“Young Emperor!” The Dragonscale Clan Chieftain felt as if a mighty hammer had struck his chest upon hearing those words. All color drained from his face, leaving him a ghastly white. He stared blankly at Wang Lin, his eyes reflecting shock and bitter resignation.

He was not alone in his dismay. The Dragonscale Clan Heir, standing beside him, was equally pallid, his heart trembling with disbelief and bewilderment.

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed, but his expression remained impassive. His icy gaze swept over the envoy before him.

“Young Emperor?”

The middle-aged envoy maintained his respectful smile, bowing low. “The Great Emperor has decreed it, informing all clans within the Fallen Lands. You are the Emperor’s chosen Young Emperor, holding authority above the thirteen Elders within the Assembly of the Fallen!”

Wang Lin remained impassive, offering no reply.

The Dragonscale Chieftain, a bitter taste in his mouth, clutched the offered elixir. After a long silence, he spoke in a low voice to the Emperor’s envoy, “Esteemed Envoy… might you spare the life of my only son?”

The envoy’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold indifference. He spoke slowly, “I am merely a messenger, delivering the elixir and reciting the Emperor’s edict. The lives and deaths of others are of no concern to me.”

Despair filled the Dragonscale Chieftain’s eyes as he glanced at his son, still reeling in shock and confusion. With a determined bite to his lip, he bowed deeply towards Wang Lin, his voice a mixture of bitterness and deference, “Young… Young Emperor, I beg forgiveness for my past transgressions. I beseech you, have mercy on my son. I will bear all the consequences. I implore you, grant him clemency…”

He raised his head with difficulty, and his right hand shot out, seizing his son. The Dragonscale Heir cried out in sudden, piercing agony as his father’s vital energy surged into him, a destructive force that shattered his meridians and crushed his very spirit. In an instant, his cultivation was utterly destroyed, reducing him to a mere mortal.

Agony erupted from the Dragonscale Heir’s body, causing him to spew blood, his face ashen. The air around him twisted, as if his life force was draining away. Overwhelmed by the pain, he succumbed to unconsciousness.

“Young Emperor, my son’s cultivation is gone. He poses no threat to you. I beg you… grant him a path to live!” The Dragonscale Chieftain pleaded, his voice choked with despair.

Wang Lin was silent. After a moment, he nodded.

Relief flooded the Dragonscale Chieftain’s face. With a wave of his hand, he sent his unconscious son to a safe place on the ground. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed the elixir without hesitation.

The elixir dissolved instantly, transforming into a black flame that surged through his body. This eerie flame devoured his spirit and consumed his flesh and bone. The Dragonscale Chieftain turned crimson, then black, as the black fire erupted from every pore. He became a living inferno, which vanished without a trace, leaving only ash.

“What… what manner of fire is this?” Wang Lin’s pupils constricted.

The entire cultivation star was silent. Many had witnessed the scene, their hearts trembling. In the Fallen Lands, the Emperor’s power was absolute, like a god’s. No one dared to defy it.

The Dragonscale Clan members, in particular, were filled with fear, bowing their heads in submission.

“A cultivator in the Fourth Celestial Decay Realm, a hero within the Inner Realms, and even esteemed as an elder in a major clan beyond, yet here in the Fallen Lands, he is reduced to nothing more than a puppet. He swallowed a poisoned elixir rather than disobey… The Emperor’s power runs deep… and he offered the Dragonscale Chieftain this fate to demonstrate to *me,* as a warning.”

With the death of the Dragonscale Chieftain, the matter was concluded. The middle-aged envoy smiled once more, bowing towards Wang Lin. “The Dragonscale Clan cannot be without a leader. We await the Young Emperor’s selection for the new Chieftain.”

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed. He pointed casually towards a youth in the Distant Void Realm, “He will suffice.”

The youth, still reeling from the chieftain’s death and the Emperor’s awesome might, was stunned when Wang Lin singled him out. It was as if he had been plunged into hell, only to be raised to the celestial realms in the next instant.

The transformation was so sudden that the youth could barely comprehend it. He was not the strongest within the Dragonscale Clan. Under normal circumstances, he would never have become Chieftain, destined to be an elder.

But now, Wang Lin’s gesture had stirred a tempest within him. Trembling, his eyes filled with ecstatic joy. He stepped forward, bowing respectfully to Wang Lin, his voice trembling, “M-many thanks, Young Emperor, for your recognition! From this day forward, the Dragonscale Clan is yours to command. Even annihilation will not deter us! I…”

Wang Lin waved a hand, cutting him off. “Bring me all of your Dragon Shattering Pills, Flamefire Crystals, and any automatons you possess. I shall take them.”

The youth eagerly agreed. If Wang Lin had asked for the souls of the Dragonscale Clan, he would have readily offered them. Becoming Chieftain was a blessing beyond measure.

The youth had forgotten the death of the former chieftain, consumed by excitement and the desire to ingratiate himself with Wang Lin.

The Emperor’s envoy bowed to Wang Lin and smiled, “Young Emperor, I must take my leave to report back to the Great Emperor.” He produced a jade pendant, azure in hue, and offered it respectfully to Wang Lin.

“Young Emperor, this pendant is sent from the Emperor. It symbolizes your authority. Where this pendant lies, it is as if the Great Emperor himself is present. None in the Fallen Lands will dare to defy you.”

“The Emperor also requests your presence at the Elder Selection for the Assembly of the Fallen, to be held three months hence.” With that, the envoy bowed again and departed, transforming into a streak of light that vanished beyond the horizon.
Wang Lin held the jade pendant aloft, his gaze tracing its simple form. The material was unremarkable, common as pebbles along a streambed. Yet, etched upon its surface was a single character: “帝” – Emperor. A single, flowing stroke seemed to have birthed the glyph, imbued with an ancient, almost sorrowful air. Gazing upon it, a strange power emanated, washing over him like a spectral tide.

Beyond the Fallen Star Domain, within the vast expanse of the Primordial Star, at the very moment of his avatar’s demise, Si Mozi, in his true form, snapped awake in a sprawling chasm within the starry sea.

His eyes flew open, unleashing twin bolts of searing energy, cleaving the oppressive darkness of the rift like lightning. The void itself seemed to groan and tremble, threatening to collapse under the sudden surge of power.

A tempestuous aura erupted from Si Mozi’s core, swirling around him in a violent vortex, expanding outwards with terrifying force.

His robes billowed, his long hair lashed about, his face a mask of chilling rage. The brilliant light in his eyes faded, replaced by a simmering hatred and a glacial coldness.

The death of a mere avatar did not diminish his own power, for it was a construct, forged later in his years, intended as a stepping stone towards a third level of mastery, should his own progress stagnate.

Yet, its destruction shattered his carefully laid plans, collapsing years of meticulous preparation. It was as though he had poured his very lifeblood into the task, only to see it carelessly spilled.

“The Fallen Emperor!” Si Mozi hissed, his jaw clenched, his features contorted in a savage snarl.

“And that Thunder-wielding whelp… how did he possess not only the power of thunder, but also a spark of the very fire itself! And how did he know my ancient name… Could it be… Does he hail from within the Realm?!” Si Mozi’s eyes flickered with fury and calculation. He raised his hand and tore at the fabric of reality. The void shrieked and groaned as a rent appeared, a gaping wound in the darkness.

Si Mozi stood, and with a single step, approached the chasm. His hand plunged into the tear, and he roared, “Seven-Hued Sky Piercers, appear!”

In an instant, a kaleidoscopic radiance burst forth from the rent, its brilliance scattering the shadows and bathing the void in a rainbow hue. The void was filled with the splendor of untold sunsets.

A rain of glittering, multi-hued spikes surged from the rent, hovering before Si Mozi. Twenty-nine in total, they spun in orbit around him, intensifying the already blinding light, obscuring his form until only an incandescent rainbow remained.

“The Sky Piercers, a gift from the Hierarch, forged to slay those of the third level! I alone cannot face the Fallen Emperor. But, if the Hierarch were to gather the strength of the entire conclave, united we could defeat this foe! It all depends on the Hierarch’s judgment!” With a flick of his wrist, the Sky Piercers vanished into the void, and in another step, Si Mozi dissolved into nothingness.

Meanwhile, within the Fallen Star Domain, a cohort of warriors hastened through the starways. Numbering near a thousand, their ranks varied greatly. At their heart rode a retinue of ten or more, skilled warriors of the second level, closely guarding a single figure.

This figure was an old man, garbed in rich finery, his face unremarkable, yet radiating an aura of chilling malevolence.

“Grand Emissary Greed-Wolf, the Ak-Scorpion Clan’s cultivation star lies not far ahead! We have confirmed that the Ancient Scorpion Corpse you seek is most likely there!”

The aged man, the Grand Emissary Greed-Wolf, nodded curtly, his face twisted in arrogance. “Excellent. Should this be true, your rewards shall be ample.”

A wave of elation rippled through the assembled warriors. Such a promise, made by any other, would be met with skepticism. But these words came from Greed-Wolf himself!

In the Fallen Star Domain, it was known to all: Greed-Wolf never tread where treasure was not to be found! The generosity he bestowed was never less than extraordinary!