A sound like the thunderclap of gods rent the heavens. The tranquil lake erupted in violent spasms, ripples spiraling outwards, scattering like startled sprites. A layer of the lake’s surface succumbed to the force, shattering into a million infinitesimal droplets. These newborn droplets, barely formed, collided with a ferocity that annihilated them anew, each impact a miniature cataclysm in an unending cycle of destruction. Within the span of a heartbeat, that layer of water utterly vanished, transmuted into a swirling mist that ascended into the air above the troubled lake.

The lake’s surface visibly descended by a full fathom.

Such a phenomenon seemed commonplace. There appeared nothing remarkable about it. A skilled sorcerer, wielding potent arcana, could have vaporized not merely a fathom of water, but the entirety of the lake itself with trivial ease.

Neither this venerable elder, nor even Wang Lin himself, lacked the ability to unleash a far more visually devastating strike.

“Simple, is it not?” the elder inquired, turning his gaze upon Wang Lin, a knowing smile playing upon his lips.

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed, fixed upon the disturbed surface. The elder’s initial palm strike replayed in his mind’s eye. He furrowed his brow in concentration, seeking to unravel the secrets held within.

The elder, delighted to witness Wang Lin’s contemplation, chose not to intrude. He sought to gauge the young man’s comprehension, to discern if he could perceive the hidden truth within this seemingly mundane act.

“When I first learned this art from the Ancestor, I could not fathom its deeper meaning on my own. Even the prodigiously gifted Fourth Vermillion Bird struggled, grasping only at the edges, requiring the Ancestor’s guidance to achieve true understanding. Let us see how this Sixth fares.”

“Though, I judge his talents pale in comparison to the Fourth. His cultivation, I suspect, is largely due to fortuitous circumstance, or perhaps related to that disciple taken in by the Fourth Vermillion Bird’s descendant.”

“Otherwise, it would be inconceivable for one with merely two millennia of training to have even touched the edge of Empyrean Fire. Even the Ancestor, I wager, could not have achieved such a feat at that age.” The elder’s thoughts paused, abruptly recalling the unsettling truth of Wang Lin’s five interwoven sources of origin, a force that defied natural order.

“Perhaps… just perhaps… this whelp might actually see it?” A touch of vexation entered the elder’s heart as he observed Wang Lin.

Wang Lin frowned, the events replaying over and over in his mind. The elder’s strike was seemingly mundane, a mere tremor delivered to the water, a birth of droplets that subsequently annihilated each other to mist.

And yet, the elder’s words and demeanor suggested that within this act lay a principle of profound power…

Lost in thought, Wang Lin approached the water’s edge. Kneeling down, he extended his right hand, pressing it gently upon the surface of the lake. He employed no spells, no divine energies. His touch was that of a simple mortal.

The instant his hand broke the surface, Wang Lin perceived a faint resistance, a tremor of force pushing back against him. This counter-force was minuscule, barely perceptible, yet perfectly appropriate.

Though yielding, water could support a floating leaf. A hand descending would, of course, meet with a subtle impediment. Ordinarily, such a trifle would escape Wang Lin’s notice, a thing unworthy of further thought.

But now, the whisper of resistance sent a jolt through him, his eyes widening with sudden understanding.

Ripples radiated outwards from his hand, mirroring the turbulence within his own thoughts, each expanding ring plucking at the strings of his soul.

He was unlike most others. Wang Lin was of the Ancient Gods. Beyond their divine powers, their greatest strength lay in the sheer, untamed power of their physical forms. A single blow could cleave the heavens, shatter a celestial body. Such overwhelming might defined the very essence of the Ancient Gods.

Thus, Wang Lin possessed a uniquely profound understanding of force, far surpassing that of those who merely wielded spells or relied upon divine artifices.

“In my youth, amidst my studies, I encountered the phrase ‘dripping water wears away stone.’ Water, though appearing the gentlest of substances, is, in truth, a force of implacable strength. A single drop, falling upon solid rock, may shatter into countless fragments, but in that instant of impact, it generates a counter-force. This resistance may be slight, yet the ceaseless repetition of drops, the endless years of vibration, can eventually pierce even the most unyielding stone!”

“Nay, not merely stone! Even an Ancient God, lying still for eons, whose flesh defies magic and divine powers, would eventually be pierced by the relentless assault of water!” Wang Lin’s eyes shone with sudden revelation. He rose, turning to face the elder.

The elder’s countenance shifted, a flicker of astonishment crossing his face. He had never imagined that Wang Lin would perceive even the barest glimmer of the secret within the art.

“This young man’s talent pales in comparison to the Fourth Vermillion Bird, as distant as the stars from the earth. Yet, his insight into the workings of the heavens is unnerving! He somehow bridges the gap between aptitude and wisdom, reaching the same level of understanding as the Fourth did in her time! No wonder he possesses those unsettling five sources of origin. Perhaps it is not mere chance…” The elder inhaled sharply, his admiration growing stronger. He nodded approvingly, preparing to explain. It seemed to him that the young man had already reached the very edge of his understanding, that he could pierce no deeper.

But before the words could leave his mouth, Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with enlightenment.

“That is not all…” he said softly.

The elder froze, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Water embodies both yielding flexibility and unyielding strength. When it gathers into a lake, a counter-force exists upon its surface. The greater the force of my hand, the greater the resistance I encounter! A punch delivered to the water’s surface generates, in that instant, a return force equal in measure to the blow I unleashed!”

“Thus, in that instant, two opposing forces collide, creating a devastating force of destruction! The elder’s palm strike causes the droplets to collide thousands, tens of thousands, even millions of times in a fraction of a second, leading to the complete disintegration of that layer of water.”

“This disintegration is nothing less than the alteration of its fundamental state, from liquid to cloud, from water to mist! It seems deceptively simple, yet it conceals a power of unparalleled magnitude! A force that alters the very essence of existence!” Wang Lin spoke with increasing fervor, his eyes blazing. A storm of understanding raged in his mind, the elder’s palm strike replaying a thousand times within his soul.
“So it would seem,” mused Wang Lin, his eyes gleaming with newfound understanding. “That strike, Elder, the one you demonstrated, held within it such a principle – a fist that cleaves the heavens, capable of shattering even a celestial cultivation star. Though the recoil must be immense, even as that force travels back, the star itself would crumble, unable to withstand the impact. The power to destroy a star lies not only in the strike itself but also in the harnessing of that very recoil!”

He paused, his gaze unwavering. “Water, however, is different. Its resilience is unmatched, a testament to the heavens. When gathered, forming lakes and seas, its capacity for absorption is astonishing. The same fist aimed at the ocean would unleash a recoil that could shatter even the strongest warrior.”

The ancient Vermillion Bird, its eyes wide with wonder, stared intently at Wang Lin. The initial awe that stemmed from Wang Lin’s five essences began to resurface.

“Such comprehension of the universe! In all my ages, I have never witnessed it in another. This insight far surpasses any innate talent! This boy’s mastery of the five essences is no mere stroke of fortune!” The ancient Vermillion Bird inhaled sharply, his gaze upon Wang Lin growing increasingly peculiar.

Unbeknownst to him, if Wang Lin were to master the ancient soul ban, there existed a sliver of possibility that he might fuse and comprehend the pinnacle of all restrictions, reaching the ethereal realm. From this, perhaps, his sixth essence, the essence of Void, might be born!

A faint chance, to be sure, but a chance nonetheless.

“Elder,” Wang Lin continued, his voice filled with a palpable excitement, “that strike you showed me… it was to teach me how to wield this recoil, to use it to slay my foes, to amplify the potency of my blows! To even alter the very nature of matter! It may not be a divine art, but it possesses a power that even divine arts struggle to replicate! Tell me, Elder, am I correct?”

A bright light shone within Wang Lin’s eyes, reflecting his joy. This application of power, while perhaps of little consequence to other cultivators who rarely engaged in physical combat, was of paramount importance to Wang Lin, the Ancient God. To him, it was akin to unlocking an entirely new form of divine art!

Within the depths of his Ancient God memories, no such technique existed. This lesson from the ancient Vermillion Bird held immeasurable value!

He recalled his battle against Tuo Sen. It was clear Tuo Sen excelled in this area far beyond Wang Lin. In their encounter, he had been but a child facing a fully grown warrior!

To say he relied solely on the brute strength of his Ancient God heritage was no exaggeration.

The ancient Vermillion Bird swallowed hard, a look of forced benevolence upon his face. An ancient being as he was, feigning wisdom came naturally. He nodded, his eyes filled with fabricated admiration, and spoke slowly, “Indeed, what you have surmised is the simple truth I wished to impart.”

Though his words conveyed a sense of composure, his thoughts were filled with apprehension. *By the heavens,* he thought, *I mustn’t let this boy see through my facade. If he were to realize that even I failed to comprehend this technique in my youth, I would lose all face as his senior! Had I known, I would have simply taught him the secret arts of the White Tiger or Azure Dragon clans. Those techniques are not meant for mortals! With this little monster’s comprehension abilities, he should be the one studying those things.*

The ancient Vermillion Bird cleared his throat several times, deftly changing the subject. His eyes widened as he barked, “Enough! You’ve learned the technique. Now, we shall proceed to your trials! After that, we shall deal with that Si Mo Zi and establish your authority!”

With a flick of his crimson sleeves, he enveloped Wang Lin in illusionary flames and soared towards the northwest.

As Wang Lin traveled within the illusory flames, he studied them closely, feeling a tremor of apprehension.

*These are the illusory flames… no heat emanates from them, yet they evoke a sensation as though my very soul is about to be consumed!*

With the ancient Vermillion Bird’s immense power, they arrived at the battlefield, located a thousand li northwest. Two cultivators engaged in a fierce battle, vying for the position of Elder.

Surrounding the arena were tens of thousands of spectators, each watching with rapt attention. In the air, several locations remained untouched, avoided by all cultivators.

One such place was occupied by Si Mo Zi and Yun Luo, the Great Emissary of the Elders Council!

Another, diagonally to the side, held a father and daughter, their bodies enveloped in azure light!

A lone figure resided in yet another location. A youth dressed in azure robes, reclining lazily upon a cloud, watched the battle below. After a yawn, he nonchalantly produced a peach from thin air and took a bite.

Finally, there was a massive, black, reptilian beast, coiled in the sky with a fearsome presence. Upon its back sat an elderly man clad in animal hides.

His face was covered in scars, his ears adorned with black earrings the size of fists. Even his lips were pierced by four crimson needles, sealing his mouth shut!

In that instant, the occupants of these forbidden areas stirred, their heads snapping upwards as one!