Lord Paragon, with timing as precise as a master craftsman’s hand, materialized within the starfield the instant Wang Lin loosed his second arrow. In his heart, Paragon held Wang Lin as a mark for utter annihilation.

In terms of cultivation, Paragon had ascended into the profound reaches of the Xuan Tribulation realm, rivaled by but a handful. As for his station, though merely a servant in the lands of the Immortals and Ascendants, he was perceived by outsiders as a noble underling, warranting respect.

Here, within the Tearful Realm, he stood as the foremost among the Five Lords of the Outer Realm, his position unwavering for millennia, inspiring awe in countless cultivators and regarded as a godlike figure by numerous clans.

He commanded the Paragon Assembly, his words capable of unleashing cosmic storms upon the Outer Realm. Even celestial consorts dared not challenge him, such was the might of Paragon.

Even within the Inner Realm, his name echoed with dread. Those who knew of him harbored fear, for his cunning was etched in annals of past deeds, elusive and ever-present.

From the forceful subjugation of the Sealed Sovereign in days of yore, to the summoning of the Rune Clan and the instigation of the Azure Frost, his hand was present in the destruction of the Four Great Immortal Realms. Even within the Inner Realm, he planted seeds of discord: Zhan Xingye, the eldest disciple of the Sky-Piercing Sect of the Cloud Sea, and Water Daoist; all were but puppets dancing to Paragon’s tune.

He orchestrated countless battles between the Inner and Outer Realms, becoming the architect of a ceaseless war. The lives extinguished at his command could pave a road across the stars.

Before his fateful encounter with Wang Lin, Paragon had faced but two instances of ignominy. The first came at the hands of the Seven-Colored Daoist, forcing him to accept the role of disciple. Yet, to be deemed worthy of such coercion spoke volumes of Paragon’s innate talent.

The second defeat occurred on the Ancient Starry Sky, when the War Devil dared to intrude, plundering the incense offerings. In that clash, Paragon was humbled, forever etching the War Devil’s name into his memory.

The third was a defeat was in the Inner Realm, whilst Paragon searched for the Li Guang Arrow, he was seriously injured by a roar and fled in panic.

Apart from these instances, Paragon had always known victory, his plans unfolding with flawless precision. That is, until he met Wang Lin, a bane to Paragon, driving him to the brink of madness.

His first attempt to ensnare Wang Lin was when Wang Lin first entered the Ancient Starry Sky, Paragon sought to seize Wang Lin’s soul. However, this scheme was thwarted by the Azure Dream Daoist, and the opening of the Ancient Tomb caused Wang Lin’s aura to disappear.

This was dismissed as a mere accident, quickly forgotten by Paragon.

But soon came a second encounter, at the entrance to the Ancient Tomb. He watched helplessly as Wang Lin sealed a significant portion of the Outer Realm’s power. As Paragon moved to intervene, Wang Lin unleashed a deafening roar, drawing upon the power of the Ancient Tomb’s deepest recesses.

The roar, like a furious tempest, collided with Paragon, forcing him to retreat, spluttering blood.

This, too, was excused as happenstance, its cause understood by Paragon, however grudgingly.

But the threads of fate between them were yet unsevered. A third encounter occurred on the Cloud Sea battlefield, where Paragon’s disciple presented the Li Guang Bow to the Inner Realm, inadvertently drawing out the War Devil. As the two fought, the bow fell into Wang Lin’s hands. If this was the extent of it, Paragon might have tolerated it, but Wang Lin subsequently acquired the Li Guang Arrow, casting a shadow of unease upon Paragon’s mind.

Even then, Paragon did not consider Wang Lin a threat. He still believed the previous incidents to be mere coincidences. Even with the bow and arrow, Wang Lin’s lineage would prevent him from unleashing their full potential. Slaying Wang Lin, he believed, would be as simple as turning his hand.

The fourth confrontation occurred when Paragon and several powerful Outer Realm beings created the Illusory Realm, luring Wang Lin into a deadly trap.

This time, his machinations were flawless, leaving no room for error. Wang Lin was forced to unleash his full power, ultimately releasing the Immortal and Ascendant souls sealed by the Dao Ancient. Yet, even this could not alter his impending demise. Paragon was certain that this time, his calculations would brook no deviation.

But fate, ever capricious, had yet another surprise in store. The arrival of the Madman sent shockwaves through Paragon’s mind, shattering his meticulously crafted plan.

Not only did he fail to slay Wang Lin, but he inadvertently fueled his opponent’s growth. This left Paragon seething with an unprecedented level of frustration.

Yet, he still refused to acknowledge Wang Lin’s strength, dismissing him as merely fortunate, until the fifth encounter. When Wang Lin unleashed the full power of the Li Guang arrow, Paragon was obliterated. It was only after being reborn through the Three-Lives Technique that Paragon finally realized the truth.

Once, twice, thrice, four times—such could be accidents. But a fifth? This was no accident. Wang Lin was, undeniably, his nemesis!

Wang Lin was now a thorn lodged deep within Paragon’s heart, each memory bringing forth a surge of suppressed rage, threatening to erupt into utter madness.

“This time, there will be no mistake!” Paragon appeared ten thousand *zhang* away from Wang Lin, his gaze fixed upon his quarry. With a sweep of his sleeve, he transformed into a streak of light, hurtling toward Wang Lin.

His Xuan Tribulation cultivation erupted, sending tremors through the cosmos. An invisible vortex swept outwards, and Wang Lin, though his expression remained serene, found himself forced to retreat.

Paragon’s power was far beyond his own. As his cultivation swelled, the starry sky became a sea of churning rage, with Wang Lin as a lone leaf swept away by the relentless tide.

“I am certain that he has but two arrows within him! There will be no more deviations! He has already released two, and I sense no more Immortal blood within him. He cannot draw the Li Guang bow again!” Paragon’s eyes blazed with murderous intent. His desire to slay Wang Lin was all-consuming, a prerequisite for his very existence.

Indeed, it was no wonder that Paragon was so consumed. Wang Lin was like an immortal, defying death at every turn, driving Paragon to near despair. In his subconscious, he had almost come to believe that Wang Lin was invincible, that at the final moment, fate would conspire to turn the tables.
A twist of fate, as though an unseen force manipulated the threads of destiny. Such a notion bordered on the mystical, yet the Esteemed Sovereign found himself almost succumbing to its allure.

“This time, I shall suffer no more defiance of fate! Curse him, even should he summon his master, I shall slay Wang Lin! He possesses no third draw of the arcane bow; my calculations cannot be false!” The Sovereign’s certainty stemmed from his Celestial lineage, for he was but a thrall to the madman. He, himself, within the Illusionary Verdant Array, had forced the very immortal blood from Wang Lin’s veins. He knew the power contained within, the limits to its invocation.

This knowledge was his alone, a secret beyond the grasp of others.

The Sovereign’s eyes burned crimson with murderous intent. He strode forth, and the heavens roared, the stars trembled, and a vortex of dark energies surged outwards to engulf all in his path.

“No mistake can be made. He must die! If I fail to kill him, I will forfeit my name and become his slave!” The Sovereign’s desire for Wang Lin’s demise had reached a fever pitch, bordering on madness. His very soul throbbed with this unholy craving, and in a blur, he stood before the retreating Wang Lin, his hand raised to unleash a devastating blow.

“Die, cur!” Without a word, the Sovereign unleashed his most potent sorcery. Though he sought to reassure himself, a sliver of doubt lingered. He feared that any exchange with Wang Lin might invite unforeseen calamities.

Furthermore, this strike served as a subconscious test. The Sovereign had witnessed Wang Lin’s uncanny ability to defy expectations more than once.

A colossal palm manifested between the Sovereign and the fleeing Wang Lin. It swelled until it reached a hundred fathoms, yet maintained a startling solidity, appearing as a veritable hand of stone.

With a deafening roar, it hurtled toward Wang Lin.

Wang Lin’s face paled, but his eyes remained calm, devoid of fear. The Sovereign’s arrival held no surprise; he would have suspected some trickery had his foe not appeared.

As the colossal hand descended, Wang Lin raised his own, his brow shimmering with the constellation of a Gu God, his left and right eyes blazing with the stars of a Demon Lord. Ancient power coalesced around him, focusing upon the forefinger of his right hand.

Inspired by his immortal body, Wang Lin unveiled his innate power, the Unyielding Finger of the Ancient God!

The instant his finger launched, a brilliant emerald aura erupted around him, manifesting as a shield of light that danced and swirled. Behind him, the shield cast a grand silhouette, and from beyond it, a kaleidoscope of light shimmered. A five-colored butterfly emerged, fluttering its wings and perching upon Wang Lin’s shoulder, showering the air with iridescent pollen, a sight of ethereal beauty.

“Not yet…” Wang Lin’s eyes glinted with an alien light. All of this transpired in an instant, and then the hundred-fathom hand collided with his outstretched finger.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

At the point of contact, Wang Lin felt his very being teeter on the brink of collapse, and he spat forth a mouthful of blood. His body staggered backward, the massive hand relentlessly bearing down. His forefinger shattered, only to reform in the blink of an eye. In the span of a few breaths, Wang Lin’s finger was destroyed and rebuilt thousands of times!

The disparity in power was a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. Though his finger held, his body began to fail. Wounds tore open across his flesh, and pain lanced through him, threatening to tear him asunder.

The Shield of Light flickered, warped, and shattered.

The Emerald Shield blazed with fading glory, then snapped inward, retreating back into Wang Lin’s body.

The five-colored butterfly shuddered, transformed into motes of light, and vanished.