The legacy of Tu Si, passed down through the ages, had accompanied Wang Lin for over a thousand years, yet now, its purpose was spent. Tu Si was merely an Eight-Star Ancient God, and his memories held no further sway.

Wang Lin’s right hand shimmered, coalescing the fragmented memories into a sphere of light. He gazed at it, a silent contemplation etched upon his face, before flinging it forth towards Tuo Sen.

“Take it!”

Kneeling, his chest a ruin of blood and flesh as he frantically healed, Tuo Sen looked up in bewildered surprise. He caught the object of his desperate quest, the thing that had driven him beyond the boundaries of worlds, the memory inheritance he craved above all else.

A tremor ran through his frame.

He had waited for this day for an eternity. From the moment he was but a single demonic thought, imprisoned for countless millennia, he had watched Wang Lin claim the legacy. The rage and hatred had been all-consuming.

For this memory, he would sacrifice everything. He broke free of his prison, seized the body of Tu Si, and began his long and arduous search. The journey was steeped in bitterness and despair!

He had dreamt countless times of wresting the memories from Wang Lin, of perfecting his own inheritance, of purging its flaws. Yet, never had he imagined that the object of his desire would be freely given!

Clutching the sphere of light, Tuo Sen fell silent. After a long pause, he raised his head, a complex mix of emotions in his gaze as he looked at Wang Lin.

“Thank you…” In all his life, Tuo Sen had never uttered that word. It held no place in his lexicon, for none were worthy of his gratitude. He deemed himself above such sentiment.

His arrogance and pride were woven into the very fabric of his being.

“With Tu Si’s legacy complete, will he awaken? Will you fade? I cannot know…” Wang Lin had taken a fragment of the Dao Ancient inheritance. Though small, it was unique. None but he could ever possess it.

If one day, Wang Lin’s cultivation grew strong enough to bear the full weight, he would return here and continue the lineage.

With those words, Wang Lin raised his hand. Ling Dong and Zhou Jin, witnesses to this strange scene, were instantly swept into the Emperor Furnace. He then retrieved the ancient demon corpse and placed it within his storage.

Gathering the Ancient Breath Leaf, the Blood Sword, and all else of value, Wang Lin strode forward. He possessed a fragment of Dao Ancient’s memories, granting him a deeper understanding of the first layer of the ancient tomb. As he walked, ripples formed beneath his feet, his form about to vanish from the palace.

But then, he stopped. A low murmur escaped his lips as he turned, his gaze drawn to a distant point in the void.

From the north of the palace, a ripple spread through the air. It grew ever larger, expanding into an immense, illusory net. A wave of pressure emanated from within, and a colossal shadow materialized behind it.

Those outside the net could see nothing, but Wang Lin, within the palace, saw it clearly: a monstrous silhouette lurking behind the barrier!

The shape was ovoid and immense. Countless tentacles writhed around its body, and blasts of Ancient God essence spewed from its maw, battering against the illusory net!

It was Wang Yue!

Atop Wang Yue’s head stood two figures: Ji Xiantian and Wu Dongchan! Their faces were etched with caution, ever vigilant for unexpected dangers.

Using Wang Yue, they had found this palace, bypassing the need for a tomb platform, much like Tuo Sen. They were preparing to force their way inside.

However, the palace’s defenses were formidable. Even Wang Yue, they estimated, would require considerable time to breach the barrier.

Though impatient, they were forced to bide their time.

A cold smile played upon Wang Lin’s lips. He stepped forward, arriving at the edge of the newly-formed net. With a powerful surge, he seized the illusion and tore it asunder!

The net shattered, creating a gaping rift. Ji Xiantian and Wu Dongchan stared in disbelief, before a hurricane of force exploded outwards.

They could offer no resistance against such power. Swept away, they screamed in agony, spitting blood. They did not even glimpse Wang Lin’s form, nor understand the origin of the storm, before they were consumed and deposited within his storage.

Even Wang Yue, the monstrous moon-beast, staggered back under the force, its dim eyes widening in alarm. The rune etched upon its brow, clearly a seal, pulsed with intense energy.

Wang Lin stepped through the rift, wasting no time. With a flick of his sleeve, Wang Yue shuddered violently. A massive tear in reality opened behind it, sucking the creature away, banishing it from the ancient tomb and into Wang Lin’s possession.

“Luo Chen… should still be inside Wang Yue…” Wang Lin never forgot the debt he owed Luo Chen. Securing Wang Yue, he sighed softly and stepped forward, his form vanishing from sight.

Now, the ravaged palace was occupied only by Tuo Sen. He stared at the legacy in his hand, his heart devoid of joy, filled only with doubt and confusion.

The inheritance he had craved his entire life was within his grasp, but he now questioned whether his lifelong pursuit had been right or wrong.

“Tu Si… from the moment I came into being, I knew I was born from a sliver of your demonic consciousness… but these memories, are they true or false…? Did you truly perish in the failed splitting of your spirit…? Or am I merely a fragment of your Mo Liu Spirit Division technique…? Am I Tuo Sen… or Tu Si…?” Tuo Sen’s eyes grew vacant, his mind lost in contemplation. He knelt in silence, oblivious to the passage of time.
Within the ancient tomb, as the rift to the primordial star realm sealed shut, a dense fog intensified, rolling like a tempestuous sea. A handful of cultivators remained trapped within its ethereal grasp.

Those who had survived the cataclysmic events possessed not only profound cultivation but also keen intellects, enabling them to evade the myriad dangers that plagued the tomb. Verily, these individuals represented the distilled essence of various clans from the ancient star realm!

Now, within the ninth map, amidst a chaotic vortex of spatial currents, Wang Lin’s form flickered into existence, gradually solidifying. His position lay in a different dimension from the palace, safely removed from the amorous clutches of the bewitching Wind Concubine.

Wang Lin held no further interest in the remaining cultivators of the ancient tomb. Though wounded by his roar, the likes of the Venerable Myouyin, the Nine Heavens Demon Lord, and the warriors of the Great Desolation possessed unfathomable power, honed over millennia.

He harbored no desire to repeat his past folly of recklessly confronting the Sovereign, a futile endeavor that aligned neither with reality nor his current aims.

Furthermore, the ancient tomb was now sealed, forever imprisoning its inhabitants, a fate that satisfied Wang Lin’s intentions.

Manifesting his presence, Wang Lin raised his right hand, seizing the void before him. The ninth map trembled as ripples tore through the ethereal fabric, birthing a colossal fissure.

From within this rift, a thunderous echo reverberated as a corner of a magnificent golden pavilion emerged.

“The Underworld…” Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed. He possessed fragmented memories of the Dao Ancient, revealing the method to retrieve the Underworld left behind by Ye Mo.

The towering golden pavilion bore three windows, its massive doors sealed tight. Through these windows, Wang Lin discerned three figures seated in meditative postures, radiating a resplendent light.

An immense aura of power emanated from the pavilion, enveloping all around.

The moment the pavilion materialized, every cultivator within the ancient tomb sensed its arrival, especially the trio of Myouyin, Nine Heavens, and the Great Desolation, who perceived it with unparalleled clarity.

Without hesitation, Wang Lin summoned the Underworld, drawing it forth from the rift with a sweeping gesture. He stored it within his spatial realm and vanished in a single stride.

He reappeared within the fifth map, before the sealed realm of the Ancient Breath Leaf. The area remained untouched since his departure. After a brief inspection, Wang Lin waved his hand, imprinting an Ancient Breath Leaf upon the seal. As the entrance opened, he claimed the leaf and stepped inside.

All remained as it was, the swirling vortex upon the ground persisting in its slow, perpetual rotation.

Standing beside the vortex, Wang Lin paused. His refined senses allowed him to detect the frantic movements of the surviving cultivators, drawn by the disturbance caused by the Underworld’s retrieval. Several powerful divine senses had locked onto him, racing towards his location.

With a flicker in his eyes, Wang Lin raised his right hand, forming a mystic seal. He thrust the seal towards the heavens, where it vanished without a trace. Yet, in its fleeting existence, the vast, misty seas beneath the nine maps of the ancient tomb’s first layer erupted with activity. Piercing shrieks echoed from the fog, as if countless battle spirits lay imprisoned within!

“A parting gift for you all!” Wang Lin’s seal was the key to unlock the second layer of the ancient tomb!

With a chilling smirk, Wang Lin plunged into the vortex. As his form dissolved, he clawed at the void behind him. The entire sealed realm shuddered, then vanished completely, taken by Wang Lin, along with the vortex, never to be seen again within the ancient tomb!

The instant the sealed realm disappeared, the trio of Old Man Myouyin arrived, but they were too late. They gazed upon an empty expanse!

At that very moment, within the palace, Tosen, who had remained silent, seemed to reach a decision. He pressed the memory inheritance he held to his brow!

Beyond the borders of the realms, in the Luotian Starfield, far beneath the Thunder Immortal Realm, where Greed Wolf had once been swept away, a silent rift materialized in the starlit sky. From within, a figure in white robes emerged.

The instant the figure appeared, a terrifying aura exploded from within, becoming a wave of pressure that consumed the entirety of the Luotian Starfield. Its sheer might sent shivers down the spines of all living beings!

Scholar Lu, the first to sense it, awoke from his meditation!

“Not the Ancient Star Realm outside the realms, but back to the Luotian within the realms… Home…” The figure in white, standing outside the rift, paused, a long-lost smile gracing his lips.