A mark of Causality, born from Wang Lin’s open palm, blossomed into the seed of cosmic genesis. His grasp, the withering fruit of world’s end. The act of closing his hand, the very thread of fate! By this extrinsic force of fate, he forged the Seal of Causality.

Though newly awakened, the Seal pulsed with formidable might, exceeding even Wang Lin’s own expectations.

In all the vast expanse of existence, none understood the nature of cause and effect better than he. The profound philosophies, the seventy years spent adrift in the Dream Dao, the millennia of contemplation, coupled with his serendipitous encounters, culminated on this day. In this very instant, upon his awakening, he achieved Causality, birthing a fourth, earth-shattering divine ability.

This Seal, when unleashed, could cast one into the labyrinthine cycle of karmic reincarnation. Unlike the Dream Dao, which gently altered reality like rain nourishing the earth, it brazenly dictated cause and effect.

This divine ability, it was a true Daoist art!

Wang Lin gazed at his right hand, its opening and closing a symphony of creation and destruction. An aura of learned grandeur, a scholar’s might, emanated from his being, enough to strike fear into the hearts of gods and spirits. A mere glance would send even a third-step Nirvana Shatterer cultivator fleeing in terror.

For Wang Lin, bearing this aura, had grasped the very principles of the heavens and earth. He was one with the cosmos itself!

Raising his right hand, he waved it before him, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. With a flourish, he condensed the primal force of Causality, shaping it into the Seal of Causality.

This Seal was not merely Wang Lin’s self-created fourth divine ability, but also the very emblem of his mastery over the essence of Causality.

The Seal of Causality intertwined with the primal essences of Thunder and Fire, swirling about him in a celestial dance. Rings of raw power emanated outwards, multiplying the aura of a third-step grand cultivator several times over.

With three primal essences perfected, even a Nirvana Shatterer at the peak of their cultivation would fall before Wang Lin’s full power. Primal essences were difficult to attain, but once mastered, their power was astonishing, almost divine!

At the moment these three primal essences materialized, a deep rumbling echoed through the boundless void, as if reverberating from some distant, unseen realm.

In the Kunxu Starfield, outside the Vermilion Bird Star, tens of thousands of cultivators had formed an impenetrable blockade, encircling the planet like a serpent coiling around its prey.

These cultivators, all hailing from beyond the borders of the Realm, bore cruel sigils upon their brows, their expressions radiating ruthlessness, death, and an unsettling glee.

They had encircled the last bastion of resistance remaining in the Kunxu Starfield, led by Nan Yunzi, who stood resolute in his defense of the Vermilion Bird Star.

Nan Yunzi had not wished to remain, but the cultivators of the Kunxu Starfield were weary, battle-worn from decades of relentless conflict. Driven mad with grief and rage, they refused to retreat, to abandon Kunxu for the sanctuary of the Luo Tian.

In their minds, even if they reached Luo Tian, what solace would they find?

When the armies from beyond descended, where else could they flee?

If they were to die, they would die in their homeland. If they were to fight, they would fight to the death in the birthplace of the Sealed Exalted, the Vermilion Bird Star!

The statue of the Sealed Exalted, a figure carved of stone, stood as tall as a mountain, filling the encircled cultivators of Kunxu with a grim determination.

Situ Nan was also present, his fate was intertwined with Qing Shuang’s journey to Luo Tian, but he had steadfastly returned. This was the Vermilion Bird Star, his sworn brother’s homeland. This was where Wang Lin had vanished, where he was presumed to have perished. Situ Nan refused to abandon him in death.

“What does death matter!” Situ Nan bellowed, his long gray hair swirling about him as he charged into the fray, his purple robes billowing in his wake. Under Qing Shuang’s tutelage, coupled with his innate talent, he had forced open the Door of Ascension three decades prior, achieving the third step.

Alongside Situ Nan stood Thirteen and Big Head, among others. Their cultivation was lacking, yet the crucible of war had tempered them into formidable warriors. Though bearing countless wounds, their desire to spill the blood of their enemies would not be quelled.

Also amongst them were Long Panzi and Lu Fuzi.

Since his awakening, Long Panzi had learned much of Wang Lin, understood that he was the Sealed Exalted, and knew that Vermilion Bird Star was his home.

He could have stayed away, yet Long Panzi had come nonetheless. He had not brought his disciple Xuan Zhong, but instead stood alone, wielding his River-Mountain Painting with power akin to a Sky Profound expert. He blanketed the Vermilion Bird Star, shielding it from the invaders’ bombardment.

Lu Fuzi, too, had chosen not to retreat to Luo Tian. Even as the venerable ancestor of Luo Tian, he had witnessed countless deaths in recent decades, and seen far too much. Wang Lin, in particular, had deeply affected him. He remained here, silent and resolute, to fight to the bitter end!

“This old one seeks death in battle…” Lu Fuzi muttered, a wild light gleaming in his eyes.

There was another present, one whom Wang Lin would recognize: the Azure Dragon Sacred Emperor! He had not perished, but had reemerged decades prior with the Four Sacred Sects, becoming a force to be reckoned with in Kunxu.

Now, he led the elders of the Four Sacred Sects, fighting to the last on the Vermilion Bird Star.

During the great war between the Inner and Outer Realms, the Azure Dragon Sacred Emperor and the Four Sacred Sects had seemingly vanished. It was only a few decades prior that they had suddenly reappeared, immediately engaging the invaders in a deadly dance of annihilation.

His cultivation had already been formidable then, and despite not yet reaching the third step, he had reached the pinnacle of the Fifth Heavenly Tribulation.

Amidst the chaos, the cultivators of Kunxu, besieged by tens of thousands of invaders, numbered less than eight thousand. Yet, it was these eight thousand souls who had stubbornly resisted for months on the Vermilion Bird Star!

The heavens roared with the clash of steel and magic. Blood stained the void around the Vermilion Bird Star as the enemy steadily advanced, their encirclement tightening. Among them, were only three third-step cultivators.

One was a man clad in azure robes, his face an impassive mask. His attacks manifested as countless shards of ice. If Wang Lin were present, he would instantly recognize him: he was one of those who opposed Wang Lin in his hour of calamity!
One more stood revealed amidst the fray: Zhou Jin of the Fengtian Wolf Clan. He, who had once been Wang Lin’s thrall, had betrayed his master in the shadows, and now, leading the wolves of Fengtian, sought to drown the realm in a crimson tide. He seemed determined to wash away the stain of his former servitude with blood and fire.

He and the scholar, Master Lu, clashed amidst the stars to the left of Vermillion Bird Star, their battle echoing across the void. Wild energies collided and shattered. From afar, a colossal blood-wolf howled, striving to devour the scholar, but its savage hunger remained unfulfilled.

Nearby stood a man clad in robes of icy blue, his face a mask of cold indifference. His mastery of the frozen essence was profound, and now, he stood in his true form, a being of such power that he could challenge even the celestial heavens. He, a wolf among sheep, descended upon Dragonpanzi and Situ Nan, driving them back with relentless force.

This was the last stand of the Kunxu Starfield. All else had fallen to the invaders, only this one bastion remained: Vermillion Bird Star!

The battle was drawing to its bitter end. Pressed by the might of tens of thousands of extraplanar warriors and their devastating sorceries, the defending thousands of this realm were driven back, their faces etched with despair.

“For the glory of Feng Zun! For the honor of Kunxu!” A warrior roared, his body pierced by a dozen flying swords. With a final, defiant laugh, he detonated his own life force, engulfing two of the invaders in his fiery demise.

“Feng Zun’s glory, Kunxu’s honor!” More voices joined the death chant, a chorus of defiance that rang across the battlefield, a final cry of life itself.

“Feng Zun was slain by our hands! What honor can there be in a dead god?” The icy man sneered. With a wave of his hand, frost surged forth, encasing a thousand fathoms in a prison of ice, forcing Dragonpanzi and Situ Nan to retreat.

The name “Feng Zun” struck Zhou Jin like a physical blow, rekindling the embers of humiliation within him. His eyes flashed, and he attacked with renewed ferocity.

The invading hordes surged forward, their bestial roars drowning out all other sound, their relentless advance crushing all resistance.

Suddenly, a sound like the echoing of millennia ripped through the skies above the battlefield. It came from the depths of space, a distant rumble at first, but quickly growing until it resonated within the very souls of all present.

The sound carried an ancient, world-weary weight, and with it, an aura of power that made even the most hardened warriors tremble.

A gate of impossible size, vast enough to encompass whole constellations, materialized in the heavens. Its form shimmered and wavered, a portal to realms unknown. Beside it even the most powerful cultivators appeared as insignificant as ants!

“The Gate of Emptiness!”

“…It is the Empty Gate!”

Situ Nan, retreating desperately, gasped in horror. “Could it be that one of these invaders has achieved perfection of their essence in this moment?”

Dragonpanzi’s eyes narrowed in dread, his face etched with worry.

Master Lu stumbled back, his face stricken. “Do the invaders truly ascend to the Third Step with such ease that one could achieve perfection upon the field of battle?”

Even Zhou Jin was shaken to his core. He stared at the Empty Gate, a sense of chilling familiarity washing over him, threatening to shatter his sanity.

“That…that aura…” He, as Wang Lin’s former thrall, bearing the imprint of his master’s power, was far more sensitive to this aura than any other on the battlefield.

The blue-robed youth, the master of ice, narrowed his eyes, a cold light glinting within them.

“I will see which of these worms has dared to ascend,” he hissed, “and ensure their swift and utter annihilation the moment they step into the Third Step!”

While these powerful figures grappled with the implications of the Gate’s arrival, the ordinary warriors, invaders and defenders alike, could only stare in dumbstruck awe.

They could scarcely comprehend that someone, in this moment of bloody chaos, had managed to call forth the Empty Gate. Each appearance of this cosmic portal, whether in this realm or another, was a momentous event. It signified the potential birth of a new Third Step powerhouse.