He beheld a rent in the very fabric of reality, a sky fractured and wounded!

The firmament above stretched, a canvas of serene azure, devoid of cloud or wind, as if a tranquil painting hung suspended in the ether. Yet, marring this tranquility, a colossal tear gaped open on the sky’s western flank.

This gaping wound, a chasm thousands of fathoms wide, was a sight to chill the soul.

It resembled a parchment pierced by a brutal force, its edges frayed and fragments hanging like tattered streamers.

Through the rent, he glimpsed a shaft, a monstrous arrow thicker than a thousand fathoms, its exposed portion stretching ten thousand fathoms in length… at least!

This projectile had cleaved through the heavens, yet had not fallen completely, remaining lodged, a jagged splinter in the sky.

Beneath this wounded sky lay a vast, desolate plain. Devoid of mountains, the barren land stretched to the horizon’s edge, seemingly ravaged by some cataclysmic force. Only an eternal, miasmic death clung to the air, a palpable weight upon the land. And upon this desolate earth stood Wang Lin, facing the monstrous arrow that pierced the sky.

Wang Lin stood transfixed. An icy dread emanated from the celestial arrow, piercing his very soul and sending tremors through his being.

A searing pain erupted in his left eye. The ancestral memories of the Dao Ancient, fragmented and shattered, surged forth in a tumultuous torrent. Under this storm of inherited knowledge, blood trickled from Wang Lin’s left eye, staining his cheek and clothes.

“Daoist Li Guang pierced my left eye, that eye which held all my longing and memory of my homeland…” The words whispered in Wang Lin’s mind, growing louder, until they became a roar, a primal scream.

“Give me back my left eye!!” Wang Lin trembled, his eyes filled with torment and confusion. The scenes playing out in his mind could never be erased. He saw Li Guang, hand firm upon the bow, the string drawn back, an arrow nocked and humming with celestial power. With a sonorous twang that shook the heavens, the arrow was loosed.

It soared through the sky, impacting Dao Ancient’s immortal essence, tearing through his very form and ripping out his left eye. The arrow vanished with its prize into the boundless star sea.

After an age of torment, Wang Lin coughed up a mouthful of blood, stumbling backward. He collapsed to the earth, assuming the lotus position and drawing deep breaths. When at last he opened his eyes, he gazed at the arrow in the sky with a complex mix of emotions.

“Here, there is no Dao Ancient’s left eye. There is only this arrow…” Wang Lin realized his previous conjecture had only been half the truth.

In all the heavens, besides the Dao Ancient’s left eye, and the immortal power within the bow that shot it, there was one other thing that could possibly contain that repulsive energy. It was this arrow!

Wang Lin gazed at the dried, black bloodstains upon the arrow’s tip. The Dao Ancient’s aura emanated from this very ichor, blood from the Dao Ancient’s left eye…

And then he noticed something else. The arrow’s tip was not a sharpened point, but a perfect circle! This was a blunt arrow, its tip a ring, a glyph, an ancient seal.

“Precious things must be hidden where none can find them… especially treasures one cannot control. Great care must be taken… for if discovered, such a treasure could bring about the ruin of an entire race…”

“The Rune Clan. They hid it well…” Wang Lin understood.

Images began to coalesce within his mind, linking with his memories, forming a whole.

He saw it now. In the ancient god’s tomb, Dao Ancient Ye Mo, with a wave of his hand, summoned immortal power, transforming into his gigantic Dao Ancient form. As he slaughtered countless foes, Li Guang’s arrow came whistling through the air, tearing out his left eye, and carrying it away, bursting from the ancient tomb in a ripple of energy, streaking into the infinite void.

The arrow was immense, its power capable of piercing even the Dao Ancient’s eye. Nothing in the star sea could withstand its passage. In those days, before the sealing formation, the arrow carved a path through multiple planets, shattering them as it flew, before vanishing into the distance. Yet, somewhere along its journey, perhaps in the realm of the outer gods, or perhaps still within the domain of mortals, the Dao Ancient’s eye was dislodged, lost amongst the stars.

It entered this realm, spent and weary, and cleaved a path through the sky, penetrating a forgotten realm lost within the star sea.

This forgotten realm, this fractured dimension, was the very land upon which Wang Lin now stood.

Perhaps, long ago, this place teemed with beasts and plants, perhaps it even held cultivators. Perhaps life thrived here. But on that day, at that moment, the arrow roared from the heavens, tearing a rent in the sky, passing through and lodging itself, its power spent, half of its mass remaining visible.

As the monstrous arrow plunged into this world, its residual killing intent poured forth. In a single, devastating burst, this power merged with the blood from the Dao Ancient’s eye upon the arrow’s tip. The fusion of immortal power and Dao Ancient essence created an overwhelming repulsive force.

This repulsive force did not dissipate, but rather focused upon the arrow’s tip and was absorbed by the circular rune, transforming into a series of concentric rings that radiated down the arrow’s shaft and toward the earth below.

At first, these rings mirrored the arrow’s size, thousands of fathoms in width, expanding downward, but steadily shrinking as they approached the ground. When they finally touched the earth, they were only a thousand fathoms across.

These rings bored through the earth, creating a tunnel composed of ever-smaller concentric circles. This tunnel descended deep into the planet’s core, where the final ring, only the size of a fist, mirrored those Wang Lin had seen upon the stone gate.

As the concentric rings spread, they transformed into a storm that ravaged the land. Mountains crumbled to dust, rivers evaporated, and dry riverbeds shattered into oblivion.
Here, the very ocean was hurled skyward, only to utterly vanish. The seabed, once a basin, was swept clean as if by a titan’s hand, leaving only a desolate plain in the storm’s wake.

Countless savage beasts perished in this cataclysm, their bodies dissolving into nothingness, their final cries silenced before they could even form.

Vegetation fared no better, consumed by the tempest and reduced to ashes, dancing with the fury of the gale.

And those who once dwelt here, be they solitary ascetics or entire sects, were erased from existence by the storm’s wrath.

The tempestuous winds ravaged this realm, leaving behind a barren wasteland haunted by the faint whispers of death.

This fragment of creation was hidden within the starry expanse, concealed by the arcane essence of the arrow itself. So potent was this force that none could find it, until the advent of the great sealing array, and the ensuing, bloody battles between realms. Yet, as epochs passed, those from beyond the boundary faintly divined the arrow’s approximate location.

Thus came the Rune Clan, perhaps with designs upon the Azure Frost, or perhaps drawn by the allure of the celestial arrow.

After enduring countless trials, the Rune Clan discovered this lost realm, yet found themselves unable to quell its inherent resistance, unable to master its power.

They sealed it away, likely with aid from the Extinction Clan, and left behind a single gateway – the very one through which Wang Lin had entered. This portal was ingeniously placed, utilizing the arrow’s circular form, merging with the final, fist-sized ring to create the gate’s first seal!

They awaited the arrival of the Exalted Sovereign, hoping he would personally claim the arrow…

But amidst their long vigil, calamity befell the Rune Clan. The Sovereign’s daughter was imprisoned within the Demon Spirit Land by Azure Frost, and the Rune Clan was butchered and scattered by the Four Immortal Realms.

Some were enslaved, becoming the Chosen of the Immortals…

Others fled, finding refuge on Vermilion Bird Star. The gate, the key to this forgotten realm, was entrusted to them, buried here, until its true purpose faded into legend – a tale of the Rune Clan’s nineteenth level, a prison for the remnants of their ancestors’ souls.

Perhaps the Sovereign himself had come, risking everything to breach the boundary, not only to slay the Sealing Lord, but to claim the arrow discovered by the Rune Clan…

But the reverberating roar that emanated from within the boundary shattered the Sovereign’s ambition, filling him with terror and flinging him, wounded, back into the void.

Thus, the arrow remained, eternally sealed away by the Rune Clan, its true nature lost even to Cloud Sparrow. Until Wang Lin arrived.

Wang Lin sighed, uncertain if his deductions were true, drawn from the fragments of knowledge he had pieced together. Yet, he suspected the truth was not far from this.

In silence, Wang Lin rose and strode forward, reaching the arrow that pierced the sky, its massive form dwarfing him as a mountain dwarfs a man.

He inhaled deeply, then leaped onto the great shaft, sitting cross-legged. Raising his right hand, he touched the dried blood of the Dao Ancestor upon the arrowhead. Closing his eyes, the ancient god star between his brows spun wildly as he began to absorb.

He sought to claim the blood of the Dao Ancestor’s left eye!

Within that blood lay a deep-seated demonic essence, a power of great use to Wang Lin!

As he absorbed, Wang Lin waved his left hand, and a storage rift opened. The ancient demon statue appeared beside him, his left hand grasping it firmly.