Within the ancient sepulchre, the count of surviving cultivators was shrouded in mystery. Fear twisted their faces as the swirling mists intensified, casting a pall of disorientation upon them. An unknown dread began to take root, blossoming within their hearts.

A band of some score of warriors, beset by savage beasts upon the third charted territory, fought with desperate valor. But as the miasma churned in a violent dance, like waves upon the ocean, the bestial humanoids faltered, terror gleaming in their eyes. Before they could retreat, the swirling mist crashed upon them, an unseen hand of colossal power, crushing them to oblivion.

The hapless warriors fared no better, their cries of anguish swallowed by the roaring tide as the vaporous deluge swept over them, leaving naught but silence in its wake.

In the fourth charted domain, a Sepulcher Platform, now of the third echelon, hurtled forward. Upon it stood a pale-faced cultivator, his eyes darting back in fear. Three Sepulcher Platforms, driven by avarice, pursued him, eager to seize the runes of his platform. Yet, the tumultuous sea of mist intervened. A colossal wave crashed upon the fleeing platform, shattering it into splinters, and with it, the hapless cultivator was consumed by the vaporous abyss.

The pursuers, witnessing this sudden doom, recoiled in horror. But the mist was relentless, surging forth with terrible speed. A single, crushing wave engulfed them, shattering both platform and riders into oblivion.

Such scenes played out across the ancient tomb, a tapestry of carnage woven in the ethereal gloom. Yet, amidst the desolation, a glimmer of hope emerged for the fortunate few who yet clung to life.

As the mists claimed countless souls, sigils of power, numeric runes, flickered into existence, igniting a frenzy of acquisition amongst the survivors.

Amongst these scavengers, none could rival the Great Desolate Ascetic. His Sepulcher Platform, already mighty, devoured the scattered runes with insatiable hunger, swiftly ascending to the fifth echelon.

As his platform reached this new height, he sensed the presence of others, his expression hardening.

At the far end of the eighth territory, the Nine Heavens Demon Lord, having scarcely quelled the disquiet in his heart, urged his seventh echelon Sepulcher Platform onward. Suddenly, his countenance twisted in disbelief, his platform shuddering to a halt, a feat never before seen.

“Impossible!” he roared, his voice laced with incredulity. He clearly felt the platform that just hours before had been upgraded to the seventh tier has now risen once more, becoming an eighth tier platform!

The first eighth tier platform!

This transformation defied his understanding. Shock reverberated through his soul. Had he not been upon his own platform, feeling the change so intimately, he would never have believed such a thing possible.

“Less than a day, and he ascends from fifth to eighth… This…” the Nine Heavens Demon Lord gasped, utterly stunned.

He, who had been so confident, so certain of being the first to reach the eighth tier, now stood in bewildered awe.

“Who is this interloper?!” The Nine Heavens Demon Lord’s eyes narrowed, a tempest of wrath and trepidation brewing within. He paused, then abruptly reversed his course, abandoning his eastward journey.

“I shall see who this audacious cultivator is! Slay him, seize his platform, and my hopes shall soar! And his secret of such rapid ascension… should I learn it, then the ancient and desolate Netherworld will surely be mine!”

Above the mists of the eighth territory, the woman in white robes scowled, her own platform frozen in place. After a moment of silent fury, she spat a curse and, mirroring the Nine Heavens Demon Lord, turned back, propelled by a nascent telepathic sense, toward the newly christened eighth tier platform.

She understood that if she did not unravel the mystery of this swift ascension, the unknown cultivator would likely reach the ninth echelon within hours. A prospect she, and the Nine Heavens Demon Lord, would never allow.

Within the ninth territory, the woman behind Tuo Sen upon his Sepulcher Platform rose to her feet. Her face, once radiant with charm, was now a mask of cold, calculated fury.

“This one must be eliminated. And the method of his swift ascent… if I cannot possess it, none shall!” She vowed in a hushed tone, her eyes gleaming with murderous intent. Ignoring Tuo Sen, she turned the platform, heading back the way she came.

The tides of destiny shifted, and every gaze, in this fleeting moment, was now focused upon Wang Lin!

Wang Lin himself sat in lotus position upon his colossal, eight thousand-foot Sepulcher Platform. Bathed in golden light, it resembled a second sun, pushing back the mists and commanding the very air around it.

Within Wang Lin’s mind, the eighth chart revealed itself, showing nearly all of the Ancient Tomb.

And in that instant, the voice of ages, a voice steeped in the primordial essence of the cosmos, spoke again for the fourth time!

“The realms of Heaven, Earth, and Man… of these, the Heavenly Realm holds the secrets of my heritage. Those of my clan, who pursue the limit of cultivation, shall be granted this legacy, returning to the ancient ways to find the Dao… and thence leave this realm, seeking our ancestral home…” As the voice faded, Wang Lin perceived three seventh echelon platforms speeding towards him. And in the fifth territory, a new fifth tier platform had been created. Wang Lin realized it must be the Great Desolate.

Now that the Great Desolate Ascetic was also on the way to him!

“In less than a day, I have advanced three echelons. Now they are frightened and coming to kill me to find my secret.” Wang Lin said, the corner of his mouth turned up to form a chilly smile.

From his vantage point, he could pinpoint their locations, but their search for him was blurry, a shadow of what it should have been.
Alas, the ancient demon artifacts were all but spent. Only one remained, yet even its sacrifice would not elevate the Tomb Platform to the coveted Nine Attachments. Having reached the Eighth Tier, the Tomb Platform seemed a bottomless abyss, and Wang Lin suspected the runes it demanded were vast indeed.

According to the laws of the Ancient Tomb, Wang Lin could slay those who pursued him, seizing their Tomb Platforms to meld with his own, thus achieving the Ninth Tier.

But such a path held no allure for Wang Lin. With a chilling smirk, he urged his Tomb Platform forward.

At the Eighth Tier, the Tomb Platform moved with the swiftness of a Third Step Ascendant, a speed far surpassing that of the Seventh Tier. Combined with Wang Lin’s uncanny ability to discern his pursuers’ locations, he felt confident they could not overtake him in the immediate future.

“Now,” he muttered, “I must seek out any remnant of the Ancient Demons, and by my own methods, hasten the Tomb Platform’s ascent to the Ninth Tier. Let us see who is swifter, they or I!”

Beneath him, the Tomb Platform hurtled forward, its golden light piercing the ethereal mist, forcing it to yield. Unhindered by the obscuring vapor, Wang Lin’s speed increased.

He knew his advantage lay in having been the first to achieve the Eighth Tier, the first to unlock the Eighth Map. While the others groped blindly, Wang Lin needed no guidance, for the Eighth Map, with all its paths and sealed sanctuaries, was etched within his mind.

“Speed is paramount!” Wang Lin declared, wasting no time. He closed his eyes, focusing all his senses on the location of his pursuers.

With a thunderous roar, and guided by Wang Lin’s cunning, he skirted past four figures who had been closing in, escaping the Sixth Map and entering the Seventh.

Within the Seventh Map, the Nine Heavens Demon Sovereign wore a grim expression. His quarry slipped through his fingers like an oiled eel, evading pursuit as if he possessed foreknowledge of their precise positions.

“The Eighth Tier Tomb Platform must grant a keener awareness of others,” the Demon Sovereign surmised, and with a flicker of his eyes, his hands wove a spell. The Tomb Platform beneath him thrummed, its speed surging as it charged forward.

The white-robed woman and the alluring courtesan, likewise, sped through the Ancient Tomb, drawing ever closer to Wang Lin.

Even the Great Wasteland Ascendant, though his Tomb Platform was only at the Fifth Tier, employed his powers as a Third Step Ascendant to force greater speed from his platform, keeping Wang Lin within pursuit.

Within the Seventh Map, Wang Lin snapped open his eyes. He felt the distinct presence of two auras drawing near, one to his left and one to his right, both aiming to intercept him.

His eyes gleaming, Wang Lin abruptly halted his Tomb Platform, ceasing its forward momentum. Instead, it ascended rapidly, soaring tens of thousands of feet into the air. The auras to his sides shifted, swiftly rising to match his altitude.

Before they could reach him, Wang Lin felt the surrounding mist compress, emitting a thunderous groan.

With a cold smile, Wang Lin halted his ascent and plunged his Tomb Platform forward. As he plummeted, Wang Lin rose to his feet, his gaze locked behind him, eyes alight with killing intent. He drew a deep breath, raising his hands and unleashing a torrent of marks, millions of them, coalescing into a grand illusion.

The mists churned as a sea of fire blossomed behind Wang Lin. From within the inferno, a colossal umbrella slowly materialized, its handle, ribs, and canopy forming one by one.

“The Ancient Umbrella of Annihilation!” Wang Lin roared, and as the immense umbrella fully formed, it revealed itself in its entirety.

“Umbrella Open, World End!” Wang Lin spat forth a mouthful of blood. It burst into flames as it struck the umbrella, causing it to open slightly, revealing a mere sliver of its interior.

From the crack beneath the umbrella, a wave of world-ending fire erupted, spreading in every direction with destructive force.

At that moment, a Tomb Platform materialized to the left, its size magnified a thousand times, the Nine Heavens Demon Sovereign’s form flickering within the mist. To the right, another Tomb Platform materialized, its size similarly amplified. The white-robed woman’s gaze, sharp as lightning, locked onto Wang Lin. For a fleeting moment, she seemed taken aback.