“Silence!” Wang Lin commanded, his eyes flashing, as he gazed upward, beyond the shimmering barrier. There, the spectral echo of a severed hand hung, its form coalescing as it watched them with unnerving focus.

“The barrier weakens, its strands near severance. Unleash the seal’s power, O Seawind Celestial, and weave its collapsing energies around us both! We must shatter this prison and flee with the swiftness of the gale.

“And in that flight, we shall unleash our most potent arts. Doubtless, you surmise that your esteemed Master is already here, awaiting our arrival!” Wang Lin transmitted telepathically to the Seawind Celestial beside him, his gaze never leaving the blurred image beyond the collapsing light.

The Seawind Celestial remained silent for a moment, then softly assented, “I understand.”

Wang Lin inhaled deeply, inadvertently drawing in the Celestial’s fragrance, a scent like orchids in the sea breeze. He allowed himself no pause for discomfort, his eyes hardening with resolve.

The Seawind Celestial’s hands danced in intricate gestures, forming a mystic seal. With a sudden thrust, she pointed a finger skyward, towards the fragile barrier.

The light barrier shuddered with a deafening roar. Countless hairline fractures, already spider-webbed across its surface, abruptly gave way. Fragments exploded outward, a cascade of scintillating shards that engulfed Wang Lin and the Seawind Celestial, propelling them with violent force.

Seizing this sudden momentum, Wang Lin and the Seawind Celestial transformed into twin streaks of vibrant light, tearing through the collapsing barrier. As they hurtled outward, the Seawind Celestial obeyed Wang Lin’s command, her hands weaving a new seal. A luminous, ovoid glyph shimmered into existence, containing the accumulated power of over ninety profound techniques.

This glyph struck the spectral hand, now fragmented and flickering, as it reformed from the collapsing barrier. The impact reverberated with earth-shattering force, as if the very fabric of nothingness was being rent asunder. The spectral hand recoiled, its form disintegrating into wisps of ethereal energy. Yet, with unsettling resilience, these wisps began to converge once more, attempting to reconstruct the severed extremity.

Far above, within the ethereal realm of the Southern Continent, three figures hovered unseen. They observed the events unfolding below, cloaked from mortal senses. Even should a cultivator approach, neither spiritual perception nor keenest sight could penetrate the veil that concealed them.

One was a youthful figure clad in a Daoist robe, his raven hair flowing freely. His features were striking – sharp brows, eyes that seemed to hold the vastness of the cosmos. Though appearing to be in his twenties, an ancient weariness clung to him, and his calm was absolute. The very air around him seemed to stand still, the heavens themselves bowing in silent reverence.

He was Dao Yi, the Great Celestial.

A few paces away stood another figure, a man of immense stature, towering over Dao Yi by a head. Clad in simple homespun, his hands were clasped behind his back. He was bald, yet this was no blemish, but a mark of his unique aura. His features were rugged, unhandsome, yet they evoked a sense of untamed power, like a celestial storm. His eyes, when they flickered, held a terrifying power that seemed to make the very earth tremble beneath him.

One who gazed upon him would forget all else, remembering only the earth-shattering power held within his gaze! His demeanor was one of calm authority.

An inexplicable presence emanated from him, the zenith of martial prowess, the ultimate expression of the Dao. It spoke of one who had forged the Dao through martial might, shattered the celestial bonds, and ascended to the ranks of the Great Celestials.

And further, it spoke of one who, upon becoming a Great Celestial, had sealed his martial path, embracing the unadorned truth and merging with the universe itself. Thus, he was known as Wu Feng, the Martial Seal.

Whereas all around Dao Yi was stilled, the wind tugged at the loose threads of Wu Feng’s hair and set his simple clothing to dancing, as if the younger celestial’s power had no hold on him.

Beside these two stood the third figure, an elderly man clad in a simple blue robe. His appearance was unremarkable, like that of a common cultivator. His posture was slightly stooped, his face etched with wrinkles, and his eyes lacked luster. He seemed frail and weary. Yet, he remained unmoved by Dao Yi’s aura of stillness or Wu Feng’s awe-inspiring presence, as if oblivious to them both.

“Jiudi, your disciple has escaped,” Dao Yi said with a faint smile, turning to the stooped figure. Despite the elder’s unassuming appearance, Dao Yi knew that Jiudi was the longest-lived of the five Celestial Clan Great Celestials, a figure said to have existed even in the days of the Ancestor of Immortals.

He had once been known as Jiudi, or Nine Emperors, possessed of exceptional grace and power. But after undergoing countless reincarnations, he had succeeded on his ninth attempt, and Nine had become Long.

“If not for your wishes, my disciple would have escaped long ago,” Jiudi replied, his voice slow and measured.

“The matter is of no concern to me. I find Wang Lin quite interesting,” Dao Yi said, shaking his head with a smile.

“I, too, hold him in high regard, yet his origins bear closer scrutiny. The seal here shall serve as a means to test him,” Wu Feng said.

“Xuan Luo visited the Celestial Clan long ago. So long as this one has no connection to him, all is well,” Dao Yi said, glancing down at the mountains and seas below.

Suddenly, Dao Yi let out a soft exclamation of surprise. Not only him, but also Wu Feng, the Martial Seal, narrowed his eyes, as well. And the blue-robed old man revealed a flicker of astonishment.

Below, a darkness spread like ink across the Southern Continent, and beneath the inky depths, the endless seafloor fell away to a black pit. Within, the Mountain Sea Tree was ringed by the same seal that held Wang Lin, and now violent booming sounded from its heart.

It was the Seawind Celestial, unleashing her power. As her ovoid glyph clashed against the severed hand, Wang Lin raised his hands. The mark of the Celestial Bull Spirit spread across his face and consumed his entire body, boosting his cultivation to new heights. Donning his spirit armor, he unleashed his most powerful technique!

“Great Celestials are surely watching. Wu Feng, Dao Yi, perhaps even Jiudi! If one of you desires to see the measure of Wang Lin, to see the truth of my origins, then I shall show it to you with perfect clarity!”
Wang Lin, with a sudden surge of power, raised his right hand, the gesture a catalyst for the impossible.

In that single sweep, the fabric of reality groaned. The inky void above transformed, a sound like the endless crash of unseen waves echoing through the abyss. Where nothing existed, a vast, nocturnal ocean materialized, its horizon ignited by the nascent glow of a rising sun.

As the nascent sun ascended, tendrils of golden light unfurled across the cosmos, each ray a blade cleaving the darkness. The night itself recoiled, vanquished by the radiant dawn.

And within the heart of that newborn sun stood Wang Lin.

His eyes were closed, but as the golden light expanded, tearing the veil of night, they snapped open.

At that precise moment, the boundless radiance emanating from the rising sun pulsed with something more – with conviction, with belief. This was Wang Lin’s own unwavering faith, imbuing the ancient sun technique with the power of sacred conviction.

“You wished to see it? Then witness!” he declared, his eyes blazing with light.

“I believe that all darkness will be banished!”

“I believe that light will pierce the night and illuminate the world!”

“I believe that all who oppose me will crumble into dust!”

With each word, the celestial light exploded outward, tearing through the oppressive darkness, piercing the illusionary form of the severed hand. The spectral limb, newly coalesced, shattered under the assault, a shower of ethereal sparks scattering into the void. Though its form was dimmed and weakened, it was not destroyed, and the fragments began to swirl, hinting at a dreadful reformation.

The light, now an ocean of luminescence, surged outwards, not only obliterating the shadows but also rending the very fabric of the Mountain-Sea Tree’s inner void. The tree itself began to glow, each branch and leaf illuminated with the intensity of a thousand suns.

The golden light spilled from the Mountain-Sea Tree, breaching ancient seals and piercing through the void towards the heavens above. It bypassed the swirling vortex of oblivion, erupting from the depths of the seabed, and wherever its touch fell, the inky water turned to pure, shimmering crystal.

It burst through the surface, cleaving the black ink that stained the waves, and shot skyward, an impossible dawn painting the heavens, directly into the astonished gazes of Dao Yi, Wu Feng, and Jiu Di.

“A faith-based art!” Dao Yi, the Celestial Sovereign, gasped, his eyes widening with disbelief.

“Such conviction, from a mere Celestial!” Wu Feng, the Celestial Sovereign, muttered, his expression hardening with a predatory gleam.

The old man in the azure robes merely frowned, raised a hand, and pointed towards the sea below. It was a simple gesture, devoid of flourishes or arcane power, as ordinary as a commoner pointing a finger.

Yet, as the golden light lanced through the water, a deafening roar shook the very heavens. The ocean boiled, churning with unprecedented fury, and coalesced into a colossal, watery finger, which plunged down towards the depths.

With a flash, Wang Lin emerged from the sea, paying no heed to the three Celestial Sovereigns above. He transformed into a comet of light, streaking towards the horizon.

Hot on his heels was Hai Zi, but the ocean seethed behind him, a monstrous vortex giving birth to a colossal severed hand, rising to claw at the sky.

But before the spectral hand could strike, the watery finger slammed into it.

The resulting shockwave nearly shattered the heavens. The severed hand faltered, its advance arrested. Hai Zi, his face ashen, barely escaped the water.

A howl of unbridled rage echoed from the deep as the severed hand, pierced by the watery finger, plummeted back to the seabed. In the next instant, a terrifying aura erupted, and the severed hand became a phantom, roaring at the sky, its eyes burning with maddened fury. It had seen Dao Yi, Wu Feng, and Jiu Di, and now, abandoning Hai Zi, it surged towards them.

Its pride would not allow the indignity of such a casual assault.

The old man in azure robes stepped forward, placing himself between Hai Zi and the enraged phantom hand, and raised his own hand.

“Master…” Hai Zi said softly, glancing at the old man behind him. He then fixed his gaze on the fleeing form of Wang Lin, his expression a complex blend of admiration and regret.