Since the dawn of the Holy Sects, the ascendance of a Holy Emperor has always been an event of profound consequence. Remember, the Four Holy Sects boast an ancient lineage, tracing back to the age before the Celestial Realm’s shattering.

While the Rain Immortal Realm was once considered paramount, even they, at the height of the Four Holy Sects’ power when all four Holy Emperors reigned, afforded them a measure of respect. Upon the rise of a new emperor in any sect, the Celestial Realm itself would dispatch congratulatory gifts.

In those bygone days, there existed no Alliance of Cultivators. There was only the Kun Xu Domain, a direct lineage of the Celestial Realm before its sundering, tasked with governing all mortal cultivators below.

Yet, the formidable strength of the Four Holy Sects, coupled with peculiar circumstances, allowed the Rain Immortal Realm to permit the simultaneous existence of the Four Holy Sects and the Kun Xu Domain within the Kun Xu Starfield.

The emergence of each Holy Emperor invariably triggered a surge of primal energy, a phenomenon readily discernible to cultivators of great prowess.

Now, with Wang Lin’s successful completion of the Nine Transformations of Xuan, primal energy radiated outwards from the Vermillion Bird Holy Sect, rippling across the entirety of the Alliance Starfield.

Occupying the western and northern swathes of the Alliance Starfield, the territories of Luo Tian teemed with emissaries of the Thunder God Hall. Having conquered these vast regions, the Thunder God Hall had established itself as the supreme authority.

Towering black halls, akin to floating mountains, drifted through the star-strewn void, each surrounded by a multitude of Luo Tian cultivators.

From afar, these majestic halls numbered in the hundreds, forming a seemingly endless armada, their course set towards the Alliance’s remaining forces in the central regions.

Though the ranks of cultivators were vast, an eerie silence prevailed, broken only by the whistling of soaring swords. Years of conflict had wrought a transformation upon the Luo Tian cultivators, their youthful innocence replaced by a grim ruthlessness.

The wave of primal energy washed over these warriors, yet their cultivation was insufficient to perceive its subtle nuances.

However, within a colossal palace, a floating edifice larger than ten of the surrounding halls combined, the meditator Yan Leizi suddenly snapped open his eyes.

At that very instant, more than a dozen elders within the palace followed suit, their eyes blazing with radiant light.

“The source of this surge emanates from the eastern reaches of the Alliance Starfield,” one elder declared, his voice low and measured.

“Could it be that some treasure of immense power has been unearthed in the Alliance’s east?”

Yan Leizi pondered, shaking his head. “This surge is no mere treasure… The Alliance’s east is the domain of the Four Holy Sects. Could it be… a new Holy Emperor has arisen?” A flicker of uncertainty danced within Yan Leizi’s eyes, for he had been absent from the Alliance for too long.

“The Four Holy Sects? Even the Alliance of Cultivators proved no match for us. Surely, these minor sects will crumble before the advance of our Luo Tian army!” A crimson-haired elder scoffed, his words laced with disdain.

“The Four Holy Sects are not to be underestimated,” Yan Leizi countered, casting a pointed gaze at the red-haired elder. “This surge strongly suggests the birth of a new emperor. The question is, which sect claims this honor?”

For reasons unknown, the surge of primal energy stirred a nascent unease within him. It was a subtle sensation, yet undeniably present.

Another felt the ripple in the primal energies. He was an aged man clad in black. He emerged from the border between Luo Tian’s western lands and those of the alliance.

Immediately, he lifted his eyes skyward, gazing into the distance as if his sight could pierce the expanse of stars. A glint of intrigue sparked in his eyes.

“A new Holy Emperor of the Four Holy Sects… The surge carries a trace of fire essence, suggesting it is the Vermillion Bird Holy Emperor. With this development, the play becomes more intriguing. Wu Ji Zi, I refuse to believe that you will not emerge from hiding, even as the Alliance Starfield descends into chaos!”

Deep within the territory of the Corpse Yin Sect, located in the southern reaches of the Alliance Starfield, rested a colossal black coffin. Chains of iron bound the coffin at each of its eight corners, tethering it to others.

Myriad coffins formed an intricate web across this dread land, surrounded by celestial bodies that had been transported by arcane means. The primal energy ripple echoed through the area, causing a sound of surprise to emanate from the depths of the black coffin.

“The Four Holy Sects at this moment herald in a new Holy Emperor… interesting!”

As the words faded, the sound of fingernails scratching upon coffin lids echoed from all around, sending shivers down the spine and tearing at the very fabric of space, creating cracks in the star-strewn void.

Similarly, the ripple in primal energies was felt by the four great powers of the Alliance of Cultivators. Of the four the one most affected being the former Eight Level cultivation country, the Kingdom of Chu Yun, now controlling dozens of planets, forming a circular array.

Above its main star was the site of the Chu Yun Sect, the overlord of the Chu Yun country.

Inside a secret room in the back mountains, was a white haired old man, who was kind looking and benevolent. As the energy ripple washed over him, he opened his eyes. After a long silence, he sighed to himself. “The Four Holy Sects have been hiding from the world for too long.”

As those words were said, space rippled in front of the elder, and from the distortions of the space, walked out a bald headed man in robes, who clasped his hand towards the elder. “This disciple, Mo Zhi greets the master.”

“A new Holy Emperor has ascended from the Four Holy Sects, so retrieve 5 High Class Immortal pills, 100 regular Immortal Pills, and 1,000 magical treasures, and the soul of the beast I refined 5 years ago, as a gift. ”

“The…that soul…” Mo Zhi raised his head, hesitant, but nodded.

“That soul is very valuable, but the Chu Yun kingdom’s gift must have it. Your master has divined that you have past acquaintances with the new emperor, this alliance is of supreme importance to our country.” said the elder softly.

“Acquaintances?” Mo Zhi has very few friends, upon hearing that, he didn’t ask any more questions, backed away to leave.
At this very hour, throughout the lands of the Four Sacred Sects, figures darted with purpose, all converging upon the Vermilion Bird Holy Sect. Within its fiery domain, chants of “Holy Emperor” echoed like thunder, rising to a fever pitch atop Crimson Peak.

Wang Lin drew a deep breath, his gaze lifting to the star-strewn void, where lightning danced with flames.

Behind him, the Vermilion Bird Holy Emperor, his eyes alight with joy, nodded approvingly. “At last, my Vermilion Bird Holy Sect has a new Holy Emperor! I can depart this world with a peaceful heart!” He raised a withered hand, and a rift tore open in the air before him, unleashing three streaks of light.

“Wang Lin, as Holy Emperor of the Vermilion Bird Holy Sect, you must possess three sacred artifacts. The first is the mantle of past Holy Emperors!” The aged emperor pointed to one of the beams, and it shot towards Wang Lin.

Before him, the light coalesced into a cloak of pristine white, embroidered with nine crimson vermilion birds, radiating an aura of ancient power.

“I shed this cloak when my Celestial Tribulation of Decay first touched me, never dreaming I would not wear it again. Today, I pass it on to you!” A touch of melancholy crossed the old emperor’s face.

Wang Lin reached out and touched the cloak. It shimmered, enveloping him in a warm light. When the radiance faded, the mantle rested upon his shoulders.

His already striking appearance, with his white hair and crimson armor, was now further enhanced by the cloak, imbued with a peculiar aura of authority. More than that, Wang Lin felt the weight of countless ages within its threads, as though it had existed since the dawn of time.

“The second artifact is the symbol of office for all Vermilion Bird Holy Emperors – the Vermilion Bird Spirit!” With a wave of his hand, the second beam of light flew to Wang Lin.

As Wang Lin grasped it, the light solidified into a flame-shaped token. Barely larger than his palm, he felt a surge of fiery energy coursing through him, accompanied by the same timeless essence as the cloak.

“And finally, the most vital treasure of our sect – the Ancient Sacred Relic!” The third beam settled in Wang Lin’s hand, revealing a smooth, white stone. As he examined it closely, he saw countless sigils flickering within, each pulse intensifying the heat emanating from the stone. These marks seemed to have blazed ceaselessly since the beginning of time, drawing a look of profound seriousness from Wang Lin.

A storm brewed within his mind. He inhaled sharply, clenching the stone in his grip.

He perceived a faint resonance within it, a whisper of something akin to the Heaven Defying Bead. The presence was subtle, almost imperceptible, but undeniably there, only detectable through direct contact.

“The blood of the sacred artifact on Qing Shuang’s fleshly body is yours to claim at any time.” The Holy Emperor watched Wang Lin with approving eyes.

“These three treasures were left behind by the first Holy Emperor of our sect, to be passed down only to those who inherit the title. Guard them well.” The old emperor struggled to his feet, his frail body weakened with age. The simple act of standing brought a grimace of pain to his face.

Yet, the joy and contentment in his eyes banished all discomfort. He beckoned Wang Lin closer, his expression radiating paternal affection.

Wang Lin approached in silence. The aged emperor placed his hand on Wang Lin’s forehead and whispered, “From this day forward, you are the Holy Emperor! Go now, greet your people. I shall embark on my final meditation. Return to me in seven days.”

Wang Lin gazed at the Holy Emperor, opening his mouth to speak, but ultimately, he simply nodded. He cast one last, lingering look at the old man before turning and walking away.

Crimson armor, white mantle, white hair, and the white vermilion bird sigil – all combined to create a unique presence about Wang Lin, which faded gradually as he walked into the distance.

The old man, filled with peace, closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply.