As the second arrow was loosed from the bow, the golden luminescence of Wang Lin’s immortal bloodline, once vibrant within his eyes, began to crumble. It threatened to dissipate entirely, to vanish from his very gaze. Yet, in that fleeting moment before oblivion, Wang Lin forcibly rallied his will, preserving the faintest ember.

This sliver, this dying spark, was the last vestige of his celestial heritage.

Fearing prying eyes, Wang Lin sealed his vision the instant the second arrow soared.

He knew in his heart that one draw remained, but it would be his last.

As the arrow flew, the starfield roared in defiance, its fabric unfurling like silken banners ripped asunder, threatening to unravel into utter ruin. The Seven-Colored Daoist howled to the heavens, already unnerved by the eight abyssal-eyed fish with their barely open gazes. Now, with Wang Lin’s second arrow, his spirit trembled. He unleashed the full torrent of his cultivation.

A wave of kaleidoscopic light erupted, and around the Daoist’s form, seven shimmering barriers arose, each a different hue. Within these walls, a myriad of arcane symbols danced. Even as they materialized, the eight abyssal fish hurtled toward him.

From afar, the fish were seen to shrink with unnatural speed as they approached. In a blinding flash of dark energy, they were transformed into eight perfect replicas of the arrow Wang Lin had loosed!

Each possessed the same deadly grace, the same chilling aura. This spectacle stunned not only the Seven-Colored Daoist but also the Palm Sovereign, the Three War Generals, and every other cultivator who witnessed it.

“Could this be the fabled talent bestowed upon the abyssal fish when it opens its eyes?” The elderly Ma of the Five Planets, watching from afar, gasped, his eyes wide with wonder.

Nearby, Xuan Luo, the Great Celestial Sovereign, remained serene, his gaze sweeping over the eight transformed fish. He alone knew the secret power of these creatures.

“The abyssal fish, once its eyes are opened, can mimic any object with a semblance of its original power… but they are exceedingly rare,” Xuan Luo murmured, a spark of interest ignited within his eyes. “To find so many within this grotto is… intriguing.”

Now, nine Li Guang arrows, indistinguishable from one another, hurtled towards the Seven-Colored Daoist, blurring together in a deadly dance. Panic twisted his features. The rainbow barriers around him buckled and groaned under the assault!

In a final, desperate act, the colorful shields shattered, along with eight of the Li Guang arrows. Yet, their essence refused to be extinguished. They spun in the void, reforming into eight exhausted abyssal fish. They drifted, spent and broken, near the first of their kin. The ninth arrow, piercing the chaos, surged forth.

A pained moan echoed from within the fray. A fist-sized hole ripped open the Seven-Colored Daoist’s chest. Blood gushed from the wound, the crimson testament to the devastating power of the Li Guang arrow!

With a thunderous roar, the Seven-Colored Daoist, heedless of his grievous wound, staggered towards Wang Lin. His face was a mask of hatred, twisted with a madness that threatened to consume him.

“I would forfeit my third soul to end you!” he bellowed. His hands flashed in a complex series of arcane gestures, and around him, nine blinding suns erupted into existence.

These nine suns were the ultimate expression of the Seven-Colored Daoist’s power, and he unleashed them without hesitation, determined to obliterate Wang Lin.

Pale and teetering on the brink of collapse, Wang Lin summoned the last vestiges of his strength. With a desperate, defiant grimace, he clutched the Li Guang Bow. He pulled the string taut once more. He knew this would likely be his last act.

The bow sang a sorrowful dirge. Another Li Guang arrow materialized, its tip stained with the Daoist’s blood. As Wang Lin released the string, the arrow surged forth for the third time!

And as the third arrow sped forth, Wang Lin closed his eyes, concealing the fading golden light within his pupils. It was gone. All was spent.

As the third arrow approached, the Seven-Colored Daoist, chest still hemorrhaging, lashed out with his hands. A blinding fury consumed him. Never had he suffered such grievous injury, especially at the hands of one so far beneath him.

But what stoked the fires of his rage most was the accursed Li Guang Bow itself. The very bow he had once commissioned the Palm Sovereign to deliver. He had intended it as a means to lure Lian Dao Fei and sow discord between Wang Lin and the War General Zhan.

For neither he nor Zhan could wield its true power. It was incomplete in their hands.

But now, it was this very bow that had brought him low. The irony was unbearable.

With a final, desperate gesture, he unleashed the nine suns. Each one unleashed a cataclysmic burst of light, hurtling towards the approaching arrow.

The heavens themselves seemed to shudder as the third arrow collided with the nine suns. One by one, the suns detonated in a series of earth-shattering explosions. Yet, the arrow, too, began to unravel, its form breaking into glittering shards. Finally, an all-encompassing, blinding light swallowed everything.

The nine suns exploded, unleashing a force that defied description. The Azure Dragon War General, caught too close to the epicenter, was annihilated instantly, his body reduced to dust in a heartbeat.

The very fabric of the starfield was torn asunder. An entire realm died.

But the cataclysm was not yet complete. This apocalyptic force, the unleashed essence of the Seven-Colored Daoist’s cultivation, surged forth to engulf the Three Hundred Shattered Realms. They offered no resistance. One by one, they crumbled into dust under the apocalyptic wave.

The Black Tortoise War General, paralyzed by terror, screamed as he and the Vermillion Bird War General turned to flee. The Palm Sovereign himself, pale as death, retreated.

Far away, Third Concubine, Daoist Blue Dream, and the members of the Five Planets retreated in terror, desperate to escape the wave of destruction.
At the heart of the annihilating force stood the Prismal Daoist, his chest a tempest of echoes. The three arrows, once unleashed, shattered against the might of the Nine Suns, their residual energies crashing into the Prismal Daoist’s very being. His wounds deepened, and crimson sprayed forth, leaving him grievously hurt.

Yet, a maddening gleam still burned within his eyes.

“So close to such destruction, with your meager cultivation, how do you hope to withstand it?!” he shrieked.

Wang Lin was indeed in close proximity. The tide of annihilation surged towards him, consuming stars and shattering realms in its wake. Even Wang Lin’s Dao-infused physique, forged from ancient lineage, could not withstand a direct blow; contact would mean utter oblivion.

But Wang Lin was no fool. He had anticipated this calamitous surge and made his preparations accordingly. As the wave of destruction roared closer, poised to engulf him, Wang Lin’s hands moved with practiced precision, forming a mystic seal. His right hand shot out, seizing the void itself.

“Forgive me!” Wang Lin muttered, his voice barely audible.

A blinding golden light erupted, revealing a figure clad in tattered robes, snoring loudly in a deep slumber. A madman, ripped from the depths of oblivion and thrust before Wang Lin.

This madman possessed the Immortal Body, impervious to the ravages of collapsing stars. He stirred in his sleep, muttering incoherently as Wang Lin’s grip tightened on his shoulders. The gesture irritated the slumbering figure; he shifted slightly, then resumed his boisterous slumber.

But in that very instant, the destructive surge crashed against the madman, engulfing him in raw, annihilating power. A fierce, golden aura flared around the madman’s form, and against all odds, he remained unscathed!

The impact, however, jolted him awake. His bleary eyes fluttered open, revealing a confused, instinctive rage. Still half-asleep and disoriented, he turned his fury towards the Prismal Daoist, unleashing a thunderous roar.

“Who?! WHO dares disturb the King’s slumber?! You are all tormentors! I shall tell my brother! You have gone too far!” He bellowed at the Prismal Daoist, oblivious to the fact that Wang Lin was holding him by the shoulders, using him as a shield against the brunt of the devastation.

“To disturb the King’s rest with tickling! You… you…” His words trailed off, replaced by the return of his snoring. His head lolled, and he drifted back into slumber, as if his outburst had been nothing more than a fevered dream.

But his sudden appearance, his incoherent words, sent shockwaves through the very fabric of the conflict. The Prismal Daoist, already heavily wounded, saw the madman, and his expression twisted with sudden, stark realization. He could not fathom how many more tricks Wang Lin had up his sleeve. If the madman, along with Wang Lin’s Li Guang Bow, turned against him, his doom would be sealed. Gripping his teeth, the Prismal Daoist retreated, choosing flight over confrontation for the first time in his battle with Wang Lin!

Far off, the battle-scarred Old Ghost, shrouded in his ghostly fog, had long since opened his eyes. He remained within his misty veil, watching the spectacle unfold, his gaze flickering with unknown calculations.

Even the fleeing Palming Sovereign faltered, nearly plunging headlong into the void at the madman’s words.

“M-Master?!” he whispered in disbelief.

The Xuanwu and Zhuque battle generals, also fleeing in terror, spun around, their eyes wide with disbelief. They stared at the madman in Wang Lin’s grasp, their faces etched with primal fear.

“Lian Dao Fei!” they gasped.

Their shock echoed throughout the battlefield. Even the Third Consort paled, her face losing all color as a moment of stunned disbelief washed over her.

The members of the Five Planets Sect, led by the elder Ma, trembled in unison. The elder Ma, in particular, stared at the madman with utter dread.

“He… He is here?!” The elder Ma clearly did not know of Lian Dao Fei’s earlier presence, and the sight sent his mind reeling, his thoughts scattering.

Even Xuan Luo, the Great Heavenly Venerate, paused in his steps toward the Nine-Eyed Carps, his hand still grasping the fifth creature. He fixed his gaze on the madman, his eyes gleaming with a strange, newfound interest.

“Lian Dao Fei… Lian Daozhen’s younger brother! He has come here as well…”