Years spun into legends. Xiu Shi, once a mere窥涅 cultivator who tasted the iron of the Cloud Sea War, now stood as a 天人 first stage cultivator, the esteemed Elder of a humble sect nestled within the Cloud Sea.

He possessed the right to hold court and impart wisdom. It was during one such lecture that a disciple dared to ask, “What is Glory?”

And thus, he spoke:

“Glory is a force of will, a chaotic and unyielding spirit. It knows only one desire: never to yield, never to allow the enemy to gain an inch. Even in death, it seeks a glorious end!

“Alas, not all cultivators can embrace such madness. Fear, it lingers. Especially when comrades fall like withered leaves, when legions of tens of thousands dwindle to mere thousands… who then can deny the chilling touch of fear?

“In the face of oblivion, ‘Glory’ becomes but a fleeting illusion. Few can hold onto it with death staring them down. Yet, the memory of that fateful day, of one man’s words, changed everything.

“He revealed to us the true meaning of ‘Glory.’ His words echo still within my heart, a burning ember that rekindles the fervor of that bygone era…”

Wang Lin’s eyes burned with a fierce light, for in his memories, he walked the field of war again. Retreating step by step, he had witnessed the frenzied valor of the Cloud Sea cultivators, the faces etched in determination, felt an unexplainable energy in the air.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!” Wang Lin whirled about, plunging headlong into the heart of the Realm Beyond army. His left hand rose, unleashing a torrent of searing flames that engulfed all who stood before him.

His right hand crackled with thunderous power, weaving a tapestry of lightning that consumed the heavens and swallowed the Realm Beyond invaders whole.

He was isolated, severed from the Cloud Sea armies, alone within the enemy’s den. Each swing of his hand brought forth screams that tore through the battlefield, for his eyes were glazed with bloodlust. The number of those he had slain was countless.

He knew only that all around him were foes. The Blood Sword danced, a crimson whirlwind snatching the lives of those who dared draw near.

Suddenly, three spectral figures surged from the ranks of the enemy army, heading toward Wang Lin. They were clad in purple robes, their faces obscured by shadow. As they approached Wang Lin, they ascended, forming a triangular formation. With frantic gestures, they chanted in unison:

“We, descendants of the Sealed Extermination Clan, offer our life force! We call upon the ancient arts of our kin to seal this man’s essence!”

“We, descendants of the Sealed Extermination Clan, offer our life force! We call upon the ancient arts of our kin to seal this man’s lifeblood!”

“We, descendants of the Sealed Extermination Clan, offer our life force! We call upon the ancient arts of our kin to seal this man’s corporeal might!”

With each incantation, a Sealed Extermination Clan seal blazed from the brows of the purple-robed figures, a wave of terrifying pressure crashing toward Wang Lin.

Wang Lin, lost in the throes of battle, lifted his head. His bloodshot eyes burned with a fevered intensity. This brutal struggle had drained his essence, for this was not a duel against a single foe, but a war against tens of thousands.

Here, there were no intricate techniques, only the desperate desire to slay more invaders.

All spells and powers were made simple on the battlefield: Kill! Kill! Kill!

The three seals hurtled towards him, striking Wang Lin without resistance. The seals of the Sealed Extermination Clan were impossible to resist, and it was this invulnerability that made them so deadly.

With a guttural roar, Wang Lin raised his right fist, striking out with a blow that conjured a whirlwind. The phantom fist passed harmlessly through the seals, which then made contact with his body. At the same time, the blow slammed into the three purple-robed figures!

The first seal struck Wang Lin’s brow, sending a shudder through his being. It plunged into his essence, instantly sealing every trace of his Yuan energy.

The second seal followed, landing upon his forehead. His features aged rapidly, his youthful face turning frail and ancient.

The third seal fell, causing Wang Lin’s body to tremble. The power of his Ancient God bloodline vanished, sealed away within his brow.

Three glowing sigils now adorned his forehead, spreading countless veins of ethereal light across his body, an ethereal net binding his power.

His Yuan energy, his lifeblood, his corporeal strength… all were trapped.

But the sealing of Wang Lin came at a heavy price: life itself. The three purple-robed figures had barely cast their seals when Wang Lin’s fist slammed into them.

The wind tore away their hoods, revealing three aged faces, faces of quiet acceptance. They had known from the start what their lives would cost. As the fist rushed toward them, they closed their eyes, embraced their doom.

They had been raised by the 長尊會, their purpose was to seal away mighty cultivators. To trade their lives to bind a great power, that was their only purpose.

The phantom fist crashed through their bodies, shattering their purple robes and obliterating their flesh. The sealing power lingered.

From afar, the Grand Scribe Yun Luo watched. He raised his hand, pointing toward Wang Lin. A decree spread among the ranks, sending swarms of vicious invaders toward the weakened man.

“He is sealed! Kill him, and your name shall be etched upon the Ancient Starry Chart!”

“He is nothing but trash! Kill!”

“He has slain our comrades! He is a third step great cultivator, today we slay him to shock the Realm Within!!”

Stripped of his strength and unable to even float, Wang Lin plummeted. Tens of thousands of cultivators converged upon him, their faces twisted with murderous intent, their artifacts gleaming with deadly light.

Countless treasures and blades rained down upon him, causing him to cough up blood.
“Accursed Kin!” Wang Lin roared, the imprisoned power within him—the might of the Ancient God, the spark of life itself—surging against the seal that sought to obliterate his lineage, desperate to shatter its confines.

A thunderous clamor erupted as thousands of flying swords descended upon Wang Lin, each strike a painful lash. His body, awash in crimson, coughed up blood, yet his eyes burned with chilling defiance.

Then, in a cacophony of arcane powers, the tens of thousands of cultivators descended, their spells and abilities crashing upon Wang Lin. An aged Outlander, his face contorted in fury, lunged forward, his right hand raised high.

“Die!” he bellowed, his hand hurtling towards Wang Lin’s crown.

But the moment his palm made contact, the old sorcerer shrieked in agony. He recoiled, clutching his shattered arm, the bones within pulverized by the sheer resilience of Wang Lin’s flesh.

A tide of Outlanders surged forward, a multitude of hands striking Wang Lin’s body in unison. A fresh torrent of blood gushed forth.

Behind them, hundreds, then thousands, unleashed a maelstrom of spells, their power a relentless assault upon him.

Though his flesh bore the brunt of their onslaught, the fire in Wang Lin’s eyes only intensified.

“Is this all you possess?” Wang Lin’s voice, though faint, carried to the ears of the cultivators, none of whom were mere mortals. “Is this the sum of your strength?”

“Arrogant fool!”

“Attack as one, and let us see if he can withstand the might of the collective!”

“What manner of flesh does he possess? It defies belief!”

Not only the Outlanders were stunned. The Cloud Sea cultivators, witnessing this spectacle, felt their hearts lurch with a chilling realization: the identity of the defiant warrior.

In that instant, a frenzy seized them. They surged forward, desperate to shield Wang Lin from the relentless assault.

While the Outlanders reveled in their viciousness, Wang Lin’s resilience only deepened their resolve. They unleashed their full power, each cultivator channeling the most potent spells they had mastered in their lives, weaving a storm of destruction that shook the very stars.

This tempest raged, hurtling towards Wang Lin.

Suddenly, Yun Luo, the Grand Astrologer who had been observing from afar, blanched. Cracks spiderwebbed across her spellcasting hand, drawing blood.

“This cannot be allowed to continue!” she cried, but her warning came too late.

As the storm of a thousand spells crashed upon Wang Lin, his eyes burned with cold fury. He steeled himself, allowing the tempest to engulf him.

The world roared as he was consumed. Blood sprayed from every pore, his eyes grew dim, his body screamed in agony. Yet, with a defiant cry, he raised his head, and within the fading light of his eyes, a feverish battle lust ignited.

The storm raged around him, tearing at him, but Wang Lin, harnessing its force, shattered the first seal that bound him.

As the seal of nascent power broke, Wang Lin threw back his head. He stepped forward and raised his right hand, ethereal flames coalescing around him. A chorus of screams erupted as the fire claimed its victims.

The second seal shattered, and the aged lines upon Wang Lin’s face vanished, replaced by the youthful features of a warrior reborn. His wounds began to heal with unnatural speed.

The third seal crumbled, and the power of the Ancient God surged forth from his brow, infusing his very being.

“Have you… had your fill?” Wang Lin’s voice, now amplified by the power surging through him, thundered from within the dissipating storm.

**(Author’s note: I’m in Beijing! Settling into my hotel and waiting for some friends. Prepared to be drunk for the next few days! I’ll keep writing. There will be another update tonight, even if I’m completely hammered. Don’t worry, everyone.)**

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