In that very instant, the Five Elders, locked in mortal combat with the ancient demon Taga, faltered. Taga, arms outstretched, conjured behind him a spectral crescent moon, and with a guttural cry of “Moon Burial,” the void-grade treasures before the Elders shattered. They were hurled back, crimson staining their robes.

The fire giant, a being woven from the very essence of a hundred souls, exploded under Taga’s power. Its fiery fragments scattered, returning to the bodies of the kin from whence they came.

A chorus of anguished coughs filled the air as the hundred kin choked on their own blood.

The Celestial Weaver, Tian Yunzi, remained unmoved by this carnage. His gaze was fixed on Tasha, whose form throbbed with arcane runes before Wang Lin. His voice, though soft, carried the weight of ages. “You have lurked in the shadows for far too long. I had hoped you would remain hidden.”

Tasha remained silent. Indeed, he had remained below, observing the deadly ballet. He could have remained unseen, for this conflict was not truly his own.

Such had been his intent, until that fateful moment when Wang Lin stood on the precipice of oblivion. A primal roar tore through Tasha’s soul, seizing control of his very limbs and propelling him into the fray.

“Tasha…” Wang Lin’s face was etched with exhaustion, but his eyes burned with fierce resolve. He leaned on Tasha for support, blood trickling down his chin.

“Release me, aid Great Head!” Wang Lin gasped, gritting his teeth. His right hand clenched around the hilt of his broken sword, and a murderous aura, reminiscent of a bygone era, emanated from him.

He was once again the demon lord of Vermillion Bird Star, consumed by a rage that knew no bounds!

“I, Wang Lin, am a rebel! I shall stand defiant even in death! A life without fear is a life worth living! There is only death!” With a deafening crack, the sword’s scabbard shattered, the fragments scattering on the blood-soaked earth, leaving only the ancient, rust-eaten iron sword.

Tasha hesitated, then retreated into the shadows. He cast one last look at Wang Lin, a glimmer of recognition rekindling in his eyes.

With a mighty roar, he turned and vanished in a swirl of wind, heading toward the embattled Great Head and Powdered Dust.

Wang Lin had urged Tasha’s departure, knowing that even with the sacred runes of the ancestor, Tasha could not hope to defeat the Celestial Weaver. Though his wounds appeared superficial, Wang Lin sensed a deeper truth: Tasha could not withstand another blow.

Clutching the iron sword, Wang Lin took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto Tian Yunzi. A bitter smile played on his lips.

“Allow me, one last time, to call you ‘Master’… Were it not for you, I know not where I would be. Perhaps I would have left Vermillion Bird Star, or sought solace in some forgotten corner of the cosmos…

This strike, then, is a battle for my very existence. If I fall, I beseech you, Master, return my bones to Vermillion Bird Star. Even without the cycle of reincarnation, let me rest in my ancestral land! Situ and the others have no true connection to you; I beg you, if I die, spare them…”

Tian Yunzi gazed at Wang Lin, his face an unreadable mask. After a moment of silence, he nodded.

A booming laugh erupted from Wang Lin, filled with a fierce determination. His body screamed in agony, his very soul fractured, yet his hand remained steady, raising the iron sword high.

“Tian Yunzi!” Wang Lin roared, sweeping the blade across the battlefield. Every last sliver of his vital essence poured into the iron, causing it to shriek with unearthly power. In the air shimmered an illusion of a gigantic sword, poised to cut down Tian Yunzi.

One strike, two strikes, three…

Tian Yunzi remained still, watching Wang Lin, watching each blow with an unnervable stillness.

Seven strikes, eight strikes, nine… the iron sword whirled in a dizzying dance, each cut merging into the next until a halo of blinding light enveloped Tian Yunzi.

Ten strikes, eleven… nineteen! Wang Lin coughed up a mouthful of blood, his crimson armor dimming.

Twenty, twenty-one… twenty-three! The final strike, a blow Wang Lin had long ago mastered, forced the last of his armor to shatter into motes of fire, which were then absorbed by the blade.

Twenty-four! A cacophony of pops rang from within Wang Lin, blood streamed from his eyes, and his face twisted in a grotesque mask of pain. Despite it all, he raised the iron sword once more.

The sword aura around Tian Yunzi grew fiercer with each swing, and with the twenty-fifth strike, a gush of blood erupted from Wang Lin’s chest, re-opening a past wound. He swayed, but a fierce will kept him upright.

A wretched grin spread across his face as he lifted the iron sword, swinging with the force of a maelstrom. It became the twenty-sixth strike, and it blasted through the air to strike at Tian Yunzi.

The Celestial Weaver flinched, and a look of consideration appeared on his face.

“What you do is useless… Your cultivation is nothing compared to my first celestial decay. Unless you manage to achieve over thirty strikes, you cannot hope to stop my progress. ”

“Is that so…?” Wang Lin’s sight blurred, but his arm didn’t slow down. He swung once more, and with a howl, the twenty-seventh strike appeared.

Blood flowed from Wang Lin’s every orifice, but he roared, throwing his broken iron sword. It rolled through the air, and with one revolution, it created strike twenty-eight and twenty-nine.

Tian Yunzi shook his head, but in that instant, Wang Lin’s soul shattered from within. Although it didn’t dissipate, it had withered drastically. But what he lost in spiritual strength, he gained in vital essence.

The iron sword unleashed a blinding light, and as it revolved, it created strike thirty.

But that wasn’t the end, for after thirty, strikes thirty-one and thirty-two appeared like lightning from the sky.

“Thirty-three!” Wang Lin screamed, spewing blood that turned into a blinding mist. The mist was the essence of the final strike, and it combined to become thirty-three.

The thirty-three strikes revolved around the Celestial Weaver, and with a final point, Wang Lin’s sword unleashed a light that could cut through the entire demon domain. It surrounded Tian Yunzi with killing intent and spatial distortion.

Even the rust from the broken iron sword had turned into dust, blending into the sword light.
The earth groaned, a cataclysmic tremor erupting from the very spot where Tian Yunzi stood. The battle ceased. Warriors on all sides, locked in a brutal dance of death, paused, their eyes drawn to the source of the unimaginable power.

Even the ancient demon, Taja, his gaze sharp with curiosity, turned his monstrous head.

“Master…” Tasha, his fist clenched tight, felt the quake in his very bones.

“Lord!” Da Tou, his ethereal form shimmering, stared ahead in stunned silence. Though a spirit, an incomprehensible pain pierced his existence.

“Little Lin!” Situ Nan, bloodied and battered from his fight against Tian Yunzi’s avatar, gaped at the place where Wang Lin stood, his heart tearing in two.

Where Wang Lin and Tian Yunzi had clashed, a tempest of blades arose, a vortex of pure cutting force reaching towards the heavens. In that instant, the entire Demon Spirit Land shuddered. The earth cracked, the sky itself seemed to peel back.

A deafening roar echoed as the firmament split asunder, revealing the boundless expanse of the cosmos beyond.

The whirlwind of swords raged, tearing great rifts across the Demon Spirit Land. As the stars appeared, the raw power of the heavens poured forth, an overwhelming torrent of celestial energy.

The blast wave hammered outwards, a shockwave that flattened all before it. When the dust settled, Tian Yunzi stood, unscathed, a look of cold serenity on his face. In his hand, he grasped a trident, its surface etched with the weight of ages.

Yet, the wind tore his robes to shreds, and his hair, once lustrous, crumbled to dust.

Wang Lin, a flicker of defiance in his eyes, fell slowly backwards, his body plummeting from the hundred-mile high plateau towards the shattered earth below.

“Is this… is this where I meet my parents…?” As he tumbled, his vision blurred, he saw the star-strewn sky, and in its depths, the faint figures of his mother and father. They were beckoning him, their faces alight with the gentle smiles he hadn’t seen in a thousand years.

Those smiles, etched deep in the recesses of his memory, were the dearest, most precious things he possessed.

“Perhaps… this is for the best…” A faint smile touched his lips. Beyond his parents, he saw Li Muwan, and… another Wang Lin?

“Are you… are you waiting for me…?” His eyes, filled with a haunting confusion, closed as he fell.

“But Situ… Zhou Yi… my promises… I cannot fulfill them… Forgive me…” He shut his eyes, but in that final moment, two figures materialized amidst the stars above the Demon Spirit Land.

A man and a woman. The man was the aged master from Kun Xu. The woman… Mu Bingmei!

Mu Bingmei, her beauty unmatched, her heart frozen in ice, saw Wang Lin plummet from the sky. In that instant, her icy composure shattered.

An unfathomable emotion surged within her, a force beyond her control. As if guided by some unseen hand, she moved with impossible speed, transforming into a streak of light that shot towards the falling Wang Lin.

The old master beside her sighed, but made no move to stop her. He turned his gaze towards the assembled warriors of the Demon Spirit Land.

Mu Bingmei, graceful as a butterfly, reached the plummeting Wang Lin and caught him in her arms. She gazed at the man who was now only inches from her, her heart overwhelmed by a complex emotion she could not understand.

This, she realized, was the first time they had truly stood face-to-face.

With a whispered sigh, Mu Bingmei reached out with her ethereal hand and tore open a rift in the fabric of space. From within, she retrieved a jade vial, containing only a single pill. The vial itself was crafted from the purest celestial jade, infused with countless protective formations to preserve the precious elixir within. If the vial was so elaborate, what of the pill itself?

Without hesitation, Mu Bingmei removed the pill and held it to Wang Lin’s lips.

The pill did not require swallowing. The moment it touched his lips, it dissolved into two wisps of milky white vapor that entered his nostrils and vanished.

“In this world,” Mu Bingmei said, her voice laced with steel, as she raised her captivating face towards Tian Yunzi, “none but I shall claim your life before its time!”