Aurelian light, a beckoning from the very source of existence, washed over all, granting them a glimpse into the tapestry of ages. Past and present blurred, a whirlwind of lives lived and yet to be, leaving the mind adrift in the river of time.

Magic, the art of weaving the forces of creation into tangible forms, was conjured through arcane gestures. Its potency, a reflection of the mage’s skill and the lineage of their craft. But Sorcery, a step beyond, amplified these magical arts, unleashing their full, devastating potential. For understanding was the key, unlocking the power of primal energies.

Yet, the Way was different, a path trod by few, whispered to be found only in the crucible of adversity. Its attack was akin to a battle of wills, but its source was far more profound. While the clash of wills pitted one’s understanding against another, a dance of minds in the ethereal realm, the Way was a force of sublimation, a strike that aimed for the very core of the soul, threatening to unravel its existence.

Each soul, bathed in the light of the Way, perceived it differently. The white-haired elder, in his ascension to the Ascendant Clan, had been granted a fleeting glimpse into its secrets. There, he grasped a truth, a fundamental principle of existence.

He believed the essence of a being lay within its memories, that life was but a collection of moments etched upon the soul. If those memories persisted, then even death could not extinguish the flame of existence.

Conversely, he reasoned, to erase a memory, particularly one imbued with comprehension, would leave a void, a scar that could drag even the most ethereal being down to the mortal plane.

Thus, the white-haired elder wielded a Way-art gleaned from the very heart of existence! The Extremes held raw power, Creation fostered new beginnings, but the Way… the Way held dominion over immortality.

Aurelian light poured forth, gentle yet capable of piercing the veil of reality, enveloping Wang Lin. It bypassed his warrior’s spirit, bypassing his physical form, instead reaching for the very essence of his being, his memories. “Three breaths,” the white-haired elder uttered, his eyes closing as his life force dwindled, as if returning to the void.

Wang Lin felt the world twist, the vibrant hues of the sky dissolving into a canvas of swirling clouds, finally giving way to a serene expanse of azure. Above, the heavens stretched, clear and pure.

The earth trembled beneath him, as if peeling away layer by layer. Distant peaks shrunk into nothingness until all that remained was a verdant forest.

Beside him, a winding path appeared, a rustic trail leading into the heart of the emerald wood. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the scent of damp earth, a fragrance that intoxicated the senses.

“It feels… as if I have just awoken,” Wang Lin murmured, his eyes heavy. He gazed ahead, then turned back to see a peaceful village nestled at the path’s end. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the laughter of children mingled with the barks of playful dogs.

“Surely, this was but a dream,” Wang Lin said, scratching his head, a disoriented expression on his face. He picked up a scroll and rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on the distant forest. Far off, through the trees, he thought he could glimpse a mountain shrouded in mist and, upon its peak, a towering structure that could only be a sanctuary.

“In my dream, I became an immortal, living for over a thousand years. Perhaps I have studied too much.” Wang Lin shook his head, bewildered.

“Tiezhu! Your father seeks you,” a voice called out. A man with a hunting spear was about to leave the village to hunt

Behind the man, a few stout men stood, one smiling at Wang Lin, “Tiezhu, study hard, and become the greatest in the land.”

Wang Lin scratched his head, as he bowed to them, and walked back towards the village as the echoes of laughter faded around him.

“How curious, this dream was so real. Hongdie, Li Muwan, Liu Mei, Mu Bingmei, Lyu Yanfei, Li Qianmei… Yun Quezi, Zhu Quezi, Situ Nan, Tian Yunzi… Even the Vermilion Bird Emperor, Azure Dragon Emperor, Tuosen, Tu Si… And I even took on two disciples, one named Shisan, and the other Xie Qing,” Wang Lin thought, his mind a blur.

“Did the Vermillion Bird Star hold ancient gods? Beyond it was the Corpse Yin Sect? What about the Cultivation Alliance, the Four Holy Sects? Was I in the Alliance Star System, or the Rattan Star System? Or even the Cloud Sea Star System?

Did I even venture to the Immortal Realm?” Wang Lin finally came to, as his house stood before him, he shook his head, “This dream is bizarre. In it, my parents had passed… No longer shall I think about this strange dream.” Wang Lin opened the doors to his house, as he saw his father with his pipe, looking up to him. Wang Lin gulped. “Tiezhu, how are your studies?” “Alright…”

“Hm, Tiezhu, study hard! Next year’s exam will be important to your life! It depends on it! Do not become like me!” His father shook his head.

His mother walked out, complaining about his father. She brought food, as the family started to eat. Wang Lin hesitated, and looked towards his father and mother. “I just had a dream…”

Before he could continue, the sound of a carriage came, and then a knock came. Wang Lin paused, “In my dream, my uncle…” “Second brother, open the door.”

Without thinking, Wang Lin dashed towards the door, to see a strapping man, full of energy. As he patted his head, “Tiezhu, it has been half a year! You have gotten taller!”
A haze clouded Wang Lin’s eyes, and he knew not how he had returned to his chair. Lost in a daze, the murmur of his fourth uncle’s voice eventually reached his ears.

“Brother, sister-in-law,” the uncle began, “I have tidings to share. The Heng Yue Sect seeks disciples this year, and I believe Tie Zhu should try his luck. Should he be accepted, he would ascend to become an Immortal, a chance most rare indeed!”

“An Immortal…?” Wang Lin’s father exclaimed, his tone a mix of excitement and doubt. “Do you truly believe this little scamp has what it takes?”

“The Immortal selection process involves trials, they say,” the uncle replied. “Let Tie Zhu at least attempt the trial.”

At these words, Wang Lin started, his gaze shifting between his uncle and father. The fog returned, and memories from a dream, as if guided by an unseen hand, flooded his mind.

He saw himself leaving the village, failing the trials, and departing amidst the scorn of his kin. He rested upon a cliff, only to be attacked by a great tiger, which tumbled him down a ravine and into a strange cave. Within, he found a bead. The moment his fingers touched it, he faintly heard a gasp, “Heaven… Heaven Defying…”

The voice was familiar, eerily so, yet Wang Lin could not place it.

The gasp quickly devolved into a wretched scream, the same voice writhing in unimaginable agony. The pathetic wails echoed in his ears, and before his eyes, time seemed to unravel, with a glimmer of iridescent light manifesting.

In an instant, his vision blurred, and the force controlling his memory seemed to falter, skipping forward years. His surroundings had drastically changed, and he found himself fleeing at great speed, the forest a blur. A sense of mortal peril gripped his soul. “You cannot escape the grasp of Teng Li!” a chilling voice echoed behind him, belonging to a youth with icy eyes, pursuing him with calculated ease. In this life-or-death situation, Wang Lin’s mind once more blurred, the tormented scream growing louder. He felt he was on the verge of recalling the voice’s origin!

Suddenly, his surroundings shifted again. He now stood within a vast valley, overwhelmed by a sorrow and pain so intense he had never known it before. He roared to the heavens, yet it could not release even a fraction of his grief!

“Those of the Teng family!” Wang Lin vowed, “If I, Wang Lin, find but a single breath, I shall see the Teng family’s clan rivers run red with blood, staining the land of Zhao! I will wipe out the Teng family, leaving not even a single whelp alive! Should I break this vow, may Wang Lin be torn apart piece by piece, never to find peace, forever damned to the deepest pits of hell!” Mad with sorrow, Wang Lin wept, his eyes burning with a wildness no mortal should possess.

His hair turned white overnight, and a winter chill enveloped him. An unimaginable force, one not of this world, was born within him.

This power, not meant for mortals, now surged through Wang Lin. It was the apex of all slaughter, the limit of strength. It was called ‘Extremity’! At the birth of this power, the screaming voice returned, laced with disbelief and horror!

“Extremity… It’s actually Extremity! What has this man endured in his life to awaken such a thing?! He holds the Heaven-Defying Pearl, and now Extremity! This man… This man…” The terrified voice grew louder, resonating throughout the heavens, shattering the sky and collapsing the earth in a swirling vortex of iridescent light.