Within Wang Lin’s dimensional pouch, a multitude of artifacts clamored for release. Yet, the opportunity to draw forth but a single item without jeopardizing the pouch’s integrity presented itself but once. A glint sparked in Wang Lin’s eyes; his decision was made.

Of utmost utility to him at this juncture was a puppet, its cultivation bordering upon the nascent stage of Void Tribulant!

The Yi Si puppet, wrested from the deepest recesses of an ancient tomb, materialized within his mind’s eye. Without hesitation, devoid of all lingering doubts, he seized the spatial stone. His divine sense flooded into its depths, abruptly breaching the confines of his dimensional pouch.

The instant his pouch was breached, the spatial stone shuddered violently. A foreign dimension supplanted Wang Lin’s own, collapsing with a thunderous roar.

From the ruins of the breach, a torrent of murderous aura erupted, casting an eerie glow. And there, beside Wang Lin, stood a gaunt figure, limbs scraping the ground, a crimson tongue lolling hideously from its jaws.

It was the emaciated, ape-like Yi Si puppet!

A cacophony of hisses and bestial reek emanated from the Yi Si. Its eyes burned crimson, fixating upon Wang Lin, its master. Slowly, as if sifting through ancient memories, recognition flickered in its gaze, momentarily dimming the feral light.

“Yi Si, stand guard!” Wang Lin commanded, his voice echoing with icy authority as he regarded the monstrous, bloodthirsty specter.

A guttural roar answered him.

The Yi Si’s eyes flared once more, locking onto the entrance to the cave dwelling. Its long, bloody tongue snaked across the stone floor, a sight to chill the very soul. Any who dared trespass within this sanctuary would face the Yi Si’s unbridled fury.

Yet, Wang Lin remained wary. He glanced at the dark, ink-like sigil of the Mosquito King upon his arm. As he gazed upon it, a chilling light flickered within the beast’s eyes, as if acknowledging its master.

The Mosquito Beasts were Wang Lin’s final line of defense, prepared during his seclusion.

Only then did Wang Lin settle, cross-legged, within the cave, his gaze riveted upon a single water droplet held within his palm. Excitement coursed through him. He inhaled deeply and pressed the droplet into the center of his brow.

The instant it breached his skin, Wang Lin’s blood erupted in a boiling surge. The dormant essence of water residing within his being resonated, fusing with the newly introduced droplet, creating a cataclysmic confluence.

His body began to wither, at a pace alarming to the naked eye. It seemed as though every drop of moisture, every corpuscle of blood, coalesced within the droplet.

His frame shriveled, transforming him into a living skeleton, his hair brittle, his skin a tapestry of wrinkles—a grotesque caricature of a long-dead corpse.

Deep within his withering husk, the coalesced essence of water absorbed his lifeblood, radiating a brilliant light, hidden from the world.

The convergence and absorption of the water essence was a perilous process. The inherent presence of water within a cultivator’s body, even within their very blood, made the undertaking extraordinarily hazardous.

The instant the essence began to gather, the body was subjected to an inexorable drain, resulting in the macabre transformation into a desiccated husk.

Time slipped away. Seven days passed in silent vigil. Wang Lin sat unmoving, as if truly deceased. Yet, his aura, far from fading, steadily intensified. Were it not for this singular sign, any observer would surely believe him fallen victim to some terrible misfortune.

Two days later, Wang Lin’s withered body shuddered violently. His eyes snapped open, clouded and vacant, as if even the moisture within his orbs had been purged.

“Disperse… water essence…” a rasping voice croaked from his parched throat. His bone-like hands rose, forming a mystic seal. The instant the seal was complete, the droplet of water essence, seemingly brought to its limit, exploded within him. His body, wracked with tremors, experienced a surge of revitalization, akin to a fountain of youth.

The rejuvenation occurred at breakneck speed, reversing his withering form. Wang Lin was no longer a walking corpse, but a being of radiant skin, his very essence shimmering with an otherworldly light.

This state persisted for nine days. Within that span, the fused water droplet spun with increasing velocity, its size visibly shrinking with each passing moment.

It seemed these periods of nine days represented a cycle of condensation and release. The first cycle had come to pass, and a second began anew.

On the nineteenth day of his seclusion, Wang Lin’s body underwent another grotesque metamorphosis, rapidly shriveling, transforming once more into a dessicated corpse. The water droplet pulsed with frantic light.

The cycle continued, unyielding. Soon, Wang Lin’s body endured seven repetitions of withering and rejuvenation. After the seventh cycle, the water droplet had dwindled to a mere shadow of its former self, barely visible to the naked eye.

Months had passed. In his hermetic seclusion, Wang Lin remained oblivious to the affairs of the Great Soul Sect, utterly consumed by the absorption of the water essence. He understood that, should he succeed in bringing it to fruition, his cultivation would advance dramatically.

Furthermore, water essence was a type of “real” essence, an essence that, like the fire essence before it, posed the risk of a clash of wills, of assimilation and domination.

Wang Lin’s water essence was only partially formed, however, thus, during the fusion with the essence of the Immortal Astral Continent, the resistance would be minimal, within his capacity to endure.

Time crept onward. Another eighteen days passed. Wang Lin’s body had undergone eight cycles of withering and rejuvenation. After the eighth, the water droplet was almost gone, vanishing to the naked eye.

Throughout Wang Lin’s continuous seclusion, his original essence body meticulously guarded the cave from the outside, and within the cave, the Yi Si puppet stood sentinel, a bulwark against any intrusion.
The Bloodless Husk, long denied its crimson feast, raged within the cavern, a guttural growl echoing through the stone halls. Its baleful eyes, swirling with an ancient hunger, would dart towards Wang Lin, a flicker of malice dancing within their depths. Yet, a faint echo of obedience lingered in its tormented consciousness, a tether, however frayed, to its master. This primal connection, though weak, stayed its ravenous urges, preventing the crimson eruption it so desperately craved.

More than just a master, this new Wang Lin stirred something deeper within the Husk. A terrifying aura, subtle yet potent, emanated from the man, interwoven with his very soul. This unsettling presence served as Wang Lin’s silent ward, the true reason for summoning the beast. Though ferocious beyond imagining, the Husk was still bound, however tenuously, by Wang Lin’s will. As Wang Lin’s power grew, so too would his dominion over the monstrous puppet.

Moreover, a hidden whisper resided within Wang Lin’s spiritual essence, a fragment gleaned from his doppelganger. Though imperceptible to most, the Bloodless Husk felt it keenly, a source of both fear and reluctant servitude.

Meanwhile, upon the mountainside, Fan Shanmeng lingered, her gaze locked upon Wang Lin’s secluded sanctuary for months past. A dark purpose festered within her heart, drawing her from her own abode towards the mountain’s crown.

Halting a mere hundred paces from the peak, Fan Shanmeng stared upon the fiery manifestation of Wang Lin’s elemental self, a flicker of apprehension in her gaze. She did not seek to strike down Wang Lin while he slumbered, but rather to unravel the secrets that clung to him, fulfilling the dark mandate of her master: to slowly, meticulously, extinguish the life of Wang Lin.

Yet, the very moment she stilled her advance, the fiery avatar guarding the cavern’s mouth snapped open its eyes, and its gaze fell upon Fan Shanmeng. The scrutiny of this elemental guardian felt as though Wang Lin himself had pierced her soul. She recoiled, lowering her head, but as she moved to retreat, a shattering roar erupted from within the depths of the cavern. A billowing cloud of inky darkness surged forth, writhing and coiling as it filled the heavens. Within its depths, two malevolent eyes burned with an insatiable hunger, and from the shadowy mass a serpentine, crimson tongue lolled, twisting in obscene anticipation.

The Bloodless Husk, starved of carnage for months, had sensed the intruder’s presence and erupted from the cave in a frenzy. Its bloodlust surged at the sight of Fan Shanmeng, and with a soul-shattering shriek, it lunged towards her. Fan Shanmeng, a cultivator of no small power, a master of the Seventh Xuan Calamity, found her resolve faltering under the Husk’s predatory gaze. Coupled with her innate dread of Wang Lin, she did not hesitate to flee.

But her speed was no match for the monstrous puppet. The Husk howled as it relentlessly pursued her, and its grotesque tongue lashed out, ensnaring her even as the suffocating darkness swallowed her retreat.

Thunderous booms reverberated across the heavens. Those within the Great Soul Sect, bound by the Elder’s decree to avoid Wang Lin’s peak, sensed the disturbance and turned their apprehensive eyes towards the source of the commotion.

Yan Luan, deep in meditation, snapped open her eyes, a flicker of dread crossing her face. She had all but forgotten her assignment to Fan Shanmeng to subtly weaken Wang Lin. Now, driven by a desperate need to understand what transpired, she launched herself towards Wang Lin’s mountain peak.

Within the depths of his cavern, Wang Lin, locked in his ninth and final cycle of cultivation, sought the culmination of his water essence. Success would usher him to a new realm of power.

But as his body withered, becoming as brittle as ancient bone, the last vestiges of his water essence were utterly consumed, leaving him depleted. His eyes snapped open, gleaming with grim determination.

“The water essence is insufficient to complete the final cycle…” A crucial piece was missing! “I require a vast wellspring of water!” Wang Lin’s appearance was ghastly, his emaciated frame little more than a skeletal prison.

In the silence of the cavern, he raised his head, sensing the distant clamor and the approaching presence of Yan Luan.

“Husk, return!” As Yan Luan neared the swirling chaos of Fan Shanmeng and the Bloodless Husk, Wang Lin’s voice echoed from the depths of the cavern. In that same moment, his form shimmered into existence before the cavern’s entrance, standing between the warring factions.

His desiccated flesh and terrifying visage met Yan Luan’s gaze, eliciting a gasp of shocked horror.