The heavens wept a furious rain, the din echoing the tempestuous downpour. Yet, at the heart of the plaza, the great incense burner stood defiant. Within, nine colossal incense sticks burned bright, untouched by the storm’s fury. Cerulean smoke curled upwards, a stubborn defiance against the watery assault, painting the air with an ethereal, resilient beauty.

The mingling of rain and smoke wrought a spectacle, a dreamscape woven from water and vapor. It was in this moment, as the first drops fell, that a humble umbrella blossomed above Wang Lin’s head. The youth who held it, a follower of his path, seemed flushed with awkwardness, avoiding eye contact as he shielded his master and walked in his shadow.

Nearly a hundred cultivators stood within the plaza, their gazes drawn as one to this minor disruption. Foremost among them, a black-robed youth and his coterie frowned, words of reprimand poised on their lips. But then, a third peal of the bell reverberated through the air.

In the wake of the resonant chime, the incense smoke, defying gravity, twisted and converged into a colossal vortex. It churned with furious speed, driving the rain aside with its unseen force. Within this swirling tempest of cerulean, a shadowy form began to coalesce.

The form took a step forward, claiming its place between the heavens and the earth!

“Welcome, Master, from your seclusion!” The chorus rose from the hundred, their hands clasped in obeisance before the looming figure.

It was a man of middle years, his dark hair cascading freely over his shoulders. His features were not those of a handsome hero, yet he possessed an aura, a serene nobility, that spoke of a life intertwined with the mystic arts.

He surveyed his assembled disciples, his gaze finally settling upon Wang Lin. A slight furrow creased his brow as he noted the youth still holding the umbrella, but the frown softened, and a gentle smile touched his lips.

“Su Dao, Zhou Li, you two shall accompany me to the Grand Hall. The rest of you, be dismissed.” His voice was a calming balm, and as he spoke, he stepped into the rain, ascending the steps to the Grand Hall with effortless grace.

The black-robed youth who had almost rebuked Wang Lin, now his face a mask of somber respect, quickly affirmed his master’s command. Casting a sidelong glance at Wang Lin, he turned and hastened towards the Grand Hall.

Wang Lin remained impassive. He knew from the memories of the departed Seven-Colored Immortal that his master, in his earlier years, had been a kind and just man. Had he not been so often sequestered in long retreats, the Immortal might have avoided the injustice he suffered within the sect. Sadly, the Seven-Colored Immortal had been of a timid nature, hesitant to speak of these injustices.

Stepping into the rain, amidst envious glances from his fellow disciples, Wang Lin followed towards the Grand Hall. There, seated upon a grand chair, was the Master, with Zhou Li standing reverently at his side.

“My time freed from seclusion will be brief. I shall impart certain matters to you both before I return.” The Master’s voice was measured, his gaze lingering on Zhou Li and Wang Lin before pausing in contemplation.

This scene was etched in Wang Lin’s mind, drawn from the memories of the Seven-Colored Immortal’s third soul. He knew that, after these preliminary matters, his master would bestow upon him and Zhou Li the same mystical art.

This art was the gateway incantation to the Cloud Dao Celestial Technique, one of the Eastern Domain Sect’s three supreme arts. Mastery of the incantation could lead to the very essence of the technique.

The incantation was short, but peculiar. Not all could master it. As it was internalized and allowed to flow through the body, wisps of cloud-like vapor would rise. Thin, sparse vapor signified an inability to grasp the art. However, dense, billowing vapor, especially vapor that formed ephemeral images, denoted true potential.

Furthermore, the speed with which one could circulate the incantation was also a factor. In the Eastern Domain Sect’s long history, the fastest to complete the circulation was seven breaths, the slowest, several hours.

When the Seven-Colored Immortal had learned this art, a cold, dismissive glance from Zhou Li filled his heart with trepidation. Hesitation slowed his circulation, and he completed the process in a mere twenty breaths.

Zhou Li, on the other hand, completed it in eleven.

What was worse, as the vapors rose within him, his mind, overwhelmed by Zhou Li’s gaze, failed to focus. The cloud-like essence was paltry. Zhou Li’s was far more impressive, his cloud forming a phantom that devoured the Immortal’s meager essence whole.

The Seven-Colored Immortal’s master saw this, and sighed. He did not impart the Cloud Dao Celestial Technique, but instead, a lesser art – the Seven-Colored Celestial Arts.

All of this was within Wang Lin’s memory, seemingly immutable.

Now, the scene was replaying. Wang Lin stood silently, his mind grappling with a difficult choice. Should he embrace his past, follow the path of the Seven-Colored Immortal, or defy fate and rewrite history?

Logically, he should yield to the memories of the Seven-Colored Immortal, deepening their fusion. Only by complete assimilation could he possibly discover the true location of the Immortal’s grand design.

But that outcome was uncertain, and more importantly, Wang Lin recoiled at the prospect of merging completely with the third soul. Such a fusion would extinguish Xie Qing forever, his spirit lost in the newly-forged Seven-Colored Immortal.

And beyond this reason, Wang Lin simply could not bring himself to act in such a manner!

“…This art is one of the Eastern Domain Sect’s three supreme skills, known as the Cloud Dao Celestial Technique. However, you are not yet strong enough to learn the complete art, so you will learn the beginner’s skill first. But this entrance technique also has requirements. Only one person from each generation of each department of my Eastern Domain Sect can learn it. Today I chose you two, from which to find the most suitable for this technique…” The Master’s voice reverberated in the hall, opening his mouth, he also spoke of the selection method, including the thickness of the cloud and the time of operation in the body.

Zhou Li kept his head lowered, his eyes could not hide his desire.

“The Way of Heaven is loss, and if there is too much, it will not be replenished…” The Master spoke slowly, uttering the beginner’s incantation word by word. His right hand rose, extending two fingers twice, and two wisps of cloud-like energy roared out, falling into Zhou Li and Wang Lin’s bodies, disappearing into them.
A swirling vortex of mist poured into their bodies. “Both of you, assume the lotus position at once! Circulate the energy as swiftly as you can. The one who achieves completion first shall be deemed superior! Above all, do not allow errant thoughts to intrude. Focus your minds and circulate!” The middle-aged man’s pronouncement barely escaped his lips before Zhou Li, without hesitation, lowered himself to the ground and crossed his legs.

Wang Lin mirrored the action, preparing to draw the ethereal mist within when Zhou Li’s gaze, a venomous glare laced with blatant threat, snapped towards him.

The elder, of course, observed this transgression. His brow furrowed, yet he remained silent, his attention shifting to Wang Lin.

A sigh echoed in Wang Lin’s heart. It was this very look that had once crippled the courage of Su Dao, robbing him of his chance. But today, he was not Su Dao. He was Wang Lin. As Zhou Li’s malevolent stare bored into him, Wang Lin returned the gaze, his eyes flashing with glacial resolve.

The effect was immediate. Zhou Li recoiled, a tremor shuddering through his frame. He felt a palpable surge of killing intent erupt from Wang Lin’s eyes, a psychic blow that shook him to his core.

Meanwhile, Wang Lin had already closed his eyes, the nascent clouds within him whirling into motion. Zhou Li, belatedly understanding the gravity of the situation, hastily followed suit, his own circulation frantic.

Time trickled by, one breath, two breaths, three…

At the eighth breath, an eruption of swirling mist burst forth from Wang Lin’s body. The elder’s eyes blazed with excitement, and he surged to his feet.

The fog around Wang Lin intensified, soon engulfing the greater part of the hall. Within the swirling vapor, echoes of savage roars resounded.

By the twentieth breath, Zhou Li had barely managed a single, incomplete circuit. A faint aura of mist clung to him, utterly dwarfed by Wang Lin’s spectacular display.

Then, as Zhou Li’s meager mist dissipated, the tempestuous cloud surrounding Wang Lin thundered, coalescing into a colossal, dragon’s head!

The draconic visage was fearsome, its eyes burning with unholy light. It lunged towards Zhou Li, its maw agape. With a single, ravenous gulp, it devoured Zhou Li’s remaining mist, causing him to cough up a mouthful of blood and wilt.

The world twisted, a reality undone. The hall, the middle-aged man with his gaze fixated on Wang Lin, all contorted.

Outside the hall, the plaza, the mountains beyond, the entire Eastern Peaks Sect, and all of the surrounding world contorted, threatening to collapse.

It was a vision of apocalyptic proportions, triggered by the manipulation of memory.

“Excellent! Su Dao, from this day forward, you are the second of my lineage deemed worthy to learn the Celestial Art of Clouds!” The distorted elder boomed, his voice an unnatural echo. He turned to Zhou Li, his expression callous.

“Zhou Li, while you are unworthy to learn the Celestial Art of Clouds, I can pass onto you the Mystic Colors Techniques!”

As the elder’s words died, Wang Lin’s mind erupted in a searing pain. The world threatened to shatter, and within the reality forged from Mystic Colors memories, eight nascent energies burst forth, only to flicker and vanish. The chaos then gave way to an unnatural calm, the world returning to its deceptive normalcy.

Yet within Wang Lin, a maelstrom raged.

“I understand! By twisting the Mystic Colors Immortal’s memories, I can create contradictions and confusion. In that moment of chaos, I can glimpse the location of the eight gates! The greater the discord, the clearer the vision, allowing me to find the true gate amongst them!

This is my only way! To twist the Mystic Colors memories!”

“Su Dao, you must redouble your training in these coming days. In five months, the Eastern Peaks Sect’s internal competition will be held. The top ten will be granted access to the Eastern Peaks Pool. If you spend but a single day within, your potential will be boundless!”

Everything had changed.

Wang Lin snapped his head up.

(To Be Continued…)