Time, like a phantom, slipped away, and three suns had risen and set. In these fleeting days, Wang Lin ceaselessly channeled the discordant power within his mortal shell into the six demonic stars nestled within his right eye, seeking to diffuse the burden.

Gradually, the six stars within his gaze became awash in a golden hue, veiled beneath shimmering lightning, obscuring them from prying eyes. Only then did the relentless pressure of the rejecting force abate, its advance stilled, though only by a fraction.

Yet, such measures were but a delay, not a true remedy. The insidious power remained, a specter haunting the corridors of Wang Lin’s mind.

He opened his eyes, his countenance a mask of grim determination. Ignoring the raving lunatic, he instead turned his gaze towards the heavens above.

*Within the battlefield, after claiming the Bow of Li Guang, the Nether Beast disgorged a tempest of gold, and at my silent command, it engulfed me… This realm in which I now dwell is surely the belly of that beast. To escape it would be a simple matter…* As these thoughts churned within him, the madman, spying Wang Lin’s awakening, perked up, his finger jabbing accusingly as he rasped, his voice grave,

“Speak! Who taught thee the Immortal Body of the Immortal Clan, curse them all! This King would see which wretch dared such a deed!” The lunatic’s solemnity was punctuated by a flicker of fury across his brow.

Wang Lin, startled, turned his gaze upon the madman, scrutinizing his features. Recollecting the events prior, a certainty took root: the man was indeed a madman, and one afflicted with a memory as fleeting as a butterfly’s.

*This one is of high origin, claiming to be a King, and his words are of great import… Who, then, is he truly?*

Sensing Wang Lin’s scrutiny, the madman’s eyes lit up, as if the previous exchange had vanished from his mind. A sly grin spread across his face as he chuckled, “Ah, a fair maiden! Grant this King but a smile, and thou shalt be rewarded! Greatly rewarded, I assure thee!”

Wang Lin’s brow furrowed, his face hardening with indifference. He gave the madman no heed, and with a flick of his wrist, a bow materialized in his hand.

This bow, since the moment of his awakening, had become intertwined with his very lifeblood. Even should his flesh be shattered, it would remain unscathed, one with the core of his being. A mere thought summoned it forth.

Alas, its string lay broken, rendering it useless. Gazing upon the bow, a torrent of emotion washed over Wang Lin, and with a sigh, he concealed it, his gaze again lost in contemplation.

*By what means can I vanquish this power that seeks to consume me?*

Ignored, the madman scoffed, muttering to himself, “Smile not, then smile not! This King shall withhold his bounty! My blood, you see, is of immense worth, each drop more valuable than a thousand fortunes! Not a drop for thee! Not one!”

Yet, his eyes betrayed him as a cunning glint ignited within them. He faced Wang Lin with a triumphant air. “Very well, very well. This King is of a generous heart. If thou art shy, thou mayest smile another day. Tell me, fair maiden, thy name, and thou shalt be rewarded!”

“Dost thou scorn me even thy name? If so, tell this King at least thy age! Tell me thy age, and thou shalt have a reward beyond measure!”

“Though thou art stubborn, fear not. This King cherishes such spirit! Thy resistance only fuels this King’s desire!”

The madman erupted in laughter, his words tumbling forth in a torrent of nonsense. He began to circle Wang Lin, his babbling never ceasing.

Wang Lin, weary of the incessant noise, at last met the madman’s gaze and spoke, his voice low and cutting, “Silence.”

The madman froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. He ceased his circling, his mouth agape as he roared, “No one speaks to this King thus! Thou art audacious, fool!”

A flicker of frigid light ignited in Wang Lin’s eyes. He raised his hand, and a golden gale materialized, shaking the very core of the realm. It caught the lunatic in its grasp, flinging him towards the horizon with a shriek that faded in the distance.

*Silence at last…*

Wang Lin lowered his arm, his gaze again lost in the depths of his thoughts.

Yet, Wang Lin underestimated the determination of a madman. Scarcely had his contemplation begun than distant roars echoed across the land. The madman returned, sprinting with surprising speed, his mouth wide, ready to unleash another torrent of words.

“…Kn…”

Wang Lin lifted his hand, and the gale returned, snatching the madman away with a howl of dismay.

Once, twice, thrice… Seven, eight times the madman suffered the wind’s wrath, yet each time he returned with undiminished fervor, determined to speak the word that lingered on his tongue.

On the fifteenth iteration, the coldness in Wang Lin’s eyes deepened. He detected a hint of glee in the madman’s cries. When he returned for the sixteenth time, Wang Lin, no longer raising his hand, waited for the words to be spoken.

“…Exhilarating!!” The madman cried, his face flushed with excitement, then he closed his eyes in an apparent state of bliss, awaiting some unknown reward.

A moment passed, and confusion clouded his face. He opened his eyes, meeting Wang Lin’s gaze, a gaze as frigid as the eternal frost.

*The story continues from here. Please provide the subsequent section.*
From the swirling mists of the Cloud Sea Continent, Wang Lin had plucked this beast. A Shadow Ape, its strength was meager, yet its soul resonated with the primal call of the roar.

As if summoned from the void, the Shadow Ape bellowed a challenge to the heavens. Its thick arms flailed, pounding upon its chest with resounding booms.

The Madman paused, his gaze flickering to the ape. A manic glee ignited his eyes. He lumbered to face the simian, mirroring its actions, and unleashed his own earth-shattering roar, mimicking the rhythmic thuds upon his breast.

Confusion clouded the Shadow Ape’s eyes. It fixed its stare upon the volatile figure before it, recognizing the gauntlet thrown. Fear, a chilling presence emanating from the Madman, threatened to consume it. Yet, under Wang Lin’s mental command, that fear slowly dissipated, replaced by the primal fire of rage. It roared again, its voice raw with defiance.

Thus began a duel of roars, face to face, a symphony of savage sound that threatened to shatter the very stars above. Each sought to drown out the other, a contest of dominance echoing across the barren landscape.

Wang Lin, unburdened by the chaotic din, turned inward. He closed his eyes, seeking a path through the treacherous currents of the internal conflict that plagued him. Slowly, a glimmer of understanding emerged from the darkness.

“The Five Essences… the most perilous are Life and Death, Cause and Effect, Truth and Falsehood,” he murmured, his thoughts taking form. “If these three were mastered, forged into true Daos, I could wield a mystic art, bending the forces of rejection within my being.”

“With the Essence of Life and Death, to perceive the mortal coil, to manipulate its transition, dividing the rejection into twin streams – one of existence, one of oblivion…”

“With the Essence of Cause and Effect, to create a cycle, binding these two currents in a perpetual dance…”

“And finally, with the Essence of Truth and Falsehood, to deceive the rejection itself, to weave an illusion that merges the Yuan Immortal and the Dao Ancient into a seamless whole!” Determination blazed in Wang Lin’s eyes as he refined his plan, his path now clear.

“Thus, the Five Essences complete, granting me the five fingers I need to grasp the Empty Gate, to ascend as a true Third Step Immortal! Then, what might I become?” Wang Lin’s fist clenched, anticipation surging through him.

“Life and Death, Cause and Effect, Truth and Falsehood… I have pondered their attainment, yet I lack a key component, a catalyst to solidify my grasp!”

“Dao Fruits. I require Dao Fruits, many as I can acquire!”

His musings were interrupted by the fading roars. The Shadow Ape, exhausted by the relentless auditory assault, whimpered, its voice hoarse, its gaze toward the Madman filled with abject terror.

It staggered backward, retreating from the field of battle, and looked imploringly towards Wang Lin.

The Madman, drunk on his victory, grinned. Though his face was etched with fatigue, and his voice rasped with strain, a triumphant gleam shone in his eyes. He pounded his chest with renewed vigor, croaking, “From my youth, I roared my brother into obedience! Even Little Red trembles at my approach! The entire Immortal Astral Continent knows my voice is the loudest, my roar the sweetest! How dare a mere monkey challenge the King!”

“Come, come, let us be done with roaring and test your skills in divine arts! Behold, my creation, is it not a thing of beauty?” He gasped for breath, then pointed to the heavens. The very sky above the cultivation star shimmered, bursting with celestial light. Within that radiance, a colossal hand materialized, exuding an ancient, overwhelming power. The very lines of its palm were etched with divine force as it descended, a crushing palm print from the heavens.

“A Spirit Imprisoning Seal!” Wang Lin’s eyes widened, his face a mask of awe. He remembered the Madman’s earlier displays, when Wang Lin himself was paralyzed, each technique executed with flawless perfection.

He stared at the descending Seal, his heart pounding.

This, following the blood of the Immortal, was yet another priceless gift bestowed by the Madman.