Within the selfsame ninth map, the Nine Heavens Fiend Sovereign’s avatar, its gaze gleaming with dark purpose, urged its sepulchral dais forward. His true self had already ventured into the ancient tomb, yet despite Wang Lin seizing the initial advantage, no apprehension gnawed at the Fiend Sovereign’s heart.

“Snatch what you will,” he mused, a chilling glint in his eyes. “For even should you plunder all, you shall not depart this tomb alive!” But as the words faded, the void before him churned violently, a tempest of chaotic energies erupting forth.

In that instant, a wave of colossal divine sense swept past, probing the Nine Heavens Fiend Sovereign’s divided form, its scrutiny intense and fleeting.

Yet that single pass sent tremors through the avatar. His very essence recoiled, his visage contorted in disbelief! For a fraction of time, as the divine sense washed over him, he felt utterly exposed, as though every secret, every hidden facet of his being, lay bare before its gaze!

Stunned, the Nine Heavens Fiend Sovereign’s avatar halted in mid-air, his eyes wide with profound shock.

He felt a primal dread, akin to that he experienced before ascending to the ranks of a Third Step cultivator!

“Who! Whose divine sense is this?!” The Nine Heavens Fiend Sovereign’s face paled, his gaze fixed on the void ahead, fear, for the first time in eons, taking root in his heart.

Nor was the Nine Heavens Fiend Sovereign’s avatar and the powdered woman alone in this experience. Within the ancient tomb, all surviving cultivators felt the overwhelming tide of that divine sense wash over them.

Hearts trembled in their chests!

The divine sense radiated an aura of overbearing might, as though a celestial emperor surveyed his dominion.

Within the seventh map, an old man clad in hemp, his lips pierced by three crude needles, exuded a palpable cruelty from his aged features.

The Grand Desolate Ascetic, his true form within the tomb, strode purposefully forward. His Empty Profound cultivation suffused his every step, granting him earth-shattering power, an irresistible force!

With five strides he could traverse an entire map, headed towards the front! But at that instant, his advance faltered, his eyes flashing with sudden brilliance!

Wang Lin, his divine sense merged with the will of the ancient tomb, swept over the Grand Desolate Ascetic, igniting a furious storm of energy. The Grand Desolate Ascetic, hands forming an arcane seal, reached out to seize the intrusive presence.

But as his hand brushed the divine sense, a counterforce of pure will erupted, slamming into the Grand Desolate Ascetic with tremendous force. He staggered backward, his face distorted, his very spirit reeling!

“Who dares trespass?!” he roared.

No answer came. The divine sense continued its inexorable spread, stretching beyond the seventh map, engulfing the sixth, the fifth…

Within the fourth map, the Nine Heavens Sovereign’s true form, alongside the Myriad Sound Elder, strode forward with composed expressions, crossing vast distances with ease.

But abruptly, the Nine Heavens Sovereign’s countenance shifted.

“My avatar…” He began, only to be cut short as the very same divine sense that his avatar experienced surged forth, engulfing him and the Myriad Sound Elder.

The Myriad Sound Elder’s pupils constricted, his spirit shaken by the passage of the divine sense. Such an occurrence was unheard of, and he cast a startled glance at the Nine Heavens Sovereign beside him.

The Nine Heavens Sovereign’s face was a mask of grimness, his eyes reflecting the same shock.

“Powerful!! Extremely powerful!!”

The third-ranked consort, the woman in white robes, within the ancient tomb abandoned her journey forward. She retreated rapidly, traversing map after map until she reached the first, forsaking the opportunities within to flee!

A sense of foreboding nagged at her, a premonition that to remain meant eternal entrapment!

As she fled, the divine sense descended, pausing briefly as it brushed past her. The white-robed woman paled, beads of perspiration forming on her brow, her body freezing in place, daring not to move.

Her heart hammered in her chest, feeling the intense scrutiny as if her very soul was laid bare. She swiftly suppressed the shame and indignation that threatened to overwhelm her.

At long last, the divine sense moved on, resuming its inexorable march forward.

Only after it departed did the white-robed woman exhale, her fair cheeks flushed with heat. After a moment of silent contemplation, she cast a complex look towards the direction the divine sense had taken.

Wang Lin sat upon the palace throne, his divine sense unfurling, unbidden, across the ancient tomb. He beheld all the Ancient Star cultivators within: the powder-faced woman exuding sensuality, the Nine Heavens Fiend Sovereign’s avatar!

And as it spread further, he saw the Grand Desolate Ascetic entering the tomb fissure, the Nine Heavens Sovereign’s true form, and the Myriad Sound Elder! Finally, he saw the woman in white.

With his divine sense extending again, instantly, he saw the fissure, the gateway from the ancient tomb to the Ancient Star.

Wang Lin’s senses settled at this fissure. Empowered by the will of the ancient tomb, Wang Lin perceived what would have been imperceptible to him, and the likes of the Myriad Sound Daoist.

This fissure was frozen open, and the great handprint in the sky still loomed over the entrance, with a hooded figure stood at the edge.

But when Wang Lin approached, the hooded figure looked up, and saw the projection of Wang Lin, the will of the tomb.

A silence hung in the air!

The two stared at each other through the rift!

“Who are you!” they both asked, as one. The voice from the hooded figure sounded as if it was eroded from the stone, a voice lost to time.
From within the chasm, the voice of Wang Lin echoed, not through spoken word, but through the psychic ripples emanating from the tomb’s very essence. It was an ancient sound, carrying the weight of countless ages.

“I am Zhianzun, of the Ancient Starry Sky,” intoned a figure garbed in shadows.

Silence descended within the fissure, broken only after a long, heavy pause.

“Whosoever you are, release them. I shall ensure a debt of gratitude beyond measure,” the figure in black spoke, a hint of unease in their tone.

“Fetching the moon from the bottom of a well… an intriguing art,” came Wang Lin’s response, resonating from the depths. The words struck the dark-clad figure like a physical blow, causing them to recoil. Without hesitation, a hand was raised, summoning the colossal palm print that hovered above. It descended with the roar of a thousand storms, aimed to crush the rift.

But it was too late.

Wang Lin was now one with the tomb’s will, its very being. The chasm, once meant to seal itself, was kept open by outside forces. Now, with Wang Lin’s thought, the fissure groaned, the energies holding it in place buckling beneath the immense power of the ancient sepulcher, infused with the lingering will of Daogu Ye Mo. The rift began to shrink, rapidly constricting.

With its closure, Wang Lin, fused with the tomb’s will, could lay a seal, ensuring this ancient place would remain undisturbed for millennia, trapping all within and severing a third of the Ancient Starry Sky’s might.

The shrouded figure, snarling, lunged towards the collapsing chasm. Their withered hand rose, melding with the descending palm print, becoming one. The immense palm was now an extension of their being, striking at the fissure with terrifying force. A searing heat radiated from the hand, not of fire, but of pure, blinding light.

It was the power of Primordial Dawn!

The light exploded outwards, the blow impacting the rift. The energy pierced through, aimed to obliterate Wang Lin’s consciousness. As it surged into the tomb, the very structure shuddered. The strike, landing on Wang Lin’s integrated will, sent shockwaves like a raging tempest, forcing his consciousness to reel.

The power contained within that single blow could shatter worlds, a force that tested the very limits of the cosmos.

But the will of the ancient tomb, imbued with the remnants of Daogu Ye Mo’s spirit, would not yield so easily. From the third layer of the tomb, a mighty roar erupted, a sound unheard by mortal ears, yet piercingly clear to Wang Lin, now one with the tomb. The roar surged through him, reaching his physical body within the palace, causing his eyes to blaze with golden light.

As the golden light erupted, the roar echoed within him, transforming into a pulse that poured into his throat. His jaw opened, unleashing the sound in a furious bellow.

ROAR!

A roar that shook the heavens and rent the earth!

Tempests engulfed the sky. Tuosen coughed crimson, flung backwards, his arms raised in futile defense. In an instant, flesh peeled from bone, revealing the stark white of his skeleton.

It was the collapse of a nine-star Royal Bloodline Ancient God!

The roar emanating from Wang Lin reverberated through the entire tomb. The Nine Heavens Devil Lord’s divided self crumbled to nothing, offering no resistance. The Fourth Consort of the Eight Ancient Beauties, a woman of alluring grace, spat blood. The shimmering silk she wielded to evade the colossal hand, a gift from an Ancient Immortal, shattered. Her physical form exploded in a scream, her essence fleeing, resorting to forbidden arts to cling to a fragmented existence.

The Great Desolate Sage, the true form of the Nine Heavens, the Old Master of Myriad Sounds – all three choked on blood as their mortal forms disintegrated. Their void-defying cultivation proved insufficient against this primal scream.

But as beings of such profound power, they possessed means of survival. Their spirits lived on, snatching at prepared replacement bodies, their eyes burning with terror. They dared not venture further, retreating, seeking escape from the tomb.

The roar thundered towards the chasm of the first map, colliding with the palm print in a cataclysm of unseen force!

The power of a single roar!

Wang Lin roared, and in his ears, he heard a whisper: *Moon tickets!*