A strange unease settled upon Wang Lin, pierced by the unwavering gaze of the Nether Beast. Memories belonging to the beast flashed in his mind – recollections of a pitiful soul, twice terrified within its vastness.

That poor wretch still resided within the Nether Beast’s internal realm, lost to time and space. Wang Lin spared no further thought for the unknown man. With a swift hand gesture and a touch upon the beast, its form flickered and faded into a spectral light, rushing towards Wang Lin with uncanny speed.

The light coalesced, merging with the second star point upon Wang Lin’s brow, vanishing without a trace.

He turned his gaze outward, towards the expanse of the Luo Tian Starfield. His affairs in this place were concluded, debts of fate settled, and glimpses of old acquaintances witnessed.

With no further desire holding him, Wang Lin sighed softly and began to walk away.

Within the Nether Beast’s interior, in a realm of boundless and shifting scale, a lone figure wandered amidst the swirling chaos. He was a disheveled cultivator, his face etched with bewilderment, having searched for an exit for centuries.

“That vile beast showed remarkable patience, waiting for this old Daoist for centuries! But in the end, it lacked my resilience. It departed all the same! But now, with the Seven-Colored Realm shattered, where in the heavens am I?”

Confusion clouded the cultivator’s eyes. The puzzle tormented him endlessly.

“Curse this place! Which starfield is this? I haven’t encountered a soul in centuries! Could this be a tear in the void? I refuse to believe it! I shall find my way out!” He encouraged himself, fighting against the madness of his endless search. With gritted teeth, he pressed onward.

Elsewhere in the Luo Tian Starfield, a crimson Cultivation Star pulsed with ominous light. Its baleful aura choked the surrounding void, its very presence a palpable stench of blood.

With a ripple in the fabric of space, Wang Lin appeared outside the sanguinary star.

His eyes fixed upon the blood-soaked world, Wang Lin raised a hand. A storage space materialized, and from it, the Ancient Fiend imprisoned within the Blood God Child was wrenched forth, its neck grasped firmly in Wang Lin’s hand.

“Speak. What secrets do you hold?”

“I will tell you, but you must grant me freedom!” The Ancient Fiend, its face contorted with terror and desperation, pleaded hastily.

“If your secret proves useful, I may grant you a sliver of life,” Wang Lin replied impassively.

“A sliver is not enough! If you do not release me, this Fiend will die before I speak! Not even soul-searching will avail you, for I am of the Ancient Fiend race and possess means to resist such intrusions!” Though fear gnawed at it, the Ancient Fiend snarled through clenched teeth.

Wang Lin stared icily at the Ancient Fiend, saying nothing. But under his scrutiny, the Fiend’s terror deepened.

“So be it,” Wang Lin said after a long silence, his hand poised to cast the Fiend back into its prison.

“I yield! I yield!” The Ancient Fiend shrieked, its voice laced with panic. “You must swear not to deceive me, and promise a chance at life in the end!”

Wang Lin frowned, impatience flickering in his eyes. The Ancient Fiend, sensing his wavering resolve, dared not linger further. It blurted out: “Within this Blood Star lies a hidden spatial fissure, and I alone know how to open it. Within it is an ancient altar, a relic of the Immortal Realm of old! It possesses incredible power. Those blessed with sufficient fortune may glean the Three-Life Technique from it!”

“Master the technique, and possess three lives!”

“Open it then!” Wang Lin released the Ancient Fiend, granting it a moment of freedom. The Fiend, cowed and desperate, dared not rebel. It flew towards the crimson star with unnatural speed.

Wang Lin followed close behind, his expression cold and unwavering.

A flicker of cunning flashed in the Ancient Fiend’s eyes, swiftly concealed in the depths of its heart. Reaching the Blood Star, it performed a series of hand gestures, touching the world with its power.

The entire star shuddered, the ground trembling under a deafening rumble. A colossal rift appeared, tearing through the world like a blade.

The fissure split the star asunder, severing it into two massive hemispheres.

Between the halves, strands of crimson energy connected, distorting the very light. Through the haze, a spatial tear, barely ten feet wide, could be seen.

The tear resembled a gaping maw, its edges sealed by ancient restrictions.

The Ancient Fiend stood respectfully outside the divided star, feigning fear. “It is here. The blood threads bear the mark of the Yao family, intertwined with my own fiendish energy. None but I can navigate this passage. Moreover, the rift is fragile. Forceful entry will shatter it.”

“Lead on,” Wang Lin commanded, his gaze sweeping across the network of blood threads.

The Ancient Fiend nodded eagerly and cautiously approached the barrier. The crimson strands seemed to sense its presence, retreating and parting a path.

Wang Lin followed close behind, his pace measured and unwavering.

The Ancient Fiend’s heart pounded in its chest. Freedom hung in the balance. As it neared the ten-foot rift, its tension peaked, yet its expression remained serene.

“This is it. The altar lies within,” the Ancient Fiend announced in a low voice, pausing before the rift. It waited, anticipating its captor’s next move – whether he would venture alone, command the Fiend to enter, or perhaps send one of his servants.

Regardless of the choice, the Fiend believed it could escape. The moment a figure entered the rift, it would seize its chance. Suppressing its fear, the Fiend prepared for its desperate bid for freedom.
“Your apprehension is palpable.” Wang Lin’s gaze fell upon the ten-zhang fissure, a rent in reality itself. Within, obscured by the cloying crimson mist, he discerned the vague outline of an altar steeped in a pool of blood, and spoke his thoughts aloud with measured calm.

The ancient demon shuddered, forcing a mirthless smile to his lips, but before he could utter a single syllable, Wang Lin’s next words struck him with the force of a celestial hammer, nearly shattering his very essence.

“This altar… this supposedly lost relic of the Extinction Clan of the Outer Realm’s Ancient Starry Skies… it bears little resemblance to those I’ve studied.” Wang Lin withdrew his gaze, a subtle amusement playing upon his lips as he regarded the ancient demon.

Unbelief washed over the demon’s face, a cacophony of dread echoing within his soul. How could this mortal know so much? How could he pierce through the veils of deception so easily?

“My patience, like the tides of eternity, has its limits. I pledged to offer you a thread of salvation, and I shall not break my word, yet. I extend to you one final chance. Unearth the *true* altar, and present it before me.” Wang Lin’s voice remained even, yet its very composure radiated an aura of terrifying, unknowable power.

“How much does he truly know?!” The demon’s heart trembled like a captive bird. He could glean no hint of Wang Lin’s intentions from his expression, yet the single sentence spoken moments ago had planted a seed of fear so profound it threatened to consume him.

“I shall grant you three breaths. One… two…” Wang Lin began, his voice a slow, inexorable countdown.

“It lies within this fissure, but not the structure you behold! If you doubt me, I shall venture in and retrieve it for you! Or, if you prefer, you may accompany me.” Desperation clawed at the demon’s features, his carefully constructed facade crumbling before the unrelenting gaze of the mortal. He had lost all semblance of resistance, replaced with the bitter taste of defeat.

“You shall enter alone,” Wang Lin replied, his voice now laced with an icy edge.

The demon’s spirit quailed. Slowly, with agonizing reluctance, he moved towards the chasm. As he neared the precipice, he caught a fleeting glimpse in Wang Lin’s eyes – a spark of mocking amusement, barely perceptible yet undeniable.

“Why is he so assured? Why would he dare let me enter? Has he perhaps… planted some hidden curse upon me? The moment I step across the threshold, will he trigger it, slaying me before I can even contemplate escape…?” The chasm’s edge, a mere step away, stretched before the demon like an infinite abyss. His right foot hovered in the air, poised to cross, yet he found himself frozen in place, paralyzed by indecision.

All these thoughts flashed through his mind in a fraction of a heartbeat. Gazing at the fissure before him, the urge to flee warred with a desperate gamble. He raised his foot, ready to plunge into the unknown, but then, a sigh echoed through the void. A single, mournful breath that shattered the demon’s resolve. He dared not risk it!

To win the gamble meant an uncertain fate, a battle against forces unknown.

To lose meant certain annihilation.

To abstain, however, offered a single thread of survival.

With genuine bitterness, the demon slowly retracted his foot, stepping back from the abyss. His right hand shot out, seizing the void before the fissure. The chasm trembled violently, and the altar within crumbled to dust. From its ruins, a blood-red pavilion hurtled forth, bursting through the rift and into the waiting void.

At once, the fissure snapped shut, vanishing as though it had never existed.

“The Extinction Clan’s altar is threefold, fragmented into three crimson pavilions. Here, you hold but one. The other two are lost, scattered across the cosmos. I pray you honor your vow and grant me the thread of life.” The demon offered a despairing smile, and closed his eyes, relinquishing all control. He could no longer discern the limits of his opponent’s knowledge, and in the end, lacked the courage to tempt fate.

Wang Lin waved a hand, sealing the demon within his storage ring. His gaze then fixed upon the crimson pavilion – a relic he himself possessed.

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Wang Lin retrieved the pavilion, took a step backward, and vanished into the vast expanse of the starry sky. His mind was sharp as a honed blade, and despite the demon’s cunning, Wang Lin, ignorant of the true secrets, had masterfully employed a subtle dance of words and expressions, transforming the encounter into a battle of minds. A battle in which the demon, undeniably, had been vanquished.

At the edge of the Luo Tian Starfield, where it bordered the Cloud Sea Starfield, Wang Lin materialized. His gaze swept over the void where the boundaries between realms had once stood, now a desolate emptiness.

“Dao Child… Suidaozi! For the ancient grudge, Wang Lin shall claim your soul!”

Far beyond, in the Outer Realm, on the Ancient Starry Skies, the decree of the Long Venerate resounded throughout the starfield, echoing through every tribe, piercing the hearts of all the Ancient Ones.

“By the decree of the Ancient Immortal Realm, tens of thousands of years have passed, and the power of the Seal has begun to awaken once more! Prepare for the Third War against the Sealed Realm! All Ancient clans of the Outer Realm shall henceforth obey the orders of the Long Venerate. Assemble your forces, bathe the Sealed Realm in blood, and annihilate all Ancient Beings within!”