thousand guards within the palace suffered most of all, their hearts flooded with primal dread.

Inside the grand hall, the purple-robed noble was drenched, his raiment clinging to his skin, his face ashen. He had once stood before the Celestial Sovereign Song, but never had he known such terror. His very existence hung by a thread, subject to the whim of this encroaching power.

Whispers of the enigmatic Wang Lin, from a century past, surged through his mind, obliterating any hint of disrespect. He now saw him as a being capable of rivaling even Celestial Sovereign Song!

As the oppressive force spread, shrouding the entire principality, far away, beyond the Imperial City of the Ancient Clans, stood a soaring peak crowned with a horn-shaped summit that seemed to pierce the firmament.

This was the Primal Mountain, and upon its horned peak rested the Ancestral Hall – the most sacred ground of the Ancient Clans, second only to their ancestral shrine, a place where the arcane arts were taught.

Though typically bustling with supplicants, today, the Primal Mountain radiated an immense pressure, preventing all from setting foot upon its slopes.

Upon the opposite horn, a man sat cross-legged, clad in robes of verdant green, his hair flowing to his waist. He gazed into the distance, his expression etched with concern.

Behind him stood a younger man, his features coarse and almost feral, though now those bestial traits were masked by astonishment. He too stared into the distance.

His cultivation would normally be too weak to sense the power emanating from afar, but standing behind his master, he could perceive it through some mystic conduit.

“Master…” the younger man breathed, swallowed his words as he saw his master’s grim visage.

“Who else could it be, but Wang Lin? The one who ravaged the palace of the Dao Clan, slew the Dao Sovereign a century ago, and sought sanctuary with your brother, the prince, and has remained secluded ever since!” The man’s eyes glinted with a cold light.

The younger man, upon hearing the name Wang Lin, drew a sharp breath. After a moment of silence, he spoke, “Master has never named me as heir…could it be because of this man?”

The elder snorted. “I saw Wang Lin once, long ago when his master, Xuan Luo, brought him here. His cultivation was not weak, his battle prowess considerable, but not enough to warrant my attention! He survived the assault on the Dao Palace because Xuan Luo chose not to intervene! Yet, after his slaying of the Dao Sovereign, the Dao Celestial Sovereign has remained silent, a perplexing matter which stays my hand in choosing a future sovereign!

“It is not this man I fear, but the thoughts of the Dao Celestial Sovereign! As for Wang Lin himself, he is of little concern!” The man, the Celestial Sovereign Song, guardian of the Ancient Clans, surveyed the distant pressure and spoke deliberately. The younger man at his side was Prince Dong Man.

The prince breathed a sigh of relief, and then hesitantly asked, “Master, Wang Lin’s cultivation must surely have progressed from a century ago, if he is capable of unleashing such a pressure.”

The elder did not answer, but the pupils of his eyes constricted almost imperceptibly. After a long pause, he finally spoke.

“He is fusing with his true form! And it is no ordinary form. The union is arduous. He chose to undergo this transformation within my realm, without informing me. He must feel he is above me. And since he has involved himself in the struggle for the Ancient Sovereign, perhaps it is time I taught him a lesson.” Though he had said he feared the thoughts of the Dao Celestial Sovereign, he was still a Celestial Sovereign, and he was the protector of the Ancient Clans. Within his domain, he had the right to deal with any perceived threat.

With a flash of cold anger in his eyes, he raised his right hand, formed a seal, and pointed in the direction of Wang Lin’s oppressive aura.

“Unseal!” he murmured, and a spectral light emanated from his hand.
At that selfsame hour, upon the ancestral lands of the Ancient Ones, at the heart of the Three Confluences, atop the Mount of a Thousand Steps, from the pinnacle of its soaring tower, a spectral figure wreathed in mists awoke from meditation. His eyes, veiled in shadow, turned towards the direction of the First Ancient.

“A union of true forms?” The phantom rasped, his voice like the whisper of wind through ancient stones. His tone was devoid of emotion, revealing neither pleasure nor wrath.

Within the province sheltering the Ketu Palace of the First Ancient, as mists surged and roiled across the heavens, a strange transformation occurred above the palace. Where the nascent dawn had been, the sky shifted, the mist seethed, and darkness began to consume the light.

Nine times, day and night battled within the swirling vapors, until at last, a soft sigh echoed from within the palace. With the sound’s resonance, the mists dissolved into a multitude of shimmering runes, each imbued with the raw power of ancient seals.

Hours crawled by. The runes multiplied, the clash of day and night grew more frantic, yet the fusion remained incomplete. Instability manifested. The light weakened, threatening to collapse into shadow, while the very runes themselves seemed on the verge of disintegration.

Suddenly, a piercing roar rent the air. Five radiant beams erupted from the palace, their forms indistinct. Yet, as they converged in the heavens, the five became one, coalescing into a spectral figure.

The apparition mirrored Wang Lin himself!

But it was not his true form, but his Five Elemental Avatar. Standing against the sky, it was initially no larger than a man, ethereal and translucent. Then, with a mighty inhalation, the heavens thundered. Limitless celestial power rushed towards him, swallowed in a single gulp. The avatar swelled, growing in an instant to a hundred fathoms tall!

This celestial power was none other than the essence of the Five Elements.

The hundred-fathom titan did not pause. He inhaled again, and the earth trembled, the glimmer of celestial fire flickered, rain wept from the clouds, vegetation withered, and the golden essence of the world stirred, all drawn into the avatar’s gaping maw.

With deafening booms, the figure swelled again, becoming a giant a thousand fathoms tall! Standing astride the land, the thousand-fathom Five Elemental Avatar stretched out his arms. The essence of the Five Elements swirled around him, stabilizing the chaotic dance of day and night, preventing the runes from dissolving into nothingness.

But just as the seal, the Primordial, and the Extinction essences were brought under control, a bestial, savage howl echoed from the depths of the province.

The roar was filled with madness, a terrifying force that caused the First Ancient clansmen of the region to tremble in fear.

Within the palace, Prince Ketu shuddered, coughing up blood, his eyes wide with shock.

“It is Luo Mian!”

The purple-robed youth paled. The name “Luo Mian” conjured a forbidden rumor surrounding Prince Ketu. Whispers claimed his birth had been accompanied by omens of great misfortune, shadows that the royal family had concealed, dispelled only by the court’s dying mage.

Few knew the truth, but in the past century, the whispers had returned to the First Ancient clan.

It was said that Prince Ketu had chosen to build his palace in Luo Mian province precisely because the land was used to seal a monstrous beast defeated by the Ancient Ancestor himself – the beast Luo Mian!

Here, Ketu could suppress Luo Mian and nourish his own destiny. This was the final act of the mage, performed before his own demise.

The howl grew louder, until a colossal shadow materialized in the distant sky. It was a spherical mass of flesh, dominated by a single, gargantuan eye filled with savage madness. The entire form was spectral, yet it stared intently at the Five Elemental Avatar and the swirling essences above the palace. In its monstrous gaze, a flash of ravenous hunger flickered.

The spherical mass was Luo Mian!