Desperate, it cast off its former self, venturing into perilous evolution. It devoured its brethren, all for a singular purpose: to find Wang Lin, to find its master!

Its sorrowful cry echoed through the void. It no longer possessed a body, only a nebulous mist. With blinding speed, it spread across the endless expanse, its eagerness fueling its search. Abruptly, it halted, and a deafening roar heralded its complete disintegration.

The swirling mist fragmented into ten thousand wisps, each becoming a mosquito-like beast, venturing forth in ten thousand directions. Each carried a desperate cry, a summons echoing through the cosmos for its lost master.

Deep within the desolate emptiness, in a forgotten realm, drifted a corpse, embraced by a coffin. The corpse’s right hand, clenched tightly upon the coffin’s edge, would not relinquish its grip, even at the cost of bone and sinew.

Decades had passed in this silent, drifting vigil.

Slowly, a faint, ethereal luminescence began to emanate from the corpse, much like the spectral glow Wang Lin had once absorbed from long-dead beings. A peculiar energy coalesced upon its chest, drawn from the very fabric of nothingness.

Then, on a fateful day, as the corpse and coffin continued their lonely journey, a tiny, wisp-like mosquito, no larger than a thumb, appeared in the distance. It buzzed erratically, a desperate sound in the void. It flitted past the corpse and coffin, but in an instant, it shuddered, pivoting in the air and fixing its gaze upon the distant form.

A cry, choked with emotion, shattered the silence. The mosquito, driven mad with hope, darted toward the corpse with unrestrained velocity, alighting upon it and staring intently at the withered face. Its cries, though wordless, spoke volumes of grief, an anguished lament surpassing any mortal tongue.

At its sorrowful call, wisp after wisp coalesced from the surrounding nothingness, each transforming into a mosquito-like creature. Soon, all ten thousand had gathered, merging together to form the Mosquito King, the herald of Wang Lin!

Its eyes burned crimson, and as it cried out in despair, its massive proboscis gently brushed against Wang Lin’s form, as if to rouse him from his eternal slumber. But each attempt proved futile.

Countless tries, countless failures. The Mosquito King trembled, its cries growing hoarse, a testament to its overwhelming despair. After years of searching, it had finally found its master, only to discover a lifeless shell.

The simple mind of the Mosquito King could not accept this cruel fate. With a sudden surge of resolve, it enveloped Wang Lin and the coffin in its embrace, transforming into a tempestuous cloud and hurtling away into the unknown.

The void, a terrifying realm to most, held no fear for the Mosquito King, who had undergone five transformations within its depths. Driven by desperation, it traversed impossible distances with Wang Lin and his coffin in tow.

Through its trials, within its very essence, the Mosquito King retained fragmented memories of this realm, imbued with the laws of the Immortals. A faint glimmer of understanding suggested that somewhere, perhaps, lay a place where its master could be awakened.

But this place was hidden, even for one as attuned to the void as itself.

After an eternity of searching, the Mosquito King finally beheld a sight to pierce the gloom: the first semblance of land, a gently curved platform suspended in the void!

It was less a continent, more a fragment, a piece of something greater. No more than ten thousand fathoms in size, it radiated a pale luminescence, reminiscent of the bodies Wang Lin had once absorbed.

The platform was devoid of life, yet protected by an invisible barrier, crafted from the very laws of the Immortals. Not even the mighty Xuan Luo could pierce this barrier. Only those born of the Immortal’s law—the Immortal Ancestor, the Ancient Ancestor, and their nine mythical beasts—could blend with the barrier and pass through.

In its fragmented memories, the Mosquito King recalled its ancestors being born within a similar platform. If Wang Lin could but enter such a place, it believed, he would surely awaken!

With renewed hope, the Mosquito King plunged toward the barrier, carrying Wang Lin and the coffin. With a deafening crash, the Mosquito King passed through, but Wang Lin and the coffin remained outside, rejected by the ethereal shield.

Confused, the Mosquito King turned and exited the barrier, then tried again, to no avail. Frustration mounted, and the Mosquito King buzzed with agitation. With a desperate act, it tore a strand of hair from Wang Lin’s head and plunged back toward the platform. Again, it alone passed through, while the strand of hair drifted away, scattered by the void.

Driven to the brink, the Mosquito King flew back to Wang Lin, buzzing mournfully at the unyielding platform. Finally, a mad idea took root. Its massive proboscis shrunk to the size of a needle and pierced Wang Lin’s skin. Carefully, it drew a single drop of blood from the nearly desiccated body.

The Mosquito King swallowed the droplet, surrounding it with its ethereal form, and once more rushed toward the barrier. This time, as its body entered the threshold, a piercing shriek tore from its being, as though it were being torn apart. Only by expelling the drop of blood could it hope to pass.

The Mosquito King writhed in agony, attempting to force its way through, but the barrier held firm. No matter how much it struggled, it could only penetrate halfway. With bloodshot eyes, the Mosquito King contracted its form, gathering all its essence to protect the single drop of blood. Then, with a final, desperate act, it violently expelled the droplet, casting it back into the void.
His very essence, halfway submerged within the shimmering membrane, especially his mandibles, sputtered forth a torrent of crimson. The lifeblood, with unnatural speed, pierced the veil and vanished within!

Yet this ethereal barrier, a guardian of its realm, rejected all foreign essence. The moment Wang Lin’s blood trespassed, it threatened to vaporize, to dissolve into nothingness. But then, with a surge of desperate loyalty, the Mosquito King plunged through, shielding the crimson droplet with its own fading form, a howl of agony echoing from its maw.

Its body, once formidable, began to dissipate, shrinking with frightening speed. Yet, through its selfless sacrifice, a single, shimmering fragment of the blood survived, falling upon the curved platform below!

From time immemorial, this was the first alien essence, untainted by the laws of Immortal Astral, to grace this hallowed ground. Moreover, this very drop of blood was born from the dormant or perhaps deceased body of Wang Lin, after it coalesced white light.

And thus, this single crimson tear would bring about a destiny, an awakening of such profound magnitude that it would dwarf all that had come before in his two millennia of cultivation. A transformation that would shake the very heavens!

This platform, adrift within the nothingness of the Immortal Astral realm, was a place trod by few. Most perished or were forever lost in its ethereal embrace. Moreover, its position was ever shifting, an elusive wanderer in the void. Only the primal instincts, awakened after countless transformations within the Mosquito Beast, even held a faint glimmer of its location. Without such a guide, eons of searching would prove fruitless.

These two conditions alone posed insurmountable obstacles, overcome by a scant few. And yet, the platform itself presented a further challenge: a resolute barrier against all that did not originate from the laws of Immortal Astral. A chasm of impossibility that seemed destined to remain uncrossed.

Unless, like the Mosquito King, one cast aside all thought of self-preservation, embracing oblivion in the desperate act of delivering the vital essence. To inspire such devotion in a creature that rarely pledged loyalty was itself a miracle!

But even this was not the final trial. The last condition demanded a corpse, lost in the void, either slumbering or truly departed, yet radiating a spectral white light. This light, in truth, was a fragment of the Immortal Astral laws, manifesting only in the rarest of souls upon their passing.

The specific circumstances remained shrouded in mystery.

Only when all these conditions were met could one achieve what Wang Lin now faced: the blood falling upon the curved platform. The moment it touched the surface, the platform absorbed it, shuddering violently. Invisible ripples spread outward, engulfing the ethereal realm, and from the farthest reaches of the void, strands of pure white essence streaked towards the platform.

The platform thrummed with increasing power, and the Mosquito King, invigorated, soared outward, standing guard over the slumbering Wang Lin.

The resonating grew in intensity. The platform stirred, softened, its edges rising, closing inwards as if a giant hand clenching into a fist. It hardened into a colossal shell, now completely empty!

Within that chrysalis, a miasma of blood-red energy swirled, infused with the gathered white essence, pulsing with life. Slowly, agonizingly, it coalesced into a humanoid form, a spectral echo of Wang Lin himself!

As the nascent form solidified, becoming more distinct, the dormant Wang Lin, who had laid senseless for decades, stirred and opened his eyes. He felt a surge of power, a resonance from beyond the veil, coursing through his blood, invigorating his very being. The power of the Dao Ancient within him surged anew.

He sensed, with growing clarity, another version of himself, a separate existence woven into the fabric of reality. As he fully awakened, the Mosquito King’s joyous cries echoed in his ears.

He beheld the Mosquito King, its form trembling with elation, and beside him, the gigantic, fruit-like shell. And within, he glimpsed another, ethereal version of himself!

“What… is this?” Wang Lin murmured, his mind reeling with confusion.