A gasp escaped the Void Child’s lips, for Wang Lin neither crumbled to dust nor succumbed to swift death. A sudden emerald shield had materialized, deflecting nearly three-quarters of his potent attack.

Yet, even the remaining force, a meager fraction of his true might, should have been sufficient to extinguish Wang Lin’s flame. It was here that the Void Child truly faltered, for that final onslaught merely elicited a torrent of blood and grievous injury. Wang Lin, though battered, still lived!

Suspended in the air, Wang Lin felt the chaotic ripples of energy tear through him, assaulting his very soul. A deafening roar echoed within his being. Though his spirit was shielded by the ancient god’s hide, even that bulwark dimmed under the assault. Crimson ichor gushed from his lips, and he was flung backward like a discarded doll.

Agonizing pain wracked his form, a testament to the wounds inflicted upon his ancient god flesh. Yet, Wang Lin’s gaze remained unwavering, his eyes locked upon the Void Child.

He crashed, not randomly, but precisely at the epicenter of the wrathful gazes of the two colossal statues that flanked the great hall.

“Not dead, eh? Then I shall remedy that oversight!” the Void Child snarled, his eyes burning with murderous intent. He sensed a subtle imbalance in Wang Lin’s final trajectory. With a gesture of his hand, he unleashed a retaliatory strike upon the reeling figure.

This was no mere attack; it was a death sentence delivered with unrestrained force. The very air vibrated with its power. In a tempestuous display of sorcery, a swirling vortex of ochre dust arose, hurtling towards Wang Lin.

Wang Lin’s expression remained placid, a flicker of amusement dancing within his eyes. He knew he was no match for the Void Child, whom he had sensed harbored ill intentions toward him during the ordeal at the Burial Immortal Pond. Connecting this feeling with his recent Vermillion Bird awakening, Wang Lin had deduced that the Void Child sought his demise.

Now, face-to-face within this ancient hall, the Void Child’s true nature was revealed. Wang Lin understood that resistance would be futile. Instead, he had seized upon the opportune moment to pinpoint the subtle energies of the portal to the second level. He would use the Void Child’s own attack to propel him towards his true destination. Further, in the briefest of moments, he had woven a deadly trap, a snare designed solely for the Void Child.

*Let none say that I strike first,* Wang Lin thought. *Yet, if malice is directed my way, I shall not simply yield.*

Even if this perilous scheme failed to vanquish his foe, he would leave an unforgettable mark.

With practiced precision, Wang Lin formed the hand seals, mirroring the ancient patterns etched upon the statues. As the final gesture was completed, a surge of violet energy erupted from the eyes of the gargantuan figures.

Two beams of amethyst light enveloped Wang Lin, weaving a protective vortex that would propel him toward the hidden gate.

But the Void Child was no novice. Years of cultivation had honed his instincts and sharpened his perception. He had immediately sensed Wang Lin’s calculated descent and thus, launched a follow-up attack. The sandstorm roared towards the swirling gate, threatening to consume Wang Lin before his escape was complete.

The Void Child, driven by his ambition, surged forward.

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with cold resolve. As the storm drew near, his third eye, the most potent weapon in his arcane arsenal, blazed open. It was a weapon he rarely dared to wield, but in this moment of utter desperation, he unleashed its power.

“Void Child!” Wang Lin roared, his voice infused with murderous intent. A fan of crimson light erupted from his brow, washing over the battlefield.

The Void Child, whose face had remained impassive for centuries, now recoiled in disbelief and a surge of near-frenzy. Not a mere shift, but a seismic upheaval!

“The Source!” the Void Child gasped, his eyes wide with incredulity, immediately followed by the unbridled ecstasy of ambition. In that instant, the Vermillion Bird Sect, the Alliance of Cultivators, all faded into insignificance. All that remained was the radiant power emanating from Wang Lin’s third eye.

Even the hooded figure cloaked in the shadows of the Black Dragon Mark stood transfixed, his eyes burning with avarice.

Only the village woman remained unmoved, her brow furrowed in contemplative concern as she studied Wang Lin.

The power of the Source filled the air. The crimson light collided with the ochre vortex, and with barely a whisper, the storm crumbled.

A piercing agony shot through Wang Lin’s mind. His reserves of the Source were limited. But the Void Child was already ensnared.

The crimson light expanded exponentially, swallowing the remnants of the sandstorm and surging toward the Void Child.

The Void Child’s expression morphed from greed to uncertainty, but the temptation to taste the fabled energy was too great.

In a heartbeat, the crimson light engulfed him. A wave of power washed over him. The Void Child’s form shimmered, as though layers of reality were being peeled away.

“The Source…the Source!” he exclaimed, abandoning all caution, his senses aflame with the fevered quest to understand the nature of the universe itself. Wang Lin was but an insignificant speck.

Wang Lin was sinking into the swirling violet vortex, his eyes blazed. His scheme was complete, and now was the time to strike.

With a gesture, he drew forth a sword sheath from his storage pouch. Within, lay an iron sword. Wang Lin’s hand tightened around the hilt.