Upon the summit of Winged Mountain, within the Eastern Lands of the Celestial Continent, where Seven Paths Sect of Taurus Isle resided, Xuan Luo knelt in meditation before the towering, cloud-veiled halls. For years, he waited patiently.

Half a year had passed since the decade promised between himself and Wang Lin had drawn to a close. Yet Xuan Luo remained, steadfast in his vigil. The crimson mark upon his brow, once vibrant, had faded entirely, leaving no trace of its former brilliance.

The mark’s disappearance signified that the path of Wang Lin’s return was lost, or perhaps, more grimly, that Wang Lin had met his end.

“Has he failed?” Xuan Luo lamented, a sorrowful sigh escaping his lips as he closed his eyes. He resolved to wait a while longer, clinging to the faintest hope of a miracle, however improbable it might be.

In the tearful depths, within the ethereal layers of the Celestial Continent, Wang Lin, his hair disheveled, trudged onward, the Heaven-Shrouding Coffin borne upon his back. Reason had fled, strength had waned; only an unwavering will propelled him forward.

Within that will burned the oath to safeguard the one within, to never surrender.

The crimson glow upon his brow had vanished half a year past. No longer could he sense the path ahead. His sole recourse was to resist retreat, to maintain his forward trajectory in the desperate hope of finding egress.

Ten years he had endured in this pitch-black void, within a silence that threatened madness. Through gritted teeth, Wang Lin persevered. Had it not been for that indomitable will, his spirit would surely have shattered.

Indeed, were it not for a chance occurrence as the crimson light faded, his struggle would have been futile, for his Dao Ancient cultivation had dwindled perilously over the decade.

Then, suddenly, a glimmer appeared in the void ahead, faint and distant, emanating from what appeared to be the remains of a corpse.

As he drew closer, the image sharpened. It was an aged figure clad in violet robes, eyes shut in eternal slumber. No life remained within. Yet, the white light radiating from the corpse shone brilliantly in the surrounding darkness.

From whence this elder came, none could say. Though deceased, within the white aura that enshrouded him, a strange power seemed to coalesce.

The instant this luminous corpse materialized, Wang Lin’s dim eyes flared with sudden intensity. He raised his head and surged forward, propelled by a desperate urgency, reaching the corpse in a rush. His withered hand plunged into the white light, grasping the elder’s chest and drawing in a breath.

In that single inhalation, the white light surrounding the corpse condensed within Wang Lin’s grasp, vanishing swiftly. The strange power within the elder’s breast flowed through Wang Lin’s hand and into his own being.

The power surged through Wang Lin, a frigid sensation, yet this very chill cleared his mind. As his body absorbed the energy, his withered essence began to revive, and even his Dao Ancient power slowly recovered.

Releasing his grip, he allowed the lightless corpse to drift away. Wang Lin’s complexion brightened slightly in the void.

He knew not the nature of this power. Some time ago, he had encountered similar remnants and, upon absorbing their power, had found the strength to continue.

This power was exceedingly mysterious. Not only did it restore essence, but it also revived Dao Ancient strength, a seemingly impossible feat. Yet, here, in this void, it had manifested before Wang Lin.

In a decade, Wang Lin had only encountered two such corpses!

His spirit renewed, Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed. He channeled his cultivation, resisting the crushing pressure of the Celestial Laws. Shouldering the coffin, as if sensing Li Muwan’s presence within, Wang Lin continued his solitary trek forward.

His pace was slow, but unwavering, and his course remained unchanged.

“A decade has passed… I know not where the end lies… I should not falter…” Wang Lin gritted his teeth, vanishing into the distance. “This power is exceedingly strange. If I could encounter more, I would not perish from exhaustion!” As he walked, he spread his spiritual sense in search of the light.

Yet, encountering these luminous corpses remained a matter of pure chance. Even with a focused search and an unwavering course, they proved elusive.

A year passed in the relentless search and onward march, yet Wang Lin encountered no third corpse. His cultivation was dwindling toward its limit, his lamp nearing its end.

Wang Lin’s appearance grew gaunt and spectral. Even those who knew him well would struggle to recognize him. The light in his eyes faded, until they held no gleam, like those of the dead.

He knew not how far the path extended. This uncertainty bred a terrible anxiety, capable of shattering even Wang Lin’s formidable will.

But whenever his hand found the coffin upon his back, a surge of determination would erupt within him, urging him to never surrender.

Yet, the harsh reality of the passage of time eroded Wang Lin’s sanity, and several months later, he fell into a comatose state.

His body no longer radiated any life force, yet even in his unconsciousness, he shielded the coffin upon his back, even as it cracked and threatened to disintegrate without his protection.

A lone figure and a coffin, drifting silently in the void. In the moment of Wang Lin’s collapse, the oppressive force of the Celestial Laws vanished entirely.

Wang Lin was unaware of this strange shift. Now lifeless, bereft even of the protective Three Life Incantation, he drifted aimlessly, the coffin upon his back, drawn to a new location.

Like the corpses he had encountered along the way, he floated, lost in the eternal void.

A year, two years, three years… time lost all meaning. Wang Lin remained still, eyes closed, as if dead.
Upon the Immortal Astral Continent, within the misty depths of the Sevenfold Sect of Black Mountain in the Eastern Lands, Xuan Luo, a sigh heavy with fifteen years of waiting, arose.

Not that he wished to forsake his vigil, but the surge of celestial energy now emanating from the distant heavens rendered his continued presence impossible. This aura, earth-shattering and profound, stirred the very fabric of reality with its approach. A golden sun materialized in the sky, within its radiant heart stood a towering figure.

Simultaneously, from another direction, a second sun bloomed, and from within its core, Dao Yi gazed, his eyes like chips of ice.

Xuan Luo knew his time had come.

“Disciple…farewell and thrive…if you yet live, you will seek me at the Dao Ancient Sect…” Xuan Luo murmured, a wistful sorrow coloring his voice. With a sweeping gesture, he unleashed a torrent of crimson energy that stained the heavens. His form dissolved into a bloody shadow, ascending swiftly towards the celestial heights.

Xuan Luo was gone. Beyond the Sevenfold Sect, there would be none to await the return of Wang Lin. And Wang Lin himself, adrift in the void, had altered his course, floating aimlessly, becoming but a fragment amidst the cosmic wreckage.

Years passed, and some were reborn upon the Immortal Astral Continent, while others remained lost in the labyrinthine pathways of reincarnation, perhaps centuries before their emergence.

The disparity in their fates remained an enigma, even to Xuan Luo.

On the Immortal Astral Continent, in a humble county within the Western Lands, a child was born. This babe was of peculiar stock, for even at the tender age of six or seven, he would often proclaim himself to be a sovereign during games with his peers.

Those who dared to defy his self-proclaimed royalty were met with swift and forceful rebuke. His ferocious nature slowly instilled fear within his playmates, who, more often than not, yielded to his demands, and played along as his royal subjects.

Meanwhile, in the Southern Lands, amidst the Immortal Clan of the Astral Continent, another child was born in that era. This one, too, was marked by destiny. Though misfortune befell his family early in life, by the age of ten, he had already earned a reputation as a cunning trickster within his village.

However, fame proved a double-edged sword, as his notoriety hampered his deceptive craft. Thus, the child departed his home, his talent for deception his only companion, venturing into the unknown.

Time, in its relentless flow, carried on, leaving its mark.

Xuan Luo had long returned to the Dao Ancient Sect, his spirit dimmed. He chose seclusion. The Dao Ancient Emperor, observing Xuan Luo’s solitary return, harbored a secret satisfaction and slowly ceased to ponder the purpose of Xuan Luo’s mission to seek a certain someone.

It seemed that many had cast aside the name Wang Lin, both upon the Immortal Astral Continent and within the Realm of the Cave. Yet, there remained a select few who, in their moments of reflection, could not erase his memory.

Mu Bingmei was among them. As was Tang Shan upon the Astral Continent. And even Yun Yifeng, who was now rising like a radiant sun within the Returning to One Sect, remembered Wang Lin with a sense of awe.

Equally unable to forget Wang Lin was the Mosquito King, lost in the void. This monstrous beast, having been relentlessly pursued by Wang Lin, had embarked on a furious quest with its nine kin, feverishly absorbing the essence of Immortal Astral law that permeated the void.

Through this assimilation, the Mosquito King had undergone four transformations in the span of decades! Each metamorphosis amplified its strength exponentially, as if it were an embodiment of the very laws of the universe. With each change, the crushing pressure of the void diminished, until it no longer held sway.

Finally, after its fifth transformation, Wang Lin’s Mosquito King unleashed an aura that reverberated throughout the void. Its physical form no longer resembled a mere cultivation star. Instead, it had undergone a complete alteration, becoming a wispy mist.

This swirling haze, like a mosquito born from an ink painting, lacked a tangible form, yet its ferocity reached its apex.

Then, the Mosquito King ceased to absorb the unseen laws of the Immortal Astral Continent. Its body erupted, scattering into a dense fog, and it devoured its nine brethren, merging their essences into a single entity. Raising a boundless, impenetrable mist, it hurtled towards the deeper reaches of the void, seeking Wang Lin, its master!