“Lies! No mortal can cleave the veil ‘twixt Hollow Realms and Immortal Domains, nor conjure such a maelstrom to snare the divine essence of a Grand Empyrean! Lies, I say! Think not to deceive me, old fool!” Crimson Soul bellowed, his eyes bloodshot and wild.

His visage twisted in a grotesque mask, veins pulsing upon his brow. Fear, once a master of his heart, was now forgotten, shattered by the impossible spectacle unfolding before him, his very sanity teetering on the brink.

“Lies! All lies, I tell you! Ha! It must be! Wang Lin, I was once the companion of Luo Ming, guard to the Immortal Emperor himself! I saved his life, did I not? He was confidant to the Emperor…” Crimson Soul, hair dishevelled and plastered to his sweat-slicked face, cackled, clinging to these words as a drowning man to a splinter of wood.

“Oh? Lies, you say? Perhaps I cannot yet seize the very soul of the Immortal Emperor, but I can grant you a glimpse of his shattered remnants.” With a flick of Wang Lin’s wrist, the celestial vortex vanished, the oppressive aura of Dao Yi dissipated like smoke. Yet, within the Dao Yi Sect of the Immortal Domains, Dao Yi himself trembled, acutely aware of his own frailty in the face of Wang Lin’s might.

“Behold, is this also a lie?” Wang Lin’s voice was calm, yet with each word, the sky behind him blazed with a tri-colored radiance – ebony, ivory, and gold!

The colors coalesced into a majestic sun, and a wave of Grand Empyrean pressure surged forth from Wang Lin, washing over Crimson Soul.

Within this tri-colored sun, the tormented visage of Immortal Emperor Lian Daozhen materialized, twisted in agony, yet undeniably recognizable to any who had ever beheld him!

“Lies… all lies… all of it is lies… You too, are a Grand Empyrean? Ha! All lies! You cannot deceive me!” Crimson Soul muttered, his eyes vacant, devoid of focus.

As the Grand Empyrean aura expanded, Wang Lin’s power surged, reaching the very threshold of the Skyrending Realm. His presence alone could shatter a starfield, obliterate legions.

This overwhelming force was not scattered, but focused with pinpoint accuracy upon Crimson Soul, engulfing him. The man stood frozen, his mind a cacophony of madness, his laughter echoing the shrieks of the damned. In that instant, his physical form crumbled.

Crimson Soul had broken.

He could not comprehend the reality before him, dared not to acknowledge that he had sought to manipulate one who instilled fear in Dao Yi, had devoured the soul of an Immortal Emperor, one who himself was a Grand Empyrean. And that he had desired to sway the Grand Empyrean’s beloved, to claim the Grand Empyrean’s descendant as his own disciple.

That he had even sought to incite this very descendant to rebel against his ancestor!

Absurd! Utterly, irrevocably absurd!

He was shattered. His flesh dissolved, his spirit extinguished, yet such physical oblivion paled in comparison to the madness consuming his heart.

This death was far more cruel than mere annihilation. Wang Lin had not only destroyed his physical being, but his sanity and his very soul, dismantling him from the inside out, leaving nothing but ruin.

The day following this fateful battle, Wang Lin departed with Mu Bingmei, Thirteen, Xu Liguo, and others. Before leaving the Immortal Realm, he wove a new array of enchantments, so potent that none, save perhaps the resurrected Ancestor Immortals, could ever hope to breach it.

Even Gu Dao would fail.

As he departed, Wang Lin left behind fragments of his own Dao, his techniques and wisdom. He molded the very essence of the heavens and earth into mountains of elixirs, sowing the seeds of future strength within the Immortal Realm. Perhaps, in the ages to come, mighty warriors would rise, inheriting Wang Lin’s legacy.

With perfect defenses, an abundance of elixirs, and the inheritance of divine techniques, the Immortal Realm was now poised to flourish, free from the machinations of madmen like Crimson Soul.

Before his final farewell, Wang Lin shared a long, private audience with Lan Meng. None but they knew what was spoken that day. As Wang Lin departed, Lan Meng secluded herself in meditation.

Wang Lin travelled across the vast cosmos, returning to Vermillion Bird, where he meditated for days before his own statue. Then, alone, he left Vermillion Bird, first journeying to Heavenly Fate Star, now a ruin after the battles of old.

There, Wang Lin sought the entrance to the Spirit Beast Realm. Within those familiar lands, within Immortal Emperor Qing Lin’s dwelling, he restored the ancient abode and recovered the scroll he had sealed within the abyss. He released the woman within, allowing her to sink into the cycle of reincarnation.

The mystery surrounding the woman, once of great import, now mattered little to Wang Lin.

Wang Lin departed the Spirit Beast Realm and travelled throughout the four Great Star Domains, resolving lingering matters without seeking definitive answers, merely setting the past to rest.

Finally, he ventured beyond the borders of the Inner Realm and into the Outer Realm.

The first place Wang Lin visited was the Fallen Land. There, he beheld the Elder Vermillion Bird, who had once shown him kindness.

He saw many old acquaintances.

After several days, Wang Lin removed the enchantments that had bound the denizens of the Fallen Land, freeing them from their eternal prison. Before leaving, Wang Lin took the most treasured artifact of the Fallen Land: a single hand of a celestial compass.

His journey in the Outer Realm led him to many places. He encountered Scattering Spirit, a friend whose journey had resonated with him.

Likewise, on a remote world within the Outer Realm, Wang Lin encountered an infant.

The infant’s body was immersed within the core of the planet, as if in slumber. His visage bore a striking resemblance to Tosen. Though Wang Lin did not know all, he suspected that Tosen was perhaps Tu Si, practicing some hidden art.

An art that required the body to revert to infancy, to begin its journey anew.
Upon that distant sphere, Wang Lin watched over the babe, until, after several suns had risen and set, he deemed the time had come to depart. Yet, ere he left, he bequeathed a strand of his divine will to Torsen, a fragment that would stir within the child’s soul when it had grown and awakened to the world.

For Wang Lin, the Realm of the Caves held no more secrets, save perhaps for the enigmatic Celestial Fortune, and the mysterious Seven Colors. Yet, the traces of these two had long vanished from the Caves, leaving only echoes in the winds.

Wang Lin journeyed far and wide, and when a year had spun its course, he returned to Vermillion Bird Star, to the home of his birth.

Here lay a final, veiled mystery, awaiting Wang Lin’s unraveling. In his youth, he lacked the strength to seek it out, and before his departure from the Caves, he was lost in confusion and dread for the future, leaving him no time to attend to it.

But now, standing once more upon Vermillion Bird Star, Wang Lin sought the Sea of Cultivated Demons, and the ancient gateway to the lands of the Old Gods.

The Land of the Old Gods, though shattered and collapsed by Torsen’s leave, still held a remnant, a space that had endured since time immemorial. Wang Lin stepped into that place, and within the ruins of that sacred ground, he found the Ji Qiong beast.

This beast, in ages past, had devoured a fragment of Wang Lin’s spirit, and sprouted a head that mirrored Wang Lin’s own visage.

But when Wang Lin found it, the beast had perished countless years ago, leaving only a skeleton of bone and ash. Wang Lin stood beside the remains, silent for a long while, his gaze fixed upon one among the multitude of skulls that adorned the creature.

It was a skull of human form, yet no larger than a clenched fist. Gazing upon it, Wang Lin’s face clouded with confusion. Within his storage pouch, he carried another skull, an exact twin to this one.

He brought it forth, and as the two skulls lay side-by-side, one of them dissolved into motes of ethereal light, vanishing into the void.

Wang Lin recognized it. It was the skull he had taken from Dao Yi.

Dimly, a glimmer of understanding sparked within Wang Lin’s mind, yet it flickered and faded, elusive and just out of grasp.

“If indeed there is reincarnation, then when past and present meet, the past will wane, ceasing to exist… Leaving only the present…” Wang Lin murmured, his fingers tracing the contours of the skull.

He carefully stowed the skull away, his heart lighter yet filled with trepidation. As he sensed a growing knowledge of his own nature, he felt a chilling dread for this tiny skull, a fear born not of the object itself, but of its coming. He had once hesitated, wondering if reincarnation was true, might this skull…belong to Wang Ping?

Now, he had an answer.

With the skull secure, Wang Lin turned and strode out of the Old Gods’ crumbling domain.

“The Daogu Councilor, kin to Celestial Fortune, once spoke of my having found the skull and the white hair… Now the skull has changed. Does that mean one day, the strand of white hair will also shift, like the skull?” Wang Lin pondered in silence, as he left that place.

Years passed, a decade in their wake.

Xu Liguo, his seal long broken, had tasted freedom once more. Unable to contain his triumphant homecoming, he and Liu Jinbiao departed a decade ago, their destination unknown.

The Sea Dragon accompanied them, ensuring that those two would suffer no harm in the Realm of the Caves, able only to bully others without fear of retribution.

Before leaving, Liu Jinbiao solemnly vowed to Xu Liguo that he would pursue the ultimate path of deception, but felt that their partnership lacked a certain something, and needed another to join them for ultimate perfection.

Xu Liguo agreed, and they set their sights on Zhong Dahong, filled with nostalgic fondness for the man.

Thus, they set their first course to find Zhong Dahong.

Shi San, as ever steadfast, had not left Vermillion Bird Star. He remained there, secluded in eternal meditation, awaiting his master’s awakening, and standing guard as his protector.

His cultivation had advanced in these ten years, primarily because he was taught Wang Lin’s full Dao, nearly all of his divine abilities.

Besides his lack of progress in comprehending the Void origin, Shi San had already manifested all five elements.

Most especially, Shi San seemed to have an astounding talent for the Eight Extremes Dao, an art he grasped with remarkable depth.

Shi San was not alone in guarding Wang Lin. The King of Mosquitoes, a beast of immense power, ruled as a veritable overlord of Vermillion Bird Star. Each time it emerged, it caused a stir among the planet’s cultivators.

Some had attempted to capture it, but after experiencing its might and realizing the vast chasm between them, most had learned to avoid it, daring not to provoke it.

The Mosquito did not harm people, and from time to time it would even leave Vermillion Bird Star to frolic among the stars. As time passed, the cultivators of Vermillion Bird Star grew accustomed to its presence.

As for Wang Lin and Mu Bingmei, ten years ago they had entered a cavern within a mountain, and there, Wang Lin had woven the Dream Dao, drawing Mu Bingmei into a resolution of the heart knots and barriers of Liu Mei.

Perhaps, with the resolution of Liu Mei’s burdens, the bond between Wang Lin and Mu Bingmei would be forever changed.

Time flowed onward, and another decade drifted by.

The cultivators of Vermillion Bird Star knew nothing of the legendary Wang Lin’s return to his homeland. They only knew that twenty years ago, a mountain was claimed by a cold and aloof cultivator, becoming a forbidden place.

There, no one was permitted to set foot. One trespass would warrant a warning, but the second meant death! (To be continued…)