The Celestial Scribe’s expression shifted, his eyes widening as he rose abruptly. A thunderous gaze, sharp as lightning, pierced the vast distance, seeming to rend the very fabric of reality. Through the shattered void, he beheld Wang Lin, standing tall atop a distant mountain peak in the heart of this cultivation star, his own eyes burning with unwavering resolve.

“I underestimated his cunning,” the Celestial Scribe muttered, a chilling smile playing on his lips. “Yet, against the sheer force of cultivation, all guile is naught.” With a single, decisive stride, he vanished from the chamber without a trace.

Within the grand hall, only the Dragon-Armored patriarch and his son remained, their faces shadowed with apprehension.

“Father,” the young lord of the Dragon-Armored clan began hesitantly, his voice hushed. “That cultivator possesses unfathomable power, a force far beyond the ordinary. He now shelters within the Land of Fallen Stars. Our actions… are they truly wise?”

“Wise? He is far from ordinary,” the patriarch rasped, his eyes glinting with grim knowledge. “If my suspicions are correct, this is the very man who shattered the Thunderflash Clan, felled their Grand Elder, and suppressed tens of thousands of cultivators before fleeing, marked for death by the Ancient Star Decree!” He was the Ninth Elder of the Fallen Star Assembly, his words carried the weight of authority and fear.

“What?!” The young lord’s eyes widened in astonishment, his countenance paling.

“Indeed. Could you imagine why the Third Step powerhouse, the Celestial Scribe, would suddenly descend upon this insignificant realm? Had this man not possessed such immense power, I would never have offered my aid. But in comparison, he who destroyed the Thunderflash Clan is not yet a Third Step cultivator. Thus, our allegiance must lie with the Scribe!”

“But, Father, if the Celestial Scribe succeeds, all is well,” the young lord conceded after a moment of pensive silence. “But should he falter…”

“Such a possibility shall not come to pass!” the patriarch declared, his voice laced with unwavering certainty. “Even if he survives, he shall be grievously wounded, forced to flee and mend his broken form. He shall have no time to seek vengeance upon the Dragon-Armored Clan. And should he dare to return, I shall ensure he finds only his doom!”

He continued to say, “Am I not the Ninth Elder of the Fallen Star Assembly? I represent the might of the Assembly! He…would not dare!” With a dismissive flick of his ornate sleeves, the patriarch turned and departed, leaving his son to grapple with his mounting anxieties.

In times of great consequence, serenity prevails.

Wang Lin stood unmoving, his face an impassive mask of tranquil calm. He raised his gaze to the heavens, his hands clasped behind his back. A simple white robe billowed around him, stirring his dark hair in a gentle dance, lending him the air of a celestial immortal.

He stood there as one with the cosmos, he, himself, was the heavens, he, himself, was the earth!

Two thousand years he spent on cultivation, he once was a youth of a boy, and now he has arrived at the pinnacle of cultivation, he can now challenge a Third Step Powerhouse! Although this Third Step Powerhouse is only an Avatar with the power of the Fifth Decline of Heaven and Man!

But gazing out across the heavens, within the Realm and without, how many are there, besides Wang Lin, who dare challenge a Third Step cultivator!

At this very moment, Wang Lin emanated the aura of a grandmaster, a serene façade concealing a storm of unimaginable power. Within that storm lay a killing intent capable of shaking the foundations of the heavens themselves!

He dared to struggle against the very heavens, dared to defy fate, dared to question the Tao!

This was Wang Lin! He stole Li Muwan’s life from the clutches of the Tao, gambled for survival in the face of impossible odds, and possessed the ability to condense a Realm of Incense, yet refused to rely on external power, relying solely on his Five Essences to draw open the Door of Emptiness, seeking a path of enlightenment tread by few throughout history!

He led seven million souls, the people of the Realm, through heaven and earth, returning to the starry sky! He slaughtered the Grand Elder of the Thunderflash Clan, and slew the heavens with his weak cultivation! Moreover, he came to the Ancient Star alone, just to deliver Li Qianmei!

He turned the Ancient Star upside down and was chased by the whole Ancient Star. All of this even surpasses that of Qing Shuang!

This was Wang Lin! Walking between the heaven and the earth, he does not seek for fame, he only seeks to be worthy of his heart. He does not seek fame, he only seeks to live without regrets!

The air crackled with the hum of countless swords. Nearly forty million blades of sword energy obscured the sky, tearing through the clouds, until it was impossible to discern whether the heavens contained the swords, or the swords contained the heavens!

As Wang Lin raised his right hand and pointed towards the sky, the swirling mass of sword energy surged into motion, converging upon his fingertip as if drawn into a vortex.

In a heartbeat, all forty million blades vanished into the void, becoming one with Wang Lin’s index finger. That single point could now sunder mountains and rend the heavens themselves. A single touch would unleash the fury of forty million swords!

Far across the horizon, a tempestuous roar echoed as a monstrous cyclone ripped from the earth, reaching into the heavens above. The swirling vortex throbbed with raw power, drawing ever closer with terrifying speed!

Within that towering storm raged the Celestial Scribe himself!

“To dare challenge me, the Celestial Scribe, you possess a boldness I did not expect!” the Scribe boomed, his voice shaking the very air. As his words echoed, the colossal storm surrounding him surged forward, hurtling toward Wang Lin with overwhelming force.

It was as if the Scribe had captured the heavens themselves, compressing them into a swirling vortex of destruction, unleashing the very power of the cosmos upon his hapless foe!

“Enough with the empty words!” Wang Lin retorted, his expression unchanged. As the Scribe drew near, he formed a swift hand seal before him.

“Volcanic Demise!” he uttered, his voice resonating with ancient power. In an instant, the very air around Wang Lin shimmered, as if reality itself were fracturing. Phantasmal volcanoes erupted from the earth, surrounding him in a ring of ethereal fire. With Wang Lin’s current power, this invocation of the Mountain Collapse far surpassed the abilities of the wounded Qing Shui.

Encircled by the spectral mountains, Wang Lin remained calm, his eyes burning with a chilling ferocity!

The Celestial Scribe’s face hardened with grim determination. He dared not underestimate one who could draw upon the power of Essence, one who could open the Door of Emptiness without the aid of Incense. He formed his own hand seals, and with a powerful thrust of his arms, the tempestuous cyclone around him trembled, tearing past him and hurtling toward Wang Lin with a deafening roar!

At the same moment, Wang Lin brought his upraised right hand crashing down in a decisive arc!

“Mountain, First Collapse!” With Wang Lin’s declaration, the countless illusory volcanoes shuddered violently. Black smoke billowed forth, blotting out the sun and spreading in all directions, colliding with the oncoming vortex with a deafening roar!

The heavens trembled, the earth quaked, as the impact sent shockwaves rippling across the land.

The entire cultivation star groaned under the strain!The Mountain. A second collapse. A third! The volcano roared, unleashing waves of scorching heat, transforming into a river of crimson magma that surged towards the swirling vortex of power.

The deafening roar at that moment threatened to shatter bones, as if the very heavens were rent asunder, revealing a colossal fissure. In the sky, it was a tear in the fabric of space itself; upon the land, a chasm of unimaginable depth upon this cultivation star!

“Mountain, a fourth collapse, a fifth!” Wang Lin spoke calmly, and at once, the fiery torrents merged, coalescing into a singular, true volcano, unleashing its destructive fury.

Yet, though real in its form, the volcano was soulless, a mere construct of arcane power.

In that instant, Wang Lin soared skyward, his right hand plunging towards the earth below. He roared, “The Art of Collapsing Mountains lacks a soul! I shall grant it one! I shall draw forth the very essence of the mountains from this cultivation star!!”

As his words echoed, the star shuddered, the earth trembling as if a dragon stirred beneath. Upon its surface, mountains quaked, some crumbling into dust and rubble, their foundations shattered, as if the spine that held them erect had been snapped!

For their spines, their mountain souls, were in that instant ripped asunder by Wang Lin, drawn away from the earth.

From every peak upon the star, tendrils of essence, mountain souls, emerged and converged, swirling around Wang Lin’s outstretched hand.

Upon the surface of the world, no longer did any peak possess its soul; they were but heaps of stone and earth.

Having wrested the soul of the mountains from the star, Wang Lin hurled it forth. At the instant the vortex of Si Moz approached, the collected souls merged with the volcanic construct of the Collapsing Mountain Art!

In that moment, the volcano, born of illusion, gained a soul! A soul vast and profound, woven from the essence of countless peaks. Now, and only now, was the volcano a true mountain!

The Art of Collapsing Mountains, only at this moment, achieved its full and terrible potential!

“The Ninth Collapse!!!” He bypassed the preceding stages, unleashing the final and most devastating act of the Collapsing Mountain Art! The volcano trembled, a roar erupting from within as if a tempest had been unleashed. Its peak shattered, creating a whirlwind born of stone, magma, smoke, and the very essence of mountains, a cataclysmic storm that threatened to tear the heavens asunder!

The storm thundered forward, colliding with Si Moz’s swirling vortex in a final, apocalyptic clash!

Waves of destruction erupted, crashing against Wang Lin. His robes whipped wildly, his hair danced in a frenzied ballet, and his face was pallid, yet he did not retreat. Instead, he strode forward, directly towards Si Moz!

Si Moz, his own face ashen, seized the instant the colliding storms dissipated and lunged forth as a streak of light.

“The Art of Collapsing Mountains? That is a Bai Fan Technique!!” Si Moz moved with lightning speed, piercing through the remnants of the collision. His hands weaved through complex gestures, and with a chilling roar, he cried, “Let the Heavens be my Canvas!”

His words echoed, and at once, the sky shifted. Countless ripples spread, and the heavens twisted and warped. In the blink of an eye, all color drained away, leaving only a canvas of pure white.

The white was like a painted scene, filled with countless ethereal landscapes and figures.

“Let the Earth be my Ink!” Si Moz roared, and at that moment, the ground mirrored the sky’s transformation, becoming dark and viscous. With each echoing ripple, it transformed, as if becoming pure ink!

“I am the Brush! One Stroke to Shatter the Heavens, Shaping my Path of Heaven’s Ruin!” Si Moz advanced, his right hand rising as if it were a brush, wielding it to reshape the world. It was as if a new reality was being born!

Wang Lin’s pupils constricted. He and Li Qianmei had discoursed on the Dao, and had touched upon the Arts of Power. Furthermore, he had obtained the jade scroll of Si Ma Mo, and had even visited his dwelling within the Realm of Seven Colors. Through these encounters, he knew that within the Sect of Heaven’s Ruin, there was a technique, known as the Path of Heaven’s Ruin.

Only the Sect Master and their primary disciple were permitted to learn it! Its power was boundless!

“Si Moz… Si Moz… Could he be…”