In the ethereal Cloud Sea Starfield, confined to the tenth order of realms, lay the spectral domain of the Ghost Sect. Shrouded in perpetual mists, the Ghost Sect remained an enigma, its disciples rarely venturing beyond its borders. Within the sect’s mountain sanctum, in a secluded cave of contemplation, sat an aged figure.

This elder, clad in verdant robes, bore a face etched with shadows and encircled by the eerie glow of countless ghost flames. The ethereal light painted him with an unsettling pallor, a visage of chilling menace.

Abruptly, the elder’s meditative trance was broken, his eyes snapping open, piercing the gloom. A wisp of smoke materialized before him, coalescing into a crane of cloud, an ethereal messenger bearing tidings.

“Grand Void of the Ghost Sect,” the crane intoned, “I offer five hundred million Yin-Yang disciples to the Demon Saint, in exchange for the Demon Saint’s intervention!”

Simultaneously, the six jade scrolls of the Water Daoist unfurled their pronouncements, unleashing a torrent of chaos upon the realms.

Across the four great starfields, the mighty cultivators preparing for war received the jade scrolls’ decree. The name of Wang Lin, known to some, new to others, echoed throughout the land.

The Celestial Banishment, returned!

Such news ignited a maelstrom of madness among those who understood its significance. It was a ruthless gambit, striking at the heart of morale on the eve of battle. Who could focus on war preparations? Though most were ignorant of the Celestial Banishment’s true nature, the Water Daoist’s accusations were enough to stir doubt and desire in every cultivator’s heart.

The Water Daoist’s words were cloaked in righteousness: Wang Lin was a traitor, a dog of the Outer Realms; to slay him was an act of heroism. Moreover, the scrolls bore an image of Wang Lin, an aged likeness, yet recognizable enough to spark recognition.

Only a few truly knew Wang Lin, and their disbelief was a mere ripple against the overwhelming tide.

In the Summoned River Starfield, upon a peak wreathed in clouds, sat a woman garbed in violet. Her form was indistinct, her appearance elusive, her raven hair cascading down her back.

She had been in slumber, but now her eyes slowly opened, glimmering like starlight through a veil of mist.

“Wang Lin… pawn of the Palm Sovereign…” she whispered.

Elsewhere in the Summoned River, a man in azure strolled leisurely, stifling yawns as he muttered to himself.

“Master Ma spoke of something hidden in the Summoned River. But where could it be?”

Suddenly, he paused, sensing something stirring. A peculiar grin spread across his face.

“Wang Lin? The little scamp from years ago… Interesting, very interesting!”

Within the sealed Rain Immortal Realm of the Alliance Starfield, Qing Shuang, wounded and secluded, opened his eyes. He recalled his encounters with Wang Lin, his brow furrowing in contemplation.

After a long silence, a cold light flickered in his eyes. He raised his hand, and the Rain Realm thrummed with power. Raindrops coalesced, streaming toward Qing Shuang, piercing his sanctuary to form a token of solidified rain in his palm.

This event startled Situ Nan, who awoke in a rage. He roared, “Which baseborn cur dares call my brother a traitor? The Celestial Banishment was my gift to him! If he’s a traitor, then so am I! I will not let this stand!”

“Sit,” Qing Shuang commanded, “I will handle this. And the Water Daoist is no mere cur; he is a servant of your grand-master.”

Situ Nan glared at Qing Shuang, undeterred. “You may be my master, but he is my brother. I have been at his side since he began his cultivation! He saved you from your slumber. Do you doubt his loyalty?”

“It is not a matter of trust, but of the Palm Sovereign…” Qing Shuang sighed, his face clouded with sorrow. He held the rain token aloft, imbuing it with his divine will.

“Wang Lin is my disciple! Let no one dare harm him!” The decree echoed forth, bursting from the Rain Immortal Realm, flooding the Alliance, and reverberating throughout the realms.

In the Cloud Sea, in the valley where the crimson-robed man resided, Lu Fuzi stood with the Demon Sect leader and others, bowed in respect.

The crimson-robed man listened intently to Lu Fuzi’s words, his expression unchanging, though a chill settled in his eyes.

“The Seven-Colored Realm… and the Palm Sovereign!”

Suddenly, the divine decree broadcast by the Divine Sect’s jade scrolls reached their ears.

“Impossible!”

“Wang Lin would never serve the Palm Sovereign!”

“The Celestial Sealing Sovereign himself declared that Wang Lin would lead our realm against the invaders!” Lu Fuzi and the Demon Sect leader cried out, their faces contorted in disbelief.

The crimson-robed man’s eyes gleamed with a cold light, and a smile touched his lips.

“I, Hong Xiu, was inclined to spare his cultivation. But since he seeks death… ah!” He lifted his gaze, his chilling glare softening into admiration.

“Since the boy seeks to prove himself, let us see if the Celestial Sealing Sovereign’s judgment was sound… After all, this is a matter for their own realm.”

In the Cloud Sea’s seventh-tier starfield, the Divine Sect’s branch surged into action. Hundreds of cultivators descended upon the quiet Gui Yuan Sect, crushing any resistance. The Gui Yuan Sect’s disciples were subdued, their cultivations sealed, and they were swiftly transported to the ninth-tier Divine Sect.

At the Divine Sect’s command, the branch disciples would end their lives!

Among the prisoners was Lü Yanfei, who remained silent and serene. She had long suspected that such a day would come, yet she felt no regret. Nor did any of the Gui Yuan Sect.

Without Lü Zihao, without Wang Lin, the Gui Yuan Sect would not exist.

Within the Ruptured Heaven Sect, the aging sect leader gazed upon his domain with a complex expression, then sighed, his face settling into quiet resignation as he journeyed toward the Divine Sect.
Within the Nine Heavens Divine Sect, nestled deep within a grand formation protecting the secluded sanctuary of Mu Bingmei, her eyes fluttered open. Silence hung heavy in the air for a time, broken only when her jade-like hand turned over, revealing a solitary pill. This elixir, a gift from the enigmatic Daoist of the Water, centuries past, was said to restore her cultivation, but at a price. The price, as he had declared, was to ingest it at the appointed hour.

Mu Bingmei, a woman of unwavering commitment, gazed upon the pill, her thoughts lost in the labyrinth of time.

As the Water Daoist’s decree echoed through the sect, the cultivators of the Cloud Sea rallied, converging upon the Nine Heavens Divine Sect. The opening of the transmission portals by the sect disciples accelerated the influx. In a span that felt like a heartbeat, ten thousand souls stood arrayed amidst the mists surrounding the sect’s perimeter.

These assembled warriors, drawn from myriad sects, swiftly began the construction of the Nine Extinction Heavenly Barrier, their desperate bulwark against the encroaching forces from beyond the veil.

Across the vast expanse of the Cloud Sea Starfield, Wang Lin strode forth, his eyes burning with glacial fury. He knew not the Water Daoist’s schemes in their entirety, but the sixth jade slip, its message seared into his soul, spoke volumes.

Silence was his only companion on this journey, yet the killing intent within him swelled with each step. It congealed, manifesting as a palpable aura of frost, initially confined to a thousand-foot radius. All within its grasp, even the ethereal star mists, surrendered to its touch, transforming into brittle, shimmering ice.

“To slay the Water Daoist is to silence the discord in my soul!” Wang Lin muttered, his countenance growing ever more placid, a deceptive calm concealing the tempest brewing within.

The Water Daoist must meet his end.

There would be no binding him as a thrall, for some were too vile for even servitude. Their fate was the void.

The memories of long ago, the sacrifices made by Li Qianmei, all pointed to the Water Daoist as the architect of despair. Had he not coveted Wang Lin’s celestial treasure, the Heavenly Jewel, none of this would have come to pass.

The killing intent that emanated from Wang Lin grew to epic proportions. The thousand-foot halo of frost spiraled outwards, consuming all in its path within a ten-thousand-foot radius. The mists themselves roared as they succumbed to the freezing grip.

From afar, Wang Lin’s passage carved a swathe of frozen devastation through the cosmos. He wielded no true elemental power over water, no innate mastery of cold. But he possessed a heart aflame with righteous vengeance, a reservoir of bloodlust born from betrayal. He lived by a simple creed: “I do not offend unless offended first, but if you offend me, you shall die!”

Just as the nine crimson drops of blood he had conjured before the sage, Master Lu, those drops held the very essence of Wang Lin’s principles.

He was neither a paragon of virtue nor a craven wretch. He was not resplendent with light, nor cloaked in shadow. He was Wang Lin, and his only desire was to keep his conscience pure before heaven and earth.

And those who sought to tarnish that purity would face his wrath! Death! Death! Death!

Under the weight of a lifetime of slaughter, as he traversed the Cloud Sea Starfield, the frigid aura around him spread uncontrollably. Ten thousand feet, fifty thousand, one hundred thousand!

An icy domain was born, the void itself entombed in frost. With a thunderous roar, Wang Lin surged toward the innermost depths of the Cloud Sea, towards the Nine Heavens Divine Sect!

In this relentless pursuit, a strange transformation occurred, an imperceptible shift within Wang Lin’s soul. No one could fathom its genesis – a fleeting thought, a pivotal moment – but the sum total of his life’s slayings began to coalesce, giving birth to a wisp of primal power!

The Origin of Slaughter! All things in creation could become an Origin, but the Origin of Slaughter was among the rarest and most elusive. Mere bloodshed was no guarantee; its emergence defied understanding, remaining shrouded in mystery to this very day.

With growing speed, Wang Lin pushed onward, the crackling crescendo of ice formation marking his passage. He plunged into the heart of the Cloud Sea, into the domain of the Nine Heavens!

In a single stride, the mists of the Nine Heavens roared in protest, freezing solid in a single, cataclysmic instant. And then, Wang Lin stood before the Nine Heavens Divine Sect!

“Water Daoist!” His voice, cold as the void, shattered the heavens, a thunderclap that echoed through the Cloud Sea!

“You conspired with the invaders from beyond, betrayed your oaths and sought personal glory! The Sealed Realm Sovereign spared your life then, but I, the one entrusted with his legacy, will now carry out his duty and strike you down!”

Wang Lin’s pronouncements held the weight of the cosmos, reverberating across the land.

This battle, a spectacle for countless eyes!

This battle, observed by the divine senses of immortals and the ethereal whispers of mighty beings!

This battle, the crucible in which Wang Lin would forge his legend within the realm!