Despite his haughty words and disdainful demeanor, Grand Astrologer Tianzhao felt a profound unease. The name of Wang Lin, the Sealed Paragon, echoed like thunder in his ears, though he hadn’t witnessed the legend firsthand.

He remembered the Fire Finch Clan’s ancestor, cleaved in two by a single axe blow. While this caused a momentary flicker of his eyes, the death of a mere nascent Void cultivator was of little consequence to Tianzhao.

What truly chilled him was the demise of Lord Nanzhao years ago, a master of comparable power who met a gruesome end at the hands of the Sealed Paragon.

Today, he beheld Wang Lin and witnessed him halt the eternal vortex of the Cultivation Alliance headquarters with a mere finger, tearing it asunder.

The sight sent shivers down his spine, but he dared not betray any sign of fear. If he revealed even a hint of trepidation, the thousands of cultivators around him, already shaken by Wang Lin’s presence, would crumble.

“He relied on the spirit of a sealing artifact in the past! His true cultivation could never have slain Nanzhao!” Tianzhao declared, his voice ringing with forced conviction. “Even if he can halt and rend the vortex, it only proves his knowledge of formations! I refuse to believe he can harm me without that celestial axe!”

Recalling the treasures hidden within the Seven-Colored Realm, Tianzhao’s resolve hardened. With a stride, he unleashed the third Incense Black Dragon, its roar echoing as it charged toward Wang Lin.

The surrounding cultivators of the Outer Realm were gripped by terror. Wang Lin’s sudden arrival had plunged them into a state of fear, leaving them incapable of mounting any resistance.

The memories of Wang Lin were deeply etched into their minds—an insurmountable foe, a madness that shook their souls, a terrifying valor and glory!

Before the first great battle, the Ancient Star’s Assassination List had placed Wang Lin at the very top. Most scoffed at the notion, but after that fateful day, no one dared to question it.

Wang Lin was a thorn in the side, a festering wound that caused constant agony to these cultivators of the Ancient Star.

The three Incense Black Dragons, roaring like thunder, converged upon Wang Lin. Their approach brought a tempestuous wind that whipped his long hair and billowed his white robes.

The very fabric of space around Wang Lin seemed to buckle under the force of the gale, cracking and splintering with a deafening cacophony.

Behind Wang Lin, Yan Leizi’s pupils contracted in terror. He felt the power within the dragons’ wind, a force capable of shattering the stars. A mere touch would rip his flesh and dissolve his spirit. Even Master Lu, he believed, would be forced to retreat before this storm, lest he be gravely wounded.

Yet, it was not the storm itself that terrified Yan Leizi, but the unwavering figure before him. Wang Lin stood impassive, unperturbed by the raging winds. His hair and robes danced as if in a gentle breeze, leaving his face untouched.

To him, this destructive gale was nothing more than a zephyr.

“Three Incense Black Dragons…” Wang Lin murmured, his eyes gleaming with cold light as he beheld the snarling beasts. Constrained by the forces within him, he could only wield two-tenths of his power. Against a nascent Void cultivator, this was enough, but against even a lesser spirit Void master, two-tenths was insufficient.

However, his purpose was clear: to save Qingshui and claim the Dao Fruit. Thus, his resolve was made.

“I shall disregard the opposing forces, even if it shortens the time of suppression. I must give my all, just this once!” Wang Lin decided. As the dragons closed in, he unleashed no spells, but a surge of golden light erupted from his eyes!

The light flooded the heavens, and Wang Lin’s figure became indistinct, yet a terrifying aura, capable of shaking the very foundation of the cosmos, emanated from his body.

The aura resonated through all creation, and the golden light enveloped all.

Three agonizing shrieks echoed from the approaching Black Dragons. The golden light washed over them, causing their bodies to convulse violently. They dared not approach, halting their charge and attempting to flee.

But within the golden radiance, they could only retreat a few feet before trembling in abject terror! Their eyes, filled with abject terror, became minute in comparision as their fear became absolute.

They recognized the light!

This light was a permanent stain in their memories!

Though captured as younglings by Grand Astrologer Tianzhao and molded into his Incense Soulbeasts, the ancestral memory of the light could not be extinguished.

They remembered a time long ago when anyone who possessed this light was a peak overlord of their world. Even their parents trembled before it.

If the entire Black Dragon clan dared to defy it, they would be annihilated!

Moreover, this golden light felt even purer than that of the ancestors they recalled. It was the most authentic of Celestial Power!

Seized by quaking trepidation, one of the dragons could no longer endure. With a heartrending wail, a torrent of black blood gushed from its scales.

The remaining two dragons echoed the same shriek as their bodies discharged a river of blood. Quaking with terror, they coiled around each other and bowed their heads in worship toward the golden figure of Wang Lin.
A golden aura, vast and terrifying, washed over the countless cultivators gathered around. Those touched by the light trembled violently, their eyes wide with a fear and awe beyond imagining. It was as if the very presence of the Sealed King, Wang Lin, had transformed, radiating a power that struck at the very core of their souls. They felt like mortals in the presence of an immortal celestial!

An unseen majesty poured forth from the golden light, an overwhelming torrent that shattered the composure of the assembled thousands. One cultivator, unable to withstand the pressure, coughed up blood, his knees buckling. It was as though an irresistible force compelled him to kneel, a force so potent that resistance meant utter spiritual collapse.

With a guttural cry amidst the spray of blood, the cultivator fell to his knees.

And with him, like a wave crashing upon the shore, the assembled horde of cultivators from beyond the border followed suit, their faces etched with horror and disbelief. A mass prostration, a sea of bodies kneeling before Wang Lin. Not a single soul remained standing within the ranks of the assembled thousands!

A bloodline, ancient and impossibly noble, pulsed within Wang Lin, an essence so pure and powerful that all beneath the heavens were compelled to bow before it.

All artifice, all conflict between borders, faded away. In that moment, only the golden figure of Wang Lin, majestic and radiant, remained, a king amongst kings, a god amongst mortals.

Ten thousand kneel, even the Black Dragons bow! Who amongst the heavens commands the cycle of life and death?

Wang Lin, his face serene, strode forward, towards the Celestial Paragon.

Yan Leizi, his lips cracked and dry, licked them nervously, his mind reeling. The sight before him was beyond comprehension, a reality that defied all reason.

The Celestial Paragon, upon seeing the golden aura, was immediately seized by a terror so profound that it escaped his lips as a strangled scream. He stared at the light, his eyes wide with horrified recognition, as if a long-forgotten nightmare had returned. He stumbled backward, his face a mask of stark fear.

In that moment, the war between worlds, personal glory, the decrees of the Elders Council – all were forgotten. His only instinct was flight, fueled by a terror that painted the skies black.

“Impossible! It…it is…this golden light…”

Wang Lin moved with unwavering grace, the aura of a grandmaster clinging to him. He closed the distance in a single step, bringing him within a hundred paces of the frantically retreating Celestial Paragon. He raised his right hand, clenched it into a fist, and struck forth.

The heavens roared! A gust of golden wind expanded outward, coalescing into a gargantuan, golden fist. With a deafening roar, it cleaved through the void, smashing into the Celestial Paragon.

The Paragon vomited blood, his body shuddering violently. He was ripped apart, his flesh disintegrating to reveal a swirling mass of incense offerings, fragments of his shattered soul, attempting to coalesce into a new form.

With a flick of his sleeve, Wang Lin unleashed his right eye. A bolt of pure, golden lightning erupted from within, striking the swirling mass of incense with earth-shattering force.

The incense offerings, the echoes of countless prayers, shrieked in agony as they were consumed by the divine lightning.

“Celestial Lightning! It is Celestial Lightning!” The Celestial Paragon coughed up a mouthful of his vital essence, his eyes reflecting an utter, paralyzing fear. His soul trembled, his scream a raw expression of unimaginable horror. He abandoned all pretense of resistance, for he dared not fight, dared not defend himself. He had glimpsed such golden light before, seen such a being when he had captured the Black Dragons so long ago. He had felt, at that time, the very weight of the heavens collapsing upon him. That being, wreathed in golden light, had merely looked at him, and he had plunged into a coma for a decade!

A sharp pain lanced through Wang Lin’s body, the forces of the world rejecting his presence. He ignored it. Raising his left hand, he pointed a finger towards the fleeing Paragon. His left eye blazed with golden fire, erupting outward in a cataclysmic wave of pure, searing energy. The golden flames washed over the Celestial Paragon, and in the instant they subsided, the phantom image of the Heavenly Furnace flickered into existence, then vanished, leaving nothing but wisps of dissipating smoke.

The Celestial Paragon’s soul was extinguished, devoured in the blink of an eye.

Wang Lin stood motionless. He had not spoken a word, yet his decisive execution of the Celestial Paragon, bathed in that golden light, spoke volumes.

Who amongst the heavens commands the cycle of life and death?