Behind Wang Lin, the ancient phantom of a skull materialized, its immensity beyond measure. It emerged not as a haze, but with stark reality, unleashing a deafening roar that echoed through the heavens.

The roar vibrated the very fabric of existence, endowing Wang Lin with an aura of supreme divine might. With a single stride, he reached the pinnacle within the tower, and in that instant, unleashed a devastating punch.

As his fist flew, the phantom skull behind him roared with even greater ferocity, its essence contorting and surging forward to meld with Wang Lin’s strike, forming a heaven-shattering Dao Ancient Fist.

The deafening cacophony intensified, and in a fleeting moment, Wang Lin’s fist collided with the tower’s peak, the entire structure shuddering violently with a thunderous boom.

Wang Lin retreated a step, his eyes flashing with chilling light. With a guttural roar, he surged forward once more, unleashing a second earth-shaking blow.

Cracks, like spiderwebs of destruction, erupted across the trembling tower’s surface.

“A mere tower dares to imprison Wang Lin!” he bellowed. Gripping his fist, he delivered a third cataclysmic strike. This final blow shattered the remaining integrity of the tower, the cracks widening and spreading until they engulfed the entire structure. With a final, resounding crash, the tower disintegrated under the might of Wang Lin’s three punches.

Countless fragments swirled outward in a chaotic dance, visible even from within the swirling mists beyond. The crumbling tower was swept by storm winds in shrieking pandemonium.

Amidst the collapsing remains, bathed in golden light that pierced the chaos, Wang Lin emerged, his white hair cascading behind him, his hands clasped serenely behind his back.

The celestial tribulation, though formidable, held no sway over Wang Lin. In his eyes, it was a trial he could not fail.

As Wang Lin emerged from the shattered tower, a muffled roar echoed from the vast rift above. A flash of gold heralded the descent of the third celestial treasure.

It was an annular golden halo, radiating a light that pierced the heavens. A wave of pressure, far exceeding that of the previous treasures, washed over the million-mile mist, and even beyond.

Situ Nan and the other cultivators outside the mist felt their minds reel under the oppressive weight, an illusion of facing the very will of the heavens.

Nan Yunzi’s face paled as he retreated hundreds of paces, his horror mirrored by the thousands of other cultivators, including Situ Nan, who scrambled backward.

Those too slow to escape were struck by the oppressive force, coughing up blood, their faces ashen, their minds wounded by the divine pressure.

“What… what is this treasure!” Nan Yunzi stammered, his eyes wide with disbelief, realizing the overwhelming pressure did not emanate from a cultivator, but from the artifact itself.

Only Zhan Laogui, standing aloof in the distance, remained unaffected by the pressure. His silver hair danced wildly, his eyes fixed on the golden halo emerging from the rift, his gaze shifting from Wang Lin for the first time.

“The Cursed Shackle! The third treasure used to create the Heavenly Tribulation within my memory… Even in the Immortal Astral Continent, this artifact has a powerful reputation, But alas, it became a part of the Tribulation. My form is in this state… ” Zhan Laogui shook his head, sighing. Then, his eyes gleamed with sudden interest.

“If Wang Lin could subdue this treasure, his chances of becoming the third will be greatly increased! But… subduing it will not be easy…”

Wang Lin, too, felt the overwhelming pressure of the golden halo. His eyes flashed with newfound interest.

As Wang Lin’s gaze met the halo, it pulsed, the pressure intensifying explosively, causing the million-mile mist to churn and writhe. The thousands of cultivators outside staggered back in renewed alarm.

With a surge of power, the golden halo shot toward Wang Lin at incredible speed.

In its flight, it expanded grotesquely, becoming hundreds of feet in diameter, enveloping Wang Lin in an instant. It then descended upon him and violently contracted.

A curious light shone in Wang Lin’s eyes as he stood motionless, allowing the halo to shrink around him. In a blink, the golden ring contracted from a hundred feet to a mere few inches, embedding itself into the skin of Wang Lin’s forehead, forming a circular seal!

The seal dug into Wang Lin’s skin, creating a visible depression. A formless wave pulsed through Wang Lin’s body, piercing his flesh and manifesting within his very soul in the same circular design.

This was the Cursed Shackle!

Wang Lin closed his eyes, his expression serene, as if the seal on his brow was nonexistent, but behind his closed lids, calculations swirled.

He coveted this treasure. He was using his mental strength to analyze its structure, seeking weaknesses and methods to claim it as his own. The fastest way to achieve this was to experience its effects firsthand.

To stand unmoving during a Heavenly Tribulation, allowing a tribulation artifact to bind him, while simultaneously studying it to steal it for his own–such audacity was unique to Wang Lin.

He was a man of boundless courage, and his countless brushes with death had granted him unparalleled insight. With his eyes closed, he disregarded the illusory nature of the world around him, focusing his mental energies to an astonishing degree.

He channeled the insights of the Ancient God, the cultivator, the Five Elements, and the accumulated knowledge of his two millennia as a cultivator, combined with the wisdom of a Confucian scholar, to create an unparalleled force of calculation.

In his mental realm, his body vanished, and all that remained was the golden halo. The halo pulsed with golden light, composed of billions of runes. As they spun with impossible speed, they rendered the halo tangible.

Each rune contained a unique essence. Together, these billions of essences merged harmoniously, creating a force that could seal one’s flesh, one’s soul, and ultimately, one’s life.

In structure, it was similar to the sealing power of the Sealed Realm, yet distinct in its nature.

What may have taken an eternity for others, transpired for Wang Lin in the blink of an eye.

“This treasure is incomplete…” he thought. “It was somehow infused into this Heavenly Tribulation, using the tribulation to complete itself. It’s close to completion… Perhaps it will finish in ten thousand years.”

A smile flickered across Wang Lin’s face. “Interesting. This tribulation… I am beginning to see.”

At that moment, a roar echoing from the vast rift above grew louder, as if it were right next to him. A colossal figure emerged from the rift, a thousand feet tall, radiating the aura of an ancient god.

As it stepped out, its true form was revealed: an Ancient God! Eight Ancient God stars whirled within its brow, but its eyes were empty.

Even the Ancient God’s stars were different from Wang Lin’s, their light diminished as if there was a seal suppressing them.

With a deafening roar, the Ancient God hurtled toward the closed-eyed Wang Lin.

Then more roars rang out from the rift, and three more Ancient Gods, each a thousand feet tall, stepped forth. They were coated in scars, and they rushed towards Wang Lin with savage intent.

Next, a torrent of demonic Qi surged outward, eclipsing the Ancient Gods in their wake. Four Ancient Demons with eight Demon stars appeared within the Qi, their cruel smiles mirroring the Ancient Gods’ lust for blood.

Finally, a screeching shriek broke through the demonic Qi, bringing with it a swarm of wicked-smelling Yoki. Four eight-starred Ancient Daemons poured out of the Yoki, their grotesque forms twisted like smoke, their sharp claws extended, their blue skin glinting, a disturbing sight to behold.

Four Ancient Gods, four Ancient Demons, and four Ancient Daemons – twelve ancient cultivators were surrounding Wang Lin in an instant, rushing towards him with deafening roars.

Closer and closer they came.

Wang Lin remained motionless, his eyes closed, continuing his analysis of the golden halo. He continued to pierce and break down each one of the tens of billions of runes.

In this short amount of time, Wang Lin took control of 30% of the runes, breaking the halo’s light.

He seemed oblivious to the killing intent that surrounded him, emanating from the twelve ancient cultivators. First on the scene was the initial Ancient God.