A finger of Oblivion, coalescing into a streak of midnight, cleaved through the heavens. Around it, arcane ripples shimmered into being, each etched with crackling glyphs of raw, untamed power. The air itself groaned under the strain, the glyphs spitting forth miniature bolts of lightning, their thunder a prelude to the storm to come.

The sound spiraled outwards, growing into a deafening roar that shook the very fabric of existence, a celestial drumbeat announcing the arrival of devastation. And within the inky heart of the Oblivion Finger, a swirling vortex of raw thunder, an echo of the wrath of the heavens themselves.

The finger lashed out, and the aura surrounding Huan Dong, a mere mortal defense, shattered without resistance. His face turned ashen, and he recoiled, his heart pounding with a primal fear. This was no ordinary spell; its power dwarfed his understanding, his cultivation proving utterly inadequate against its might.

But the obsidian finger had become a black dragon, a scion of chaos, spitting forth tendrils of lightning as it lunged after the fleeing Huan Dong.

Desperate, Huan Dong plunged a hand into his pouch of holding, summoning forth a golden blade. With a rapid incantation, his fingers tracing patterns of power upon the metal, he roared, “Golden Dominion!”

The golden sword, bathed in an incandescent light, hurtled towards the approaching darkness.

A cataclysmic collision ripped through the air, the golden sword shattering, piece by agonizing piece, under the onslaught of the Oblivion Finger. Like a phantom, the ebony energy knifed through the void, reaching Huan Dong in the blink of an eye. In a final, desperate act, he pressed his palms together, channeling the last of his will into a meager shield.

A thunderous clap echoed, and Huan Dong’s body convulsed, a torrent of blood erupting from his lips. He was hurled backwards like a comet, trails of spectral lightning dancing upon his form. With each pulse, his wounds deepened, tendrils of the rogue electricity weaving through his very essence, tormenting his spirit with agonizing jolts.

His face, devoid of all color, was a mask of abject terror.

“What sorcery is this?!” he gasped. “What manner of being am I facing? A single spell… it has broken me. This one is not of Ranyun! I must flee, warn the Lady!” With frantic urgency, he struck his thighs, arcane symbols flashing into existence, propelling him faster than the eye could follow. His body began to dissolve into the void, a desperate attempt to slip between worlds, to escape the nightmare that stalked him.

Before, in the days when Wang Lin’s cultivation had just reached the Ascendant realm, his spells were strong enough to take on someone in the middle stages. The power difference between those stages and the later ones was so great that he could do nothing but defend himself.

But now, though his cultivation had not yet left the initial stages, he was getting closer and closer to the middle. He would only need to sharpen his Dao, and he could surpass this barrier.

And with this, taking Huan Dong’s life would be as easy as turning his hand.

Seeing his prey attempt to escape, Wang Lin’s eyes grew dark with intent. When one takes coin, it is their duty to ease another’s worries. The world is a complex place, where right and wrong are not so simple.

With a flick of his wrist, the Seven-Star Sword Array materialized, seven streaks of celestial light tearing through the sky. Forged by the legendary Sword Saint Ling Tianhou, the array was a weapon of immense power, far beyond the comprehension of mere mortals. The seven swords blazed after Huan Dong, reaching him just as his form fully dissolved into the void. Upon each blade, the spectral visages of the Seven Sinister Spirits materialized, their forms merging into a single, monstrous entity. With a guttural roar that shattered the eardrums, the entity’s colossal claws tore through the fabric of reality.

A sound like breaking glass shattered the silence. From within the void, Huan Dong’s eyes widened in horror as the entity’s claws dragged him back into existence. The seven swords hovered around him, their tips glowing with lethal energy, poised to strike at the slightest provocation, ready to obliterate his body and spirit.

From Huan Dong’s arrival to his capture, only a few heartbeats had passed. Elder Ran sucked in a ragged breath. Though he had known Wang Lin’s power, witnessing it firsthand filled him with a fresh wave of awe.

He saw then that Wang Lin was not only capable of such simple methods as the dark shadow from before, he possessed many other kinds of frightening arts that could be used at will.

He vowed to himself that never, for the rest of his days, would he antagonize Wang Lin.

The terror within Xiaoyao Sanren was even deeper than that of Elder Ran. He stared at the Seven-Star Sword Array, taking a deep breath. Within his heart, he had no doubt. If Wang Lin wished to slay him, he would not survive.

“His cultivation… it must be the peak of Ascendant!”

Sun Xi, on the other hand, remained calm. He had always held Wang Lin’s power in high regard, and his heart was even filled with gladness. “The stronger this Xu Mu is, the closer I should get to him.”

Huan Dong’s scalp crawled with dread. The swords, hovering just inches from his skin, were like the blade of Damocles, ready to fall at any moment. He glared at Wang Lin, then at the three elders, his voice edged with barely concealed desperation. “Ran Xuefeng, Sun Xi, Zhao Chuanwen! Do you seek your own destruction?”

The three elders remained silent, their eyes glinting with a chilling light.

Seeing this, Huan Dong’s heart sank. “I come on behalf of my clan!” he roared. “Even if you kill me, others will follow! Can you truly extinguish the Phantom Clan? To stand against us is suicide! Release me, and I shall plead for leniency on your behalf!”

Though his words were directed at the elders, his gaze flickered towards Wang Lin, betraying the true source of his fear. He searched his mind, desperately trying to piece together the enigma of this terrifying stranger.

Elder Ran hesitated, but quickly quashed the doubt that had arisen. “Huan, my friend, what brings you to our humble star?”

Huan Dong locked eyes with Elder Ran, then swept his gaze across the other two elders, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “So, it was you who murdered my clansmen four years ago! Ran Xuefeng, Sun Xi, Zhao Chuanwen, your bloodlines are doomed!”

A shadow of rage darkened Elder Ran’s face. He turned to Wang Lin, bowing respectfully. “Brother Xu, shall we leave this one to our care?”

Wang Lin, his expression unchanging, merely nodded.
“Xu! Who in the heavens are you, that you dare meddle in the affairs of the Illusory Clan!” Huan Dong roared, his gaze like a viper fixed upon Wang Lin. “Friend Xu,” he pleaded, his voice laced with desperate urgency, “Our Ancestor has returned! Do you truly believe you can stand against such power? Release me, and I swear upon my very essence that I will not utter your name to the Young Mistress, nor shall this matter ever entangle you!”

Wang Lin regarded Huan Dong with a cool detachment. “The Illusory Clan’s Young Mistress, you say?”

Sun Xi, ever the opportunist, scurried forward. “Friend Xu, you may not be aware, but upon the Illusory Ancestor’s return, he brought with him a woman from the Alliance Star System. He has taken her as his adopted daughter, and soon, they shall perform the Blood Transfusion Ritual to alter her very lineage!”

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. “This Illusory Ancestor… what is his cultivation?”

Huan Dong felt a sliver of hope ignite within his breast. “The Ancestor has entered the Second Step of cultivation! Thousands of years ago, he had already attained the realm of Yin-Yang Void and Solid!”

Wang Lin’s lips curled into a sardonic smile as he glanced at the Ancestor of the Ran Clan and his two companions. His gaze, they perceived, held a touch of mockery, causing the Ran Ancestor to lower his head in shame.

“This one is yours to deal with,” Wang Lin stated, his voice devoid of emotion. “He is of no concern to Xu.” With a flick of his wrist, the Seven Star Sword, humming with celestial energy, danced within Huan Dong’s body, sealing his nascent soul. It then returned to Wang Lin’s side in a flash of silver.

“Xu has pressing matters to attend to. I shall return in several months!” He turned and strode away, his robes billowing in the ethereal breeze.

Despair washed over Huan Dong as he shrieked, “If you slay me, the Young Mistress will never forgive you! Huan Mei is the Ancestor’s sole disciple, and heir to the Illusory Clan!”

Wang Lin halted in his departure, slowly turning to face Huan Dong, his expression placid. “Huan Mei? What was her name before?”

Huan Dong sneered, “Release me, and I shall tell yo–” He was cut short. Wang Lin’s brow furrowed, and he unleashed a claw of pure spiritual force. Huan Dong was wrenched through the air, landing in Wang Lin’s grasp. His hand descended upon Huan Dong’s crown, and a crackle of arcane energy illuminated Wang Lin’s eyes. The shadow behind him snaked out, consuming Huan Dong’s entire being.

“Soul Search!”

Huan Dong’s cultivation, though at the middle stage of Soul Formation, still required Wang Lin to borrow the power of his celestial guardian to scour his mind.

Huan Dong’s memories, like shattered shards of glass, were dissected by Wang Lin’s divine sense. As Wang Lin delved deeper, Huan Dong’s body convulsed, his eyes bulging with torment.

Suddenly, Wang Lin paused, his consciousness fixated on the memory of an exquisitely beautiful woman. A chilling darkness descended upon Wang Lin’s face. He released Huan Dong, and with a single strike, Huan Dong’s flesh crumbled into dust. Wang Lin seized the nascent soul and flung it into the Soul Banner within his spatial bag.

This abrupt act left the Ran Ancestor and his companions stunned, each contemplating the event with growing unease.

“Liu Mei…” Wang Lin murmured, his brow furrowed. The scenes of his past on Vermilion Bird Star flooded his mind, including the events within the Vermilion Bird Tomb.

“So, she received an opportunity beyond reckoning and arrived in this Roaming Heaven Starfield…” Wang Lin mused. After a long silence, he lifted his gaze to the heavens. Without another word, he resumed his journey.

The Ran Ancestor and his companions dared not impede him, watching helplessly as Wang Lin’s figure vanished into the distance.

Escaping the layer of astral winds, Wang Lin retrieved his Star Compass from his spatial bag. Guiding him, it transformed into a silver dragon, disappearing into the starry void.

Upon the dragon’s back, Wang Lin sat in meditative repose, muttering to himself, “Liu Mei… she harbors a deep-seated animosity toward me. If she knows her place, then well and good. But if she proves as troublesome as she was on Vermilion Bird Star, I may have no choice but to end her. As for the Illusory Ancestor, I have no desire for a pointless battle to the death. If he intervenes, with my celestial guardian at my side, I can simply depart! Moreover, I am but a solitary soul, while he commands an entire clan. I may not be able to defeat him outright, but I can certainly slay some of his kin as recompense.”

Having made his decision, Wang Lin ceased to dwell on the matter of Liu Mei and focused on the starmap within his mind, setting a course directly for the Azure Cloud Star.

“The Golden Flame Veins on Azure Cloud Star are of paramount importance to me, a catalyst for the fulfillment of the Heavenly Jewel. I shall not allow anyone to obstruct me in this matter! Whoever dares to contest it will face my wrath!” His eyes gleamed with an icy determination as he cut through the cosmos.

Without pause, Wang Lin pressed on with relentless speed, following the starmap with unwavering precision. A month later, Azure Cloud Star materialized within his spiritual perception.