## The Eleventh Scroll: Ancient Enigmas – Chapter 1693: The Arrival of the Seven Hues

Beneath them, the Lion-Beast shuddered violently. Its eyes widened with primal terror, and it ground to a halt amidst the inky void.

Behind the fleeing pair, within the tapestry of stars, a radiant spectrum of seven colors flickered like starlight. From afar, it appeared as though the very fabric of space was rent asunder, forcefully allowing this prismatic tide to surge forth.

Wang Lin’s pupils contracted, and without a moment’s hesitation, he lunged forward. His form blurred, covering vast distances in an instant. Hot on his heels, Fan Shanlu mirrored his haste, her lithe frame flitting like a painted butterfly.

As she fled, her jade hand rose, striking the Lion-Beast with an invisible force. The creature roared in agony, turning its maddened gaze toward the encroaching seven hues and charging headlong into their embrace.

“Blood Sacrifice!” Fan Shanlu whispered, her eyes glinting with grim determination.

The instant the words left her lips, the Lion-Beast was engulfed in crimson light. With a thunderous roar, its body detonated in a gruesome explosion, scattering a rain of blood and viscera that coalesced into a swirling, scarlet mist. As the macabre cloud expanded, piercing shrieks echoed from the surrounding void, growing ever closer.

From all directions, a chorus of monstrous roars heralded the approach of ferocious beasts, drawn to the scent of blood and the promise of carnage.

Wang Lin poured every ounce of his strength into his escape, transforming into a fleeting comet of light. At times, his form seemed to merge with the star-strewn canvas, granting him bursts of impossible speed.

“This way!” Fan Shanlu, possessing a greater cultivation than Wang Lin, albeit hampered by lingering wounds, overtook him with surprising swiftness.

Rather than maintaining their previous trajectory, she veered sharply to the side, charting a course towards an unforeseen destination. Wang Lin followed without question, his eyes narrowed in observation.

Suddenly, a chilling snort reverberated through the void behind them. The sound lacked the ear-splitting thunder of a tempest, yet it pulsed with a suffocating pressure and a shocking wave of force.

The blood mist had attracted a hundred ravenous beasts, but the moment the chilling snort echoed, each creature emitted a pitiful wail. Invisible forces battered their bodies, sending them tumbling backwards.

Amidst the cacophony of destruction, the flesh and bone of the beasts disintegrated with explosive force.

A scattering of blood and gore whizzed past Wang Lin’s face, deepening his scowl.

From the remnants of the shattered beasts, the seven-hued light surged, revealing a figure. The Seven-Hued Daoist, his face impassive, walked towards them, hands clasped behind his back.

“Wang Lin, return the Li Guang Bow and Arrows to me.” His words, though spoken slowly, echoed within Wang Lin’s mind with earth-shattering force, causing him to stumble and cough up a mouthful of blood.

Fan Shanlu, her face ashen, seized Wang Lin’s arm and dragged him onward.

“I remember you, esteemed First Consort. Why do you flee from your beloved?” The Seven-Hued Daoist’s gaze settled upon Fan Shanlu. With a flick of his sleeve, nine crimson firebirds materialized before him.

These were not the legendary Vermillion Birds, but the searing heat emanating from them surpassed even the sacred avian’s flames. And within each one, lingered the essence of a Cultivation Star.

They were not firebirds, but nine blazing suns, cultivation stars refined into fiery avian forms by the Seven-Hued Daoist!

With a shriek, the nine firebirds transformed into streaks of blazing light, hurtling towards Wang Lin and Fan Shanlu.

“You must delay them!” Facing imminent danger, Wang Lin cast aside all pretense of concealment. With a furious roar, he flung his arm outward. Fan Shanlu, without hesitation, used his force to catapult herself backwards. She formed a rapid series of hand seals, slamming her hands together at her heart. As she coughed up a mouthful of blood, a mournful cry escaped her lips.

“Great Soul Dao, Guide the Nether Soul, Sacrifice my spirit to cleave a world!” Fan Shanlu raised her right hand, grasping at the blood she had expelled. The crimson droplets coalesced into a shimmering, scarlet blade.

She raised the blade and unleashed a savage strike upon the onrushing firebirds. The blade shattered into nine fragments, each hurtling towards a firebird, a desperate attempt to impede their advance.

While the firebirds were slowed, Wang Lin reached into the void with his left hand. Instantly, the Li Guang Bow appeared. With a mighty roar, veins pulsing on his forehead and his eyes burning with golden light, he drew back the bowstring.

The Venerable Master’s calculations were sound – Wang Lin should have only two shots remaining. But the Venerable Master had failed to account for the drop of Immortal blood within Wang Lin’s possession.

This single drop, acquired from the madman by Xu Liguo and Liu Jinbiao, held just enough Immortal power to upset the Venerable Master’s plan.

With a reverberating hum, the Li Guang Bow unleashed its power. An arrow formed, and as soon as it took shape, Wang Lin released the bowstring. The weapon recoiled with a resounding thrum, propelling the arrow forward.

At that moment, the arrow’s piercing shriek drowned out all other sounds in the universe. It grazed Fan Shanlu’s ear, tearing through her hair and severing a few strands.

The arrow passed by her side and collided with the nine firebirds.

A cataclysmic shockwave erupted. Fan Shanlu, buffeted by the explosion, coughed up blood. Wang Lin seized her arm, and together they turned and fled, heedless of the arrow’s impact.

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“Four million Li ahead lies my hidden grotto, protected by restrictive formations that can provide some resistance!” Fan Shanlu cried. Wang Lin, wordless, gripped her arm tighter and blurred into motion.

Appearing two million Li away, he sped forward once more, his face ashen.
“Is he truly the Seven-Colored Immortal Sovereign?” Wang Lin surged forward, a rainbow streak blazing behind him. He dared not pause, yet sent a tendril of his divine sense into Fan Shanlu’s mind.

“He is… and is not… he…” Fan Shanlu began, but a slow, deliberate voice drifted from the star-strewn void behind them.

“Of course, I am the Seven-Colored Immortal Sovereign. I had no desire to slay you, only to reclaim my bow. I offer you one final chance – return it to me.” From the distant cosmos, the Seven-Colored Daoist materialized, slowly drawing nearer. His countenance seemed unchanged, as if the arrow had had no effect upon him.

But Wang Lin refused to believe it. This was not the moment for scrutiny, however. If the Daoist was intent on deception, Wang Lin could not discern the truth.

“Alas, if you seek death, then I shall be of assistance.” The Seven-Colored Daoist shook his head, a hint of regret in his eyes. He raised his right hand, pointing a single finger towards Wang Lin and Fan Shanlu.

At the tip of his finger, a shimmering crystal of seven hues materialized, instantly hurtling toward them. Upon impact, with a deafening roar, the crystal vanished, unleashing a wave of seven-colored light that engulfed ten thousand fathoms. The two were trapped within what appeared to be the vanished crystal itself.

In that instant, the crystal sphere enclosing them began to contract with terrifying speed. A chorus of cracking sounds filled the void, and Wang Lin felt a searing pain course through his body, as immense pressure threatened to crush him.

Fan Shanlu’s face paled. In this dire moment, she raised her right hand and wove a mystic seal. Once again, the seven jade handprints appeared, circling her. She spat a mouthful of blood upon the seals.

“Sister, aid me!”

Her voice was a desperate cry that shook the very fabric of the stars. It was as though a foreign presence pierced through the void. Simultaneously, in the Immortal Astral Continent, amidst a land perpetually locked in ice, a single, towering glacier stood. Within its frozen depths, a woman sat in meditative pose, her features identical to Fan Shanlu’s.

In that instant, her eyes snapped open, and she raised a finger to her brow.

A blinding flash of seven-colored light erupted from the woman’s forehead. At the same time, within the Cloud Sea rift of the Cave World, a similar burst of light exploded from Fan Shanlu’s brow. A foreign power, incomprehensible in its origins, surged into her body, unleashing a torrent of energy.

Fueled by this newfound strength, the seven handprints before Fan Shanlu glowed with an unearthly brilliance. With a thunderous boom, they swelled, expanding to hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands of fathoms, forcibly pushing back against the constricting crystal. The cage that held them shattered amidst the echoing thunder.

As the crystal dissolved, the gigantic handprints hurtled forward, a vengeful tempest aimed directly at the Seven-Colored Daoist.

“I have expended all my strength… take me away!” Fan Shanlu’s eyes dimmed. She staggered backward, into Wang Lin’s waiting arms. With a flicker, they vanished, reappearing nearly two million miles away.

Before them loomed a colossal vessel, the size of a mortal city. Its hull gleamed with a deep violet hue, a breathtaking spectacle of power. Layers of protective wards surrounded it, emitting an aura of immense pressure.

Above all, the ship’s banner snapped in the windless void, its cloth forming a terrifying visage of a ghostly face. Wang Lin, carrying Fan Shanlu, strode forward, passing through the defensive layers as though they did not exist. With a flash of light from Fan Shanlu’s body, they entered the ship unharmed.

“Who is he, truly?” Wang Lin demanded, setting Fan Shanlu on the deck. This question had weighed upon his heart for far too long.