A wave of thunderous sound heralded a tempest of obsidian meteors, each a shard of solidified shadow-flame. This unholy fire, black as midnight, radiated a scorching heat that threatened to incinerate the very essence of the soul. In mere moments, the sky above was choked, saturated with its ominous presence.

Even the wisps of cloud, mere gossamer threads in the celestial tapestry, were consumed by the demonic taint, their purity corrupted into billowing masses of malevolence. Under the howling gale, they coalesced, each union birthing maddening raindrops that promised oblivion to any they touched.

The fevered rain lashed against the earth, carried on the razor’s edge of the wind. The demonic aura of the land swelled, transforming the very air into a suffocating miasma. From leagues away, one could witness the sky writhe with monstrous power: a gargantuan specter with a single, spiraling horn dominating the heavens. Perched atop this unholy effigy stood a youth clad in violet robes, his black hair whipping around a face alight with predatory fervor, his eyes gleaming with a bloodthirsty light. He descended, a harbinger of doom.

Upon the scorched earth stood Wang Lin, his gaze steady, his expression unyielding as he surveyed the descending darkness. With a flick of his wrist, he banished the remnants of a broken hilt back into the depths of his storage pouch.

The demonic specter descended, casting a pall over all. The youth, leering down at Wang Lin, spat out a word as cold as the grave: “Fool!” With a subtle gesture, he commanded the malevolent rain to his will. In a blink, countless droplets solidified, coalescing into a piercing rain-arrow, tearing through the wind with a ghastly shriek. It cleaved the air, leaving swirling vortexes in its wake as it hurtled towards Wang Lin. The youth, a master of the Yin Void realm, stood far above the threshold of mere initiation; while not yet at the pinnacle of his power, he was a force to be reckoned with.

His mastery rivaled even the infamous Lei Daozi, and his demonic arts amplified his powers to terrifying heights. Even Lei Daozi himself might have found himself hard pressed to gain the upper hand. The rain-arrow pulsed with an intent to kill, its very essence imbued with a chilling power. Wang Lin, his eyes flashing with icy resolve, retreated a few paces. His right hand lashed out, tearing a rent in the fabric of reality. Thunder shattered the air as lightning crackled into existence, forming shimmering spheres, connected by blinding arcs. With a flick of his wrist, these volatile orbs surged forth, a tempest of raw power, colliding with the rain-arrow. The impact was cataclysmic. The spheres detonated in a symphony of destruction, unleashing waves of chaotic energy that tore the arrow asunder, shattering it into countless droplets of tainted water that dissipated harmlessly ten paces from Wang Lin. “Interesting…” the violet-robed youth remarked, his expression unperturbed. But before the words fully left his lips, Wang Lin stepped forward, his resolve hardening. He had been trapped, confined within treacherous passages, and a simmering rage burned within him. Now, confronted by this arrogant youth who dared to strike first and ask questions never, his temper snapped. Was he, in the eyes of others, so insignificant, so easily crushed beneath their heel?

“It seems I have been too reserved in the Rotian Starfield.” If his adversary possessed the strength of the Yin Solid realm, Wang Lin might have hesitated, chosen to retreat. But he had slain Yin Void cultivators before. With a stride of purpose, he advanced towards the demonic specter.

“You dare wield demonic arts before me? I have faced scattered demons themselves!” With a single step, Wang Lin ascended into the air. As his right hand rose, his primordial spirit stirred, and the very air thrummed with nascent lightning. From within his core, bolts of pure energy surged forth, coalescing into a sphere of furious power above his outstretched hand.

A cerulean orb pulsed with untamed energy, containing a terrifying amount of raw lightning. The moment it manifested, it warped the world around it.

Here, in the immortal realm of lightning, power crackled in the air. As the lightning sphere emerged, strands of energy snaked across the earth, drawing upon the celestial currents. Even the sky seemed to yield, its shimmering expanse drawing close, threads of starlight and electric essence drawing in to fuel the sphere.

Grasping the volatile orb, Wang Lin did not hesitate. He launched forward, thrusting the lightning sphere forward, sending it hurtling towards the demonic specter and its master.

The violet-robed youth betrayed a flicker of apprehension. The bloodlust in his eyes intensified, reaching a fever pitch. He wove arcane gestures, his hands a blur of movement, uttering a guttural incantation as the lightning sphere drew near. “Devour!”

At his command, the chaotic form of the demonic specter shifted, revealing two burning eyes filled with insatiable hunger. A chasm yawned open, an abyss of darkness, swallowing the lightning sphere whole. “Mere weak lightning! It doesn’t even warrant my demonic flame!” The youth raised his right hand, summoning the scattered raindrops to him. They writhed and coalesced, morphing into a serpentine spear, its form writhing with a dark ichor. It was a weapon forged from water, yet imbued with the blackest essence, its surface alive with flowing shadows. He hurled it forward, unleashing a torrential wave of corrupted water that surged towards Wang Lin. Wang Lin remained impassive, his gaze unwavering. He reached into his storage pouch, withdrawing a familiar object: a shard of immortal mountain stone. He held it aloft, and the stone grew, expanding into a massive monolith within moments.

As the wave of dark water crashed towards him, Wang Lin slammed his hand against the mountain stone, a strange light flickering in his eyes. He drew forth the essence of the mountain’s soul, drawing it outward in shimmering filaments.

When his right hand finally lifted, revealing the palm, the mountain’s soul formed a swirling vortex of fog, radiating an aura of timeless power.

Wang Lin moved like a phantom, so swift that thunder echoed in his wake. Clutching the swirling mist, he plunged into the onrushing wave of demonic water. The chilling waters enveloped him, transforming into a massive droplet of pure, unadulterated darkness.

But the moment he was ensnared, the swirling mist in his hand burst forth with a powerful surge of immortal energy, tearing through the suffocating water, allowing him to burst forth, free. Without a pause, he launched the mist towards the demonic specter and the violet-robed youth.

The youth, his face darkening as he recognized the nature of the fog, brandished his spear. With a flick of his wrist, the spear transformed into a writhing inky dragon, roaring as it plunged towards the mist, seeking to tear it apart.

“Disperse!” Wang Lin commanded, his voice a thunderclap as he unleashed his power.

The mist expanded, growing exponentially, swallowing the dragon-spear in a suffocating cloud. The youth’s eyes widened as he scrambled to weave another spell, but it was too late.

In that moment, Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with deadly resolve. “Lightning… Detonate!”

The lightning sphere that had been swallowed by the demonic specter had not been extinguished, but merely lay dormant. Now, at Wang Lin’s command, it unleashed its full fury, detonating within the demon’s core.

The black specter, writhing in agony, erupted in a corona of blue light. The brilliance intensified, reaching a blinding crescendo before the specter exploded, its colossal form shattering into a million pieces of pure lightning and shadow. The cataclysmic explosion hurled the violet-robed youth from his perch. He barely managed to escape before his mount was consumed. As he staggered backwards, Wang Lin lunged forward, his form blurring as he split into two. One Wang Lin remained while the other was a shadow, the immortal puppet stepping into the void. With impossible speed, the puppet moved, its body gleaming with golden light. The brilliance flowed like liquid to its right hand, transforming it into a fist that shone with the searing brilliance of the sun.

One punch. One strike.

Wang Lin, having ascended to the pinnacle of the Nascent Soul, now concealed the presence of the immortal puppet so subtly that it was nearly undetectable, unlike the crude displays of years past.

All of this unfolded in the blink of an eye. The youth had no time to react, no time to strategize. He had never imagined that a mere Nascent Soul cultivator could command such lightning, draw upon the soul of immortal stone, or unleash such a devastating strike.

The punch generated a shockwave of pure, unadulterated power. The golden light was blinding, searing the eyes and scorching the very soul. This was the puppet’s ultimate attack, a strike designed to shatter the heavens themselves. It hurtled towards the youth, a harbinger of annihilation.

The cumulative effect of all of this struck the youth like a hammer. Starting from a position of leisurely dominance to one of utter destruction, the youth felt the sting of fear creep into his heart. The air crackled with energy, and the force of the punch seemed to reach out and grab the very hairs on the youth’s head. He knew that if he did not evade, if he allowed that fist to touch him, his Yin Void cultivation would avail him nothing. Death was inevitable!

Desperate, the youth bit his tongue, spitting out a mouthful of primordial essence, the very lifeblood of his soul, infused with the energy of creation.

His face contorted with anguish, he roared, “Eastern Barrier!”

The blood cascaded down his face like tears of anguish before splashing off his skin. As the blood mist expanded, it coalesced into a red mist, desperately attempting to shield him from the devastating punch.

The fist crashed against the barrier of blood, unleashing a sound that shook the very foundations of the fragment world. The echoes resonated, shaking the land as a wave of energy ripped outwards, carving a swath through the earth, tearing the land asunder as if it were the ocean parted by some cosmic deity.

Tons of dirt went flying into the air, revealing even more immortal fragments that had been buried deep within the earth.

The mist of blood dissipated. The puppet stumbled backward, retreating several paces before regaining its footing. The golden light that had suffused its form was gone, its vitality drained. The immortal puppet trembled visibly, its power spent.

The violet-robed youth was a projectile, careening uncontrollably through the air before crashing to the ground. As the dust settled, a black lotus coalesced, its petals crafted from pure shadow flame, its glow radiating a terrifying malice.

“For five thousand years, you are the first to force me, Xu Fenghan…”

But before he could complete his declaration, a series of muffled thuds echoed from within the mountain stone. The mist dissipated, receding into the depths of the mountain, and the dragon-spear dissolved into lifeless water, its dark essence seeping back into the earth.