The errant cultivators, drawn by the ethereal glow, remained distant specks of light, each separated by vast stretches of the celestial sea. Only those hailing from the same nascent star could perceive one another amidst the overwhelming emptiness.

Their gaze met naught but the solitary radiance emanating from their own forms, swallowed by the all-consuming blackness.

But then, a celestial phenomenon tore through the void. A thunderous comet, ablaze with the colors of the aurora, screamed past with a velocity that defied comprehension.

It struck with the force of a rogue star, brushing past several nearby monks, its concussive wake causing their protective auras to flicker and threaten to extinguish.

These brethren, bound by shared origins, gasped in unison. Yet, when they dared to refocus their gaze, only a fading glimmer remained in the distant reaches of the void.

The silence that followed was heavier than the darkness, punctuated only by hushed, bewildered whispers.

“What… what was that?” one murmured, his voice thick with awe and dread.

Within the heart of that celestial tempest, Wang Lin struggled against the impossible speed. He could not open his eyes against the raging winds of magic. His flesh writhed and pulsed, contorting into grotesque shapes as unseen forces played upon him.

He dared not unleash his spiritual senses, for fear they would be torn asunder by the velocity, exceeding the limits of their astral tether and permanently scarring his spirit.

His pace was relentless, the comet careening through the space between worlds, towards the fabled Gate of Thunder. First-time travelers, initially buoyed by anticipation, gaped in stunned silence as the monstrous streak of energy blazed past.

Even those of stoic countenance were momentarily rendered speechless.

The more seasoned, veterans of this perilous crossing, flinched as the comet grazed past, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and apprehension.

Under these conditions, few dared to extend their senses, and those who did found the elusive comet far too swift to be contained.

What lurked within that celestial tempest? This single question burned in the hearts of all who witnessed its passage, overshadowing their impending arrival at the Gate of Thunder.

At the edge of the void, beckoned the Gate to the Thunder Realm: a colossal, singular bolt of crimson lightning, so vast it defied mortal comprehension.

It arose from the unseen depths and dissolved back into the nothingness, a boundless river of energy, now devoid of the spark of life, like a mortal soul at the precipice of oblivion.

In the star realms, many legends told of this ethereal gate. The most widely accepted spoke of a time before portals, when the Thunder Realm was a boundless expanse of pure lightning, needing no formal entrance.

This crimson bolt, the legends claimed, was the coalesced essence of the Thunder Realm’s shattered soul, the remnant of a celestial cataclysm, now serving as the very gateway it once guarded.

Below this ominous gate, a handful of figures sat in meditative stillness, patiently awaiting its opening. Amongst them was Shen Gonghu.

These were not mere novices. Aside from the envoys of the Thunderous Halls, they were solitary practitioners, legends in their own right. In a region dominated by familial lineages, the lone wolf was a rare and formidable creature, possessing unparalleled skill and resilience.

Each of these individuals sat apart, lost in their own contemplations, their faces stern and impassive.

Occasionally, another traveler, drawn by the celestial currents, would arrive, their arrival a testament to their mastery of the arcane arts.

Those who knew one another would exchange brief greetings, perhaps sharing a fleeting moment of camaraderie before settling into solitary vigil.

Beside Shen Gonghu sat a man cloaked in azure robes, his face gaunt and ashen, yet his eyes burned with an icy, malevolent light.

“To think, the vaunted Shen Gonghu has taken a lord,” the man drawled, his voice laced with mockery. “Tang was slow to credit the rumors, but seeing your diminished essence, I am now convinced! A pity, a pity indeed!”

Shen Gonghu’s expression remained impassive. He cast a chilling glance at the man and replied calmly, “The sparrow knows not the eagle’s ambition. A knave cannot perceive a hero’s heart. You are not me, Tang Yanfeng!”

Tang Yanfeng’s eyes flashed with anger. He chuckled darkly. “Tang would indeed enjoy observing these famed ambition and heroics.”

Shen Gonghu remained silent, retreating into his thoughts. The last two decades had brought immense pressure upon him, pressure from his family, and the Thunderous Halls.

All stemmed from his fealty to Wang Lin. His clan had scorned his rash decision, and though Shen Gonghu held the position of envoy, he was no match for the authority of his elders.

And from the Thunderous Halls, there was now a subtle disavowal of his allegiance. Although nothing had been explicitly stated, Shen Gonghu could sense the change in the air, the widening distance between himself and his former peers.

Indeed, were it not for this decision, a man of his talents would not have had to travel to the entrance. He would have entered the Thunder Realm alongside the envoys, with a great advantage.

Despite all, Shen Gonghu felt not a flicker of regret. On the contrary, a fierce pride swelled within him. He knew he had not erred. This was the wisest decision of his life! His words to Tang Yanfeng were, in truth, aimed at the elders of his clan.
“Even the Clan Elders, shackled eternally to the Realm of Pristine Nirvana, unable to advance an inch! As for the legendary Third Step… a mere whisper on the wind! What right have they, then, to dictate the path of my life?” Shen Gonghu’s eyes blazed with fierce determination.

(The following passage continues this chapter. Seek onward for greater wonders!)

Tang Yanfeng scoffed. Shen Gonghu, first amongst their generation to become an Envoy of the Thunder Immortal Hall, now found himself humbled, lost down a wrong and winding road.

Suddenly, from the ethereal void, a blinding star erupted, accompanied by a cacophony of thunder that crashed like a raging storm.

Every cultivator present snapped their eyes open, searching the heavens. Tang Yanfeng was no different.

As their gaze locked onto the spectacle, the light swelled, hurtling towards them. The thunder roared with increasing ferocity, as the star, like a celestial dart, closed the distance at an impossible speed.

So swift was its descent that even the mighty cultivators, especially the wandering ascetics renowned for their power, scrambled to unleash their divine senses, desperately trying to discern the essence of the lightning comet.

But before any could truly grasp its nature, the blazing star-thunder descended with a deafening boom, unleashing a wave of raw power. Eyes widened, forced to behold the spectacle. Yet, defying all expectations, the thunderous projectile did not halt its descent. Instead, with renewed vigor, it shot past the assembled throng, aiming directly for the gate to the Thunder Immortal Realm! In stunned silence, they watched as the lightning star slammed against the massive, crimson-tinged thunder barrier. A muffled, resonant boom echoed, and the star-thunder vanished, swallowed by the crimson energy, disappearing beyond the veil.

“It… it went in?” One cultivator stammered, utterly bewildered.

He was not alone. Every soul present rose to their feet, transfixed by the sight of the lightning gate.

Never before had they heard tell of one who could penetrate the Thunder Immortal Realm before its appointed opening. This defied the very fabric of their understanding.

Tang Yanfeng stared, lost in disbelief. “What… what was that? How could it enter before the gate opened? Could it be… is it possible to enter even before?” He furrowed his brow in thought.

He was not alone in this contemplation, yet none dared to test the waters. Except for one. With a subtle tremor, a doppelganger emerged from behind a lone figure. The figure, with a single gesture, commanded the clone to soar forth, transforming into a streak of light, destined for the crimson thunder.

All eyes followed the daring act, but the clone, upon touching the crimson lightning, shuddered violently. It crumbled before their eyes, disintegrating at a terrifying pace! Simultaneously, a crimson tendril of lightning detached itself, veering towards the summoner of the ill-fated clone.

The summoner, a cultivator of Yin Void stage, paled. Despite his power, the approaching lightning filled him with dread, causing his very soul to recoil. He turned and fled, but the lightning, relentless, overtook him in a blinding flash. It pierced him, coursing through his body before returning to its origin.

The cultivator convulsed, falling still. His body, his soul, his very belongings—all rendered inert. Silence descended upon the assembly.

Unnoticed by most, Shen Gonghu, head bowed, concealed eyes blazing with awe and unbelievable excitement. Within that lightning star, he had detected, through the bond of his Dao-soul, a faint echo of the尊主’s (Venerated One’s) aura.

“I was right! I, Shen Gonghu, have not erred! The predecessor is indeed a master of unparalleled skill! To command thunder to such a degree, to enter the Thunder Immortal Realm before its opening! Such power… it is beyond belief!”

Within the still-closed Thunder Immortal Realm, upon a shattered continent dominated by a jet-black mountain wreathed in wild lightning, stood an ancient figure.

His silver hair flowed in the wind, matching the movement of his wide robes. Hands clasped behind his back, he seemed lost in thought. Suddenly, he started, turning his gaze towards a distant point, muttering a soft question.

“Interesting!” A flicker of amusement played upon the elder’s face. With a breath of wind, his form dissolved into shimmering motes of light, vanishing from the thunderous peak.

Had Wang Lin been present, he would have recognized in the elder’s departure a whisper of return to the primal source…