A sorrowful haze clouded Abbot Sanshen’s eyes, a silent testament that the unfolding ritual was not of his desire, yet an unavoidable necessity. He forced no soul, but instead, across countless ages, disseminated his Path to all, be they mortal or cultivator.

“The Heavens and Earth we perceive are but a grand illusion. The revered Immortal Realm, passed down through generations, is a lie. The truth of it all demands we shatter this facade together, cleaving open the firmament and stepping beyond, to become truly… human! This is the Path of Sanshen!”

The Grand Array of Seven Million Worlds and Billions of Souls, fueled by the very life essence of those seven million worlds, resonated as Sanshen’s pronouncements echoed. In each of these worlds, within humble hamlets and bustling cities, men, women, the aged, and the young,

emerged from their dwellings. They knelt before their thresholds, devoid of arcane arts, yet imbued with a potent will, a resolute desire to tear apart the false sky!

“We are not ants! We are not livestock! We refuse to be penned! We shall rend the Heavens, stride beyond the cosmos, and topple the Immortal Realm! We willingly offer our lives, for the generations to come, to secure a future of blinding light!”

Across the seven million worlds, cultivators emerged from their sects, silently gazing skyward before kneeling, unleashing their own, far more potent, surge of will!

“We are not witless puppets, nor hapless prey to the tribulations of the Heavens! We possess flesh and blood, joy and sorrow! We cultivate for the Great Dao, to ascend to immortality, yet this Immortal Realm is false, devoid of benevolence! Thus, we shall obliterate it and forge our own divinity!”

Even more numerous were the cultivators, their progress carefully suppressed by Abbot Sanshen to shield them from tribulation, their cultivations peaking at the pinnacle of the Spirit Transformation stage. They emerged from secluded sanctuaries across the seven million worlds, their expressions twisted with resentment and madness, amplifying their will in frenzied devotion!

“We are beings, not beasts to be slaughtered at whim! We are cultivators, not mere vessels for the Immortal Realm’s collection of faith and reverence! The Immortal Realm must fall! The Heavens must open! We… must escape our cage!”

The thoughts of each being raged in that instant, coalescing into an unimaginable tempest!

It was a tempest born of countless years of repression, erupting in defiance and desperate struggle! It was the power of unyielding resolve, magnified beyond measure!

A force indestructible, before which even the Heavenly Dao itself would tremble. It was the revolt of the insignificant, a rebellion that sent tremors through Wang Lin’s very soul!

It was not the defiance of a single being, but the unified rebellion of every cultivator and mortal across seven million worlds!

“With the flesh and blood of seven million worlds, we shall construct a Seal of Binding, barring all external forces from stepping even a half-pace within!”

Abbot Sanshen’s voice shook the heavens, reverberating across every corner of the seven million worlds!

As his words echoed, the tempest swelled, growing ever stronger, until it transformed into a vortex of unimaginable scale, one that Wang Lin had never witnessed.

It was imperceptible to the naked eye, yet when viewed with divine sense, it blazed with a devastating power, akin to the collapse of a sun!

The vortex, woven from the very souls and wills of seven million worlds, blanketed all, omnipresent!

It formed a massive, swirling sigil, an impenetrable barrier, resisting all intrusion!

This unfolded in the span of a heartbeat. As the tempest of life, belief, and desperate struggle took hold, a complete, undying lightning bolt, launched from the sacred temple of the Lightning Flash Clan, tore through the void and crashed down, its timeless, unyielding force colliding with the storm forged by the seven million worlds!

It sought to shatter the vortex and plunge within!

A cacophony of thunder echoed across the void, shaking the eight realms, sending violent tremors through the seven million worlds. The storm echoed with desperate roars and furious cries, a symphony of resistance against the heavens, an ultimate defiance!

Wang Lin stood transfixed, his mind reeling, his very soul resonated with that sound, as if being cleansed and clarified, solidifying his own comprehension.

At the first cataclysmic strike of the undying lightning, the storm did not break, but instead, spun with even greater ferocity, its enraged roar amplifying into countless echoes, the cries of billions combined.

Before this surging power, the undying lightning was blasted back hundreds of feet!

With a thundering rumble, the undying lightning flickered, seemingly drawing power from the very fabric of existence, before descending once more! This awe-inspiring sight filled the Lightning Flash Clan’s Grand Elder with terror. For the first time, he felt fear! He never could have conceived of such a cataclysmic event unfolding within the seven million worlds!

Not even the Lightning Flash Clan’s ancestor could have imagined it. “Madness… utter madness! The cultivators of these seven million worlds have gone mad! Even the mortals… they have all lost their minds!”

Outside the storm enveloping the seven million worlds, the undying lightning descended with thunderous fury, crashing down again.

The storm shuddered violently, and in the seven million worlds, countless mortals coughed up blood and collapsed. Yet, many more rose, kneeling in the places of those who had fallen, ready to take their place.

Others struggled to their feet, offering their strength even as blood spilled from their lips!

The cultivators, their minds more powerful, bore an even greater burden, and the backlash was devastating. Some were instantly torn apart, their bodies exploding in a shower of blood and gore. Yet, those who remained stood firm, unwavering! Even in death, they were content! There was no retreat!

Sorrow continued to cloud Abbot Sanshen’s eyes. He silently sat, closing his eyes, and as he did so, he seemed to fade into nothingness, becoming one with the seven million worlds, a part of everything!
In that fleeting moment, a radiant brilliance erupted from the body of the Ascetic San Ling, a light of ten thousand fathoms. As it surged skyward, the seven million whirlwinds of cosmic energy surrounding him, with Xut as their heart, grew even more formidable, coalescing as if imbued with a soul, a guardian spirit of the very formation!

The tempests roared, defying the onslaught of the unyielding celestial lightning. From the heart of this maelstrom, a shimmering, ethereal blade slowly materialized. Its emergence heralded a cataclysmic shift in the heavens, a booming descent that brought it to rest above the head of the Ascetic San Ling.

The blade, seven feet in length and three inches in width, pulsed with an otherworldly glow, radiating a blinding splendor.

“Friend,” the Ascetic’s voice resonated, “with the lives of seven million souls, with the very essence of seven million continents, I have woven the Array of Heaven’s End, a seal against the desolate wastes. From this, I forged this Blade of Sky-Cleaving. Wield it, and you wield the might of seven million worlds. Unleash seven strikes, and obliterate the Grand Elder of the Lightning Clan. This…this is the sevenfold chance I offer!”

The seven-foot blade shimmered, then hurtled towards Wang Lin. As Wang Lin reached out, it settled into his grasp. Holding it, he felt a frenzied energy beyond comprehension.

It seethed with defiance, with a desperate yearning to shatter the firmament. This was no mere weapon; it was the embodied hope of seven million worlds, condensed into steel! All of this unfolded in a heartbeat. The Grand Elder of the Lightning Clan, his face paling, fixated on the blade, his eyes glinting with a chilling light.

“A paltry seven million worlds? An exercise in futility!”

He sneered, striding towards Wang Lin. His right hand transformed into a torrent of lightning, a rumbling deluge. Wang Lin remained still, seemingly oblivious to the Grand Elder’s approach. Instantly, the boundless lightning enveloped him, coalescing into a myriad of crackling orbs, ready to strike. The Grand Elder was now less than ten paces away!

With a fierce roar, Wang Lin lifted his head, his grip tightening upon the seven-foot blade. With a sudden, devastating motion, he unleashed a single cut!

The heavens shook. A light of blinding intensity erupted, swallowing all other light, becoming as the first dawn of creation, the initial arc of celestial fire! As the blade descended, the world screamed.

No blade-wind followed, yet a deafening cacophony, capable of shattering bone, roared forth. At the instant of the strike, countless souls from seven million worlds offered their lives, willingly embraced oblivion!

Their deaths forged a power beyond description, erupting from the blade in a torrential wave!

Countless spirits, coalescing into a densely packed, spectral blade-wind, hurtled towards the Grand Elder. All of the lightning he had conjured shattered instantly, offering no resistance! The Grand Elder’s mind reeled. He staggered back, the lightning armor he wore, a relic from a Third Step ancestor of the Lightning Clan, ballooning outwards to shield him. It collided with the descending blade-wind.

The heavens boomed. A piercing shriek emanated from the point of impact. The Grand Elder’s eyes widened in disbelief, fear twisting his features. The ancestral lightning armor, capable of withstanding Wang Lin’s incense power, shuddered violently under the impact. Then, with a thunderous crack, the ancient treasure shattered, its fragments scattering like broken stars.

A ghastly wound gaped upon the Grand Elder’s chest, a sickening canvas of blood and torn flesh. His face ashen, he coughed up blood and stumbled backwards without hesitation!

The blade-wind dissipated. The first strike was complete!

Thrown back a thousand paces, the Grand Elder was consumed by terror. His body trembled, the lightning armor splintering, the cracks widening into a web of destruction. In an instant, with a final, echoing blast, the treasure inherited through millennia shattered completely, dissolving into countless fragments.

A deep, hideous wound now marred the Grand Elder’s chest, a horrifying spectacle of mangled flesh. His face was deathly pale, and he spat forth another mouthful of crimson before staggering back once more, desperate to escape.