Writhing in agony, Wang Lin unleashed a primal roar, a sound born of torment and desperate defiance.

In that instant, the twin Shadow Blades, as if answering his anguished cry, rose with unnatural speed. A single stroke descended, cleaving through his very being. A surge of crimson light erupted from Wang Lin’s body, a radiant explosion that shook him to his core. The alien power of the Sealed Extinguisher Clan, woven into the blade’s essence, tore his spirit, his nascent divinity, into three distinct fragments.

Even as the deed was done, the Shadow Blade shattered, its remnants dissolving into motes of light that vanished into the void.

“Sever the Three Selves!” Wang Lin gasped, his voice raspy with pain. With no hesitation, he bellowed the command into the silent cosmos.

The remaining Shadow Blade, now a solitary echo of its former self, abandoned its ethereal stillness. A deafening shriek ripped through the void as it lifted, its edge aimed once more at Wang Lin’s trembling form. A third strike, final and decisive, was about to fall.

With a thunderous roar that echoed across the stars, the blade plunged through Wang Lin’s body, instantly shattering upon impact. The echoes of its demise heralded a more profound unraveling: Wang Lin’s physical form split asunder, dividing into three distinct beings.

Each fragment possessed a fraction of his soul, a portion of his original spirit, and in that pivotal moment, each surged towards the three grotesque altars of the Sealed Extinguisher Clan that loomed nearby.

The altars, ravenous for spiritual essence, greedily absorbed the fragmented souls and bodies. Each pulsed with an increasingly malevolent crimson light as they began to revolve around one another, a macabre dance that stretched across the passage of seven suns.

As the days waned, the crimson glow emanating from the altars gradually diminished, flickering like dying embers. But as the second celestial cycle completed, the light vanished completely.

In that moment of utter darkness, a surge of raw power erupted from one of the altars. The energy was so immense, so utterly unrestrained, that it overwhelmed the very structure holding it captive. The altar imploded in a cataclysmic burst.

From the heart of the devastation, Wang Lin emerged, whole and reborn.

Simultaneously, the second altar convulsed violently, its foundations cracking and groaning under an unbearable strain. It disintegrated into a shower of debris, the fragments spinning and colliding in a chaotic ballet. From amidst the wreckage, a second Wang Lin materialized.

Finally, the last altar, the infamous Blood Pavilion, underwent its own violent transformation. Layers of blood-soaked stone exploded outwards, unleashing a torrent of ancient power that rent the sky. The Blood Pavilion could not contain the unleashed energies and shattered into oblivion.

From the ruins, a third Wang Lin strode forth, his steps measured and deliberate.

“The Three Life Technique…” the first Wang Lin intoned, his voice a somber echo.

“Forced Creation of Ghosts…” the second uttered, his tone measured and even.

“Three Bodies, One Soul!” the third proclaimed, his eyes burning with an arcane light.

As these words escaped their lips, the three Wang Lins moved in unison, each taking a single, decisive step forward. In a blink, they merged, collided, and coalesced into a single being. When the chaos subsided, only one Wang Lin remained.

His silver hair billowed in the void as his eyes remained closed, the universe seemingly held its breath. He savored the potent vitality coursing through his veins, a triple-fold surge of power that dwarfed his previous strength.

“The Three Life Technique is indeed extraordinary. With it, I possess not one life, but three!” Wang Lin finally opened his eyes, his gaze filled with newfound confidence.

He raised his right hand, revealing a wisp of spectral energy held within his palm. It was the soul of a woman, his former acquaintance who had been trapped within the Blood Pavilion.

“Our debts are settled. I release you to the cycle of rebirth. May you find peace,” Wang Lin declared, releasing the spirit into the cosmos. It vanished without a trace.

He then turned his gaze to the remnants of the shattered altars, a hint of regret clouding his expression.

“My soul and body were too strong. The altars of the Sealed Extinguisher Clan could not withstand the strain of my fragmentation. Thus, they crumbled and vanished. After this day, the Three Life Technique will be lost forever…”

Wang Lin shook his head in resignation. He had divided not only his Dao Ancient lineage but also his cultivation and his very being into three parts. In the merging, he had gained three lives, but at the cost of the technique itself.

“My physical form has received a significant boost from the Dao Ancient lineage, and my Demon, Devil, and God awakenings have reached eight stars. The time has come to leave this place… but before I do, I must fully refine the Ghost-Face Sail. If I can unlock its secrets, perhaps my Forbidden Arts will ascend to become a seventh Origin!”

“Should a Forbidden Arts Origin manifest, my cultivation will surge from the mid-stage to the late-stage of the Emptiness Spirit Realm! Combined with the Dao Ancient lineage, I should be able to challenge even an Emptiness Profound Realm cultivator!”

“And then there is the Origin of War. The insights I gained have transformed into Rules Stars, but they require time to realign. If I can birth that Origin as well, I will reach the pinnacle of the Emptiness Spirit Realm!” Wang Lin murmured, taking his seat in the star-strewn expanse. With a flick of his wrist, the Ghost-Face Sail materialized before him.

“The Forbidden Arts Origin is secondary. What truly matters is that the Ghost-Face Sail was used as a medium for illusory arts by that Fan Shanmeng. Within it lies the illusory path of the Great Soul Sect…”

“This illusory path is the key. I must study it closely. If I can gain a glimmer of understanding, perhaps I can use this treasure to find my own Third Soul, just as the Seven-Colored Daoist has attempted.”

“The current situation hinges on who can find their Third Soul first!”

Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed as he untangled the threads of fate, piecing together the fragments of possibility within his mind.

“The Seven-Colored Daoist saw something within the illusion, something that enraged him. He has not yet found the reincarnation of his Third Soul.”

“Besides him, there is the Old War Ghost, who is also searching. His methods and motives remain shrouded in secrecy… but neither can be underestimated. They ignited a war between the Inner and Outer Realms in their pursuit of the Third Soul. Now that the war has ended, they may be using the methods gained through conflict to further their search.”

“And beyond them, there are the Four War Generals of the Ancient Immortal Realm and the countless immortals who have emerged. They are a third force, also seeking the Third Soul… and I suspect that the Nado lineage of the Five Planets, who have been lurking here for countless years, are also about to reveal themselves…”

“Third Soul… who are you truly?” Wang Lin pondered, his thoughts gradually coalescing.

“Only by finding the Third Soul can we reach the gate, open it, and lead all of us to the Immortal Gang Continent…” Wang Lin closed his eyes, then opened them once more, revealing a calm that belied the tumultuous storm within. He dismissed the swirling thoughts and turned his attention to the Ghost-Face Sail.

But as he did, Wang Lin’s expression shifted. An electric jolt seemed to course through his mind. He snapped his head towards the distant stars, a dark cloud settling upon his face.
“I miscalculated. I forgot one,” Wang Lin hissed, a chilling glint in his eyes. The realization had struck him like a viper’s fang – one name, one being, he refused to believe was dead.

“Tian Yunzi! He who once possessed the Blood of Heaven. Though the Azure Dragon Sacred Emperor deemed it tainted, Tian Yunzi would not perish so easily. He has remained hidden, vanished even amidst the great wars between realms…”

Wang Lin’s brow furrowed. “His machinations are legendary. He plotted against me long ago, and now he lurks in the shadows. How could I have forgotten him?”

A dark suspicion crept into Wang Lin’s thoughts. “The Seven-Colored Immortal, shattered into three souls and seven spirits… I know Qingshui is one of the seven spirits, and I have guesses about others. Could Tian Yunzi be another of those spirits? Or… could he be the Third Soul itself?” His gaze flickered, his mind conjuring the Seven-Colored illusion, the Third Soul’s journey across the Zhao River and into the Kunxu realm.

“If the Third Soul settled in Kunxu, then Tian Yunzi’s location would be too obvious… But if he *is* the Third Soul…” Wang Lin massaged his temples, unable to decipher Tian Yunzi’s motives. From the moment he became Tian Yunzi’s disciple, he had harbored a deep, ever-growing dread of the man’s inscrutable nature.

“Tian Yunzi consumed countless disciples, and within his mind, I glimpsed three thousand of his own fragmented selves… I did not understand it then, assuming it was a desperate attempt to transcend to the Third Step…”

“But now, I wonder if those three thousand selves were a source of incense, or perhaps… something else entirely!” A maelstrom of possibilities swirled in Wang Lin’s mind, but the deeper he delved, the more elusive Tian Yunzi’s true purpose became.

“Even the Celestial Tribulation of the Ancient Immortal Realm lacked any sign of Tian Yunzi’s destiny…” Wang Lin silenced his racing thoughts. Speculation would lead nowhere. Time would eventually reveal the truth.

His gaze sharpened, focusing on the tattered ghost-faced banner in his hand. He began to meticulously examine its surface, its fabric woven with countless layers of interwoven restrictions – the Four Great Prohibitions among them.

“To birth the Source of Restriction, I must deduce and combine. All the restrictions within this banner must be forged into a single entity. Only then will the true Source emerge.” He whispered the incantation as his spirit plunged into the banner.

He sought to catalog every existing seal.

The wind swirled around the banner in his hand, its ghostly visage contorting as Wang Lin’s awareness probed every inch. Ten days passed in a blink.

For ten days, Wang Lin remained motionless, his entire being consumed by the task before him. Millions upon millions of restrictions flashed through his mind.

On the eleventh day, his eyes bloodshot, he finally raised his head.

“They evolve on their own. The true number is impossible to calculate.” Wang Lin pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted by the mental exertion.

“A perfect, self-sustaining web of restrictions, contained within this banner… I must shatter its perfection to begin the process of fusion.” A flicker of hesitation crossed his face as he stared at the sinister fabric.

With a grunt of determination, Wang Lin summoned his blood-red sword. Its crimson aura illuminated his face as he slashed it across the banner.

With a thunderous roar, the sword tore a ragged opening in the enchanted cloth. In that instant, Wang Lin poured his entire consciousness through the breach, plunging into the heart of the banner.

The ghost-faced banner convulsed, its image twisting in silent screams. A violent gust of wind exploded from the tear, unleashing a storm of countless restrictions. They swirled around Wang Lin, filling the void and engulfing every corner of the Cloud Sea Crack.

The Cloud Sea Crack became a prison of interwoven enchantments, a tempest of restrictions churning in the void.

Wang Lin’s form vanished, swallowed by the infinite weave of arcane energy.

When the storm of restrictions collapses, forging a singular, unified entity, Wang Lin’s Source of Restriction will be complete! It will grant him the power to challenge even a late-stage Sky Profound cultivator.