A lone reverence swept across the ebon firmament like a wind-borne sigh, stirring within the four celestial realms. A dormant spirit, slumbering deep within the void, began to rouse, awakened by the mournful breath of passing ages.

With this solemn bow, echoes of forgotten battles resurfaced: glories won, heroic deeds, and desperate struggles for survival. The souls of countless warriors, lost to the unending wars of the Inner Realm, stirred at the resonance of Wang Lin’s voice.

A wave of sorrow, heavy as a shroud, cascaded through the four star domains, originating from the scattered remnants of these fallen heroes. Though their mortal coils had long crumbled to dust, fragments of their spirits lingered, watching over the Inner Realm, trapped in a timeless vigil, denied the solace of reincarnation.

Refusing to surrender to the celestial cycle, unable to find passage through the heavenly gate, they were condemned to exist as wisps of sorrow and regret, clinging to the cosmos, awaiting the day when the outer invaders breathed their last. They yearned for the shattering of the Seal, the final, definitive end to a war that seemed to stretch into eternity.

Within these four realms, Wang Lin remained bowed in respect, his head lowered, concealing the grief that mirrored the spirits he invoked.

Then, spectral figures began to coalesce from the starry expanse: phantasms of warriors long past, souls of a forgotten age, before the Barrier sealed the heavens.

They were the first children of the ancient Immortal Domain, schooled in the arcane arts of cultivation. Born under the nascent light of the Celestial Dao, they were the first of their kind.

Clad in the raiments of untamed tribesmen, their souls radiated an innate connection to the world. They recalled the sudden appearance of the Barrier, the confusion and terror that seized them as they sought to break free, only to be consumed by its insurmountable power.

Now, after eons of silent waiting, their souls, summoned by Wang Lin, manifested in the four realms, their gaze fixed on the figure standing within the Sea of Clouds.

Following them came the ancient cultivators of the Four Immortal Realms, the celestial beings who dwelled there before their devastation.

Though not true Immortals of the Immortal Astral Continent, Wang Lin considered them to be so. They had perished in droves, seeking to pierce the Barrier, and fallen in countless battles against invaders. Wang Lin felt their sorrow, their harrowing presence, even as he kept his head bowed.

He vividly recalled the memory gleaned from the statue of the Flash Thunder Clan in the Realm of Seven Colors, the image of immortals desperately throwing themselves against the Barrier, only to be obliterated.

Now, for the first time since their demise, these immortal spirits were drawn forth from the void.

After the Immortals came those of the modern age of cultivation, the broken souls of warriors who had fallen in the Hundred Years War. Many were strangers, though some were familiar, yet all were united in their dedication to the Inner Realm. Their deaths would be remembered.

Throughout the ages, countless cultivators and souls had perished in the endless conflict between the Inner and Outer Realms, yet none had been honored with a proper rite. Not in the ancient eras, nor in the time of the Immortal Realms. Only now, only Wang Lin, was the first to offer such a tribute.

“Will you become the undying spirits of this formation?” Wang Lin asked, his head raised, his voice echoing throughout the four realms. He gazed upon the swirling mass of souls, each bearing the weight of resentment and sorrow.

As the words left his lips, the spirits, infinite in number, writhed and contorted, transforming into intangible wisps of energy that surged towards Wang Lin.

The first to reach him was a warrior from the ancient age, his form blurred, his soul-eyes dim. He paused a hundred paces before Wang Lin, studying him intently, before offering a respectful bow.

Then, with a shimmering of his essence, he plunged into the wheel of rebirth formed by the three origins, willingly becoming a spirit of the formation.

Following him came the souls of those who perished in the ancient wars. One by one they approached, each offering a bow before Wang Lin, then merging without hesitation into the wheel, becoming undying spirits of the formation.

Though their essences still bore the scars of past grievances, they offered themselves freely, without reservation, to the formation. For the Inner Realm they had died, and now, even in death, they gave all that remained.

Living, they were heroes; dying, they became heroic spirits.

One, two, ten thousand, a hundred thousand, countless ancient souls who had fallen in the defense of the Inner Realm materialized, each approaching Wang Lin. Some were solitary figures, others came in groups of hundreds or thousands, but each offered a bow before surging into the formation.

After them came the ancient cultivators, the immortals of the Four Immortal Realms, those who hailed from the realms of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. Though they came from different worlds, they shared the same blood of the Inner Realm in life, and in death, their souls remained bound to it.

Born of the Inner Realm, they died for it.

They appeared before Wang Lin in succession, offering the same respectful bow as their predecessors before turning and merging into the formation.

These scenes evoked powerful waves of emotion, and Wang Lin, in the Sea of Clouds, remained bowed, unmoving.

After the immortal spirits came his comrades, those who perished in the Hundred Years War. Familiar and unfamiliar souls alike bowed before Wang Lin and plunged into the wheel of rebirth.

Among them were some who had been enemies, others who had shared past connections, but now, their souls radiated the same protective aura, willing to sacrifice their last vestige of power to safeguard the Inner Realm.

An air of somber grandeur pervaded the cosmos. From the Outer Realms, invaders arrived in droves, witnessing the spectacle. Their expressions shifted to horror, their hearts shaken by the sight.

Within the Inner Realm, on the nineteen surviving planets of Luo Tian, those who remained stood from their meditations and bowed towards the heavens.

Nan Yunzi, Situ Nan, Hong Shanzi, Ze Shuang, and countless others, rose in unison, their faces etched with sorrow and respect, and bowed to the cosmos.

Not only they, but those remaining in other domains, those few who remained, rose and bowed, their minds flooded with images of past battles.

And in the Sea of Clouds, Wood Ice-Eyebrow and her two companions, bowed towards the passing procession of souls.

In Kunxu Star Territory, Zhan Laogui stood in a desolate corner of the cosmos, watching the passing souls with a rare melancholy.

“Lu Cai… Li Dong, Chang Yi… are you here too…? You died long ago, only I remain… Back then, we wondered why the Inner and Outer Realms fought… Now, fate has played its cruel hand, and I have become an instigator of this war which I once hated… We swore to change this, to destroy the Barrier, to lead the Inner Realm out of this cage…”

“But you do not know what I learned in the Immortal Destiny… I know a shocking secret…” Zhan Laogui felt pain, even though he was one of the most powerful cultivators in the cave, he was still born in it.

He was not unfeeling, and this convocation of spirits pierced his heart. After a while, he bowed in respect, but as he did, his face twisted in pain. A force exploded within him, to keep him from bowing.

“I will help you, but you cannot stop me from showing respect for those that I have wronged” Zhan Laogui said through gritted teeth and forced his bow to the spirits.

Meanwhile, within the Star Territory Zhao He, in a meteorite, Tian Yunzi opened his eyes.

He calmly noticed the souls and was silent. Then, he walked out onto the meteorite and gazed at the departure of the endless heroic spirits.

“I should be one of the first to remember… But in any case, I was once a cultivator of the Inner Realm… You deserve a bow” Tian Yunzi sighed, his sleeves billowing, and bowed towards the stars.

Also in Star Territory Zhao He, was a hidden youth from the cracks of the Ancient Immortal Domain.

He sat with a blank stare, impossible to see clearly.

He opened his eyes with disdain.

“Why revere these souls? They are trapped birds, I can’t find Master Ma’s location, so I won’t. It is almost time for my master to awaken, this grotto of the Seven Daos Sect is becoming more and more interesting…”