A palm print, every line etched with impossible clarity, hovered in the air, real as any tangible thing, defying illusion.

This sigil bore a striking resemblance to the Spirit Devouring Imprint Wang Lin had studied, yet subtle differences plagued him. The imprint he knew was a simple, gargantuan hand, lacking such intricately defined lines. Upon manifestation, it greedily absorbed the power of heaven and earth, swelling to colossal size, a feat of terrifying magic, but unruly in its raw strength.

Inevitably, as the Spirit Devouring Imprint grew, glutted with stolen energy, it would slip from its master’s control. Wang Lin understood this flaw stemmed from his own imperfect comprehension, not from a true inheritance. The authentic Spirit Devouring Imprint, as wielded by the Water Daoist, lacked such deficiencies.

Yet, even the Water Daoist’s rendition, its palm lines paled in comparison to the maddening clarity of the one conjured by this lunatic. Furthermore, an unsettling ripple of power emanated from its edges, like the crushing shockwave of the Xuanwu’s mightiest spell!

Vibration! Force of shattering tremors!

As he observed, Wang Lin’s expression hardened. The Spirit Devouring Imprint descended with deafening thunder, slamming into the earth. The ground buckled, and a wave of force ripped upwards, swallowing the surrounding landscape in a swirling mist.

Caught beneath the brunt of the spell, Wang Lin felt the imprint’s oppressive weight. His eyes burned with calculating fervor as he dissected the intricacies of its shifting energies, seeking to grasp its true potential.

“Impressive…a Spirit Devouring Imprint indeed.” Vibration outward, forcing the world’s own tremors into submission, enslaving primal forces to manifest a tangible palm…or perhaps enslaving the very essence of Heaven and Earth to create a spirit, then imbuing that spirit with Celestial Power to birth the true Spirit Devouring Imprint. Yet, crucial details eluded him, obscured without the secret incantations of a true inheritance. Wang Lin licked his lips, a gleam of hunger lighting his eyes.

When the dust settled, the lunatic stood triumphant, roaring with laughter.

“Well? Well?! Is the King’s spell impressive or not?” Though the boast was seemingly directed at the hulking Black Ape, the madman’s gaze darted to Wang Lin, filled with a smug satisfaction.

Wang Lin smiled.

His grin widened as he met the lunatic’s gaze. This unnerved the madman, who glanced down at his own form, scratching his head in bewildered confusion.

“Acceptable,” Wang Lin said, his voice measured, “but this technique…I too possess it. And mine holds far greater power.”

The lunatic’s eyes narrowed with disbelief. He pointed a gnarled finger at Wang Lin, baring his teeth, “The King’s magic is unmatched! No one rivals me, save my esteemed brother! Hmph! You seek to pilfer my secrets? I warn you, my brother forbade me from sharing this divine art with anyone! Beat me to a pulp, and I shall still not teach you!”

“Many moons ago, one who shall remain nameless attempted the very same deception. I pierced through their ruse with a single glance! The King is wise, and no one can deceive me!”

Wang Lin remained silent. He raised his right hand, pressing it towards the sky. The heavens groaned, and a hazy palm print materialized overhead, hungrily devouring the surrounding energies. It solidified with astonishing speed, plummeting earthward.

As it descended, an immeasurable pressure descended with it, the wind howling like tormented spirits, tearing at the very fabric of the land. Cracks spiderwebbed across the earth, yawning chasms ripping open the soil.

The wind whipped the lunatic’s tangled hair around his face. He stared, transfixed, as the palm hurtled towards them. Just before impact, Wang Lin’s eyes flashed. He inhaled deeply, thrusting his right hand forward, intoning, “Condense! Condense! Condense!”

With each utterance, the descending palm shrank violently. Yet, even as it diminished, it teetered on the edge of instability, threatening to shatter beyond control. Finally, with a cataclysmic boom, it struck the earth, causing the entire cultivation star to shudder. The lunatic was thrown into the air by the force of the impact.

A colossal palm imprint, thousands of feet across, was burned into the distant earth, resembling nothing so much as a gaping wound upon the world.

“When you can unleash your spell with such control, leaving a crater of similar magnitude,” Wang Lin spoke slowly, a carefully crafted hint of disdain lacing his words, “then, and only then, will I concede that your power is truly exceptional.”

The contemptuous tone struck a nerve. The lunatic’s face flushed crimson. He flailed his arms wildly, beating his chest in a frantic imitation of the Black Ape. In his mind, this frantic gesture conveyed an aura of unbridled dominance.

“The King is supreme! You shall see!” The madman charged forward, unleashing his own magic. He raised his right hand to the heavens, roaring the incantation. Another gigantic palm print materialized and, with a sweep of his arm, was flung towards the ground. It struck with a muffled thud, kicking up a cloud of dust and leaving only a shallow impression in the soil.

The lunatic paused, staring at the pathetic mark. Then he glanced at the titanic crater carved by Wang Lin’s spell. His eyes widened with manic fury, and he resumed his assault, conjuring and unleashing the same Spirit Devouring Imprint again and again.

Wang Lin watched, his mind ablaze with furious calculations, burning the nuances of the spell into his memory. He had forgotten everything else, his world reduced to the ebb and flow of the lunatic’s ceaseless incantations!

Never had he encountered such an opportunity, a chance to witness the same spell performed repeatedly before his very eyes. Such fortune was rare, even between master and disciple.

Half an hour passed. The lunatic had cast the Spirit Devouring Imprint dozens of times, the repeated strikes deepening the original indentation but still falling far short of Wang Lin’s abyssal crater.

The madman was panting, exhausted. He pondered giving up but caught Wang Lin’s gaze. The unmistakable contempt on the man’s face fueled a fresh surge of anger.

“Curse you, I will not be outdone!” He roared, forgetting his weariness, and unleashed the Spirit Devouring Imprint again.

One hour. Two hours. Three. Each time he faltered, he caught a glimpse of Wang Lin’s rising scorn, and the sight spurred him on.

Wang Lin’s eyes were bloodshot, his hand weaving intricate patterns in the air as he sought to decipher the nuances of the spell, his astounding intellect piecing together the fragments.

Six hours later, the lunatic had cast the spell hundreds of times, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.

“Blast it, I am spent! I shall not play these games any longer. I am bested, so be it! The King needs his rest!” He muttered, preparing to quit, when a stray glance at Wang Lin stopped him cold.

A glimmer of shock flickered in Wang Lin’s eyes!

That single flash of surprise galvanized the lunatic. He threw back his head and bellowed, pounding his chest with renewed vigor.

If Wang Lin had still appeared scornful, the exhausted madman would have abandoned the effort entirely. But the brief glimpse of astonishment was intoxicating, spurring him onward.

“Ha! The minx has lost his sneer! Very well, I shall redouble my efforts, and show him the true might of the King!” With renewed zeal, he launched another attack.

Wang Lin’s gaze flickered, his mind working furiously. As time wore on, the image of the palm print began to coalesce within his mind, etched ever deeper into his consciousness.

Four hours, five hours… After seven long hours, the lunatic’s voice was raw, his eyes bloodshot. In a final, desperate roar, he slammed the last Spirit Devouring Imprint into the earth. The ground trembled as the relentless assault finally yielded a pit of comparable depth to Wang Lin’s original crater.

The lunatic collapsed, sprawled on the ground, gasping for air. Yet, he rallied, hoarsely croaking, “Well? Well?! Is the King’s spell impressive now?!”

Wang Lin’s voice held a note of undisguised awe as he stated, “I need to examine this personally.”

“Be my guest, for the King shall wait!” The lunatic’s eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction. Wang Lin’s astonishment was a balm to his wounded pride, rendering his exhaustion irrelevant.

Wang Lin rose and walked towards the pit, his movements measured and solemn. He studied it with meticulous care. Although feigning rest, the lunatic tracked his movements, eager to witness even greater wonder on his face.

However, a creeping unease began to stir within him. Wang Lin’s expression, once awestruck, gradually morphed into placid indifference. The exhilarating contempt had returned!

Seeing the scorn, the lunatic’s fury erupted.

“To think you would resort to such treachery, claiming the King’s power could never rival yours. You have tampered with my work!” Wang Lin shook his head, the contempt in his gaze intensifying. He turned and returned to his original position, ignoring the lunatic’s existence.

The lunatic gaped, his face turning red. He charged towards Wang Lin, roaring, “Nay! The King has done nothing of the sort!”

“The incantation you used these past hours differs from the original. Do not attempt to deceive me.” Wang Lin opened his eyes, his voice cold.

“You slander me! I used the very same incantation! Never would I stray from the path! Examine my work! Look closer! See, the King speaks only the truth!” The lunatic was distraught, tears welling in his eyes. He felt deeply wronged. He had toiled for hours, pushing himself to the brink, only to be accused of cheating.