“You!” Yan Luan’s pupils constricted, for the visage of Wang Lin was now a terror to behold. His form was withered, utterly devoid of color, appearing as though a blade drawn across his skin would yield no blood at all.

His hair, too, was brittle, threatening to fall away with the slightest touch. Within that emaciated frame, no moisture remained, and were it not for the fierce spirit that still burned within, he would have been mistaken for a corpse.

The loose white robes that draped him hung like a shroud, and a dreadful aura emanated from Wang Lin, driving Yan Luan several paces back in alarm.

Even Fan Shanmeng, locked in combat with the puppet Yi Si, gasped and retreated, her eyes widening with horror as she took in Wang Lin’s form.

“What manner of sorcery is this? How could he reduce himself to such a state?”

Her whispered question echoed as Yi Si, now a cloud of black mist with cruel, red eyes and a lolling, twisted tongue, returned to Wang Lin’s side. The fiend’s presence served only to amplify the impression that Wang Lin was a demonic entity incarnate!

“Yan Luan,” Wang Lin’s voice, a rasping whisper from a dry husk, rasped, “I secluded myself. To what do I owe this intrusion?” His eyes, lifeless and still, turned slowly, their gaze fixed upon Yan Luan. Even this simple movement held a terrifying presence, causing the Elder to stumble back once more.

“Elder Wang, I intended no disturbance. But Fan Shanmeng was attacked by this… peculiar construct. I merely sought to intervene.”

“The woman is my attendant, and requires no such assistance,” Wang Lin replied, a cruel smile twisting his withered lips. Fan Shanmeng trembled, retreating to the side of her master. “That matter can wait. Elder Yan Luan, I have a question for you.” Wang Lin shifted his dreadful gaze from Fan Shanmeng back to Yan Luan.

“What is it you wish to know, Elder Wang?” Yan Luan’s voice betrayed a hint of fear, for in her heart, she already held Wang Lin in dread.

“This Tianniu Continent is unfamiliar to me. Do you know of any place where a vast quantity of…water…can be found? Perhaps a great sea?” Wang Lin’s voice was like the grinding of bones, each syllable a chilling echo.

“Water…he is not merely practicing some art, but absorbing the essence of water itself!” Yan Luan realized, her eyes narrowing. She drew a deep breath and considered for a moment before speaking softly, “Between the borders of Tianniu and the Green Devil Continent lies an endless inland sea, some nine months’ journey from here…”

“The way,” Wang Lin demanded, his eyes gleaming with a chilling light.

Yan Luan did not hesitate. With a flick of her wrist, a jade slip materialized in her hand. She infused it with her spirit, inscribing a map to the inland sea. With a final flick, she sent the jade slip streaking towards Wang Lin, who caught it. After a moment’s contemplation, he nodded curtly to Yan Luan.

“Elder Yan Luan, I thank you.” With a sweep of his sleeve, Wang Lin vanished into a mist and fled towards the horizon, not sparing Fan Shanmeng a single glance.

*Roar!*

The puppet Yi Si followed swiftly behind, melding with the mist that formed Wang Lin and disappearing. At the same time, Wang Lin’s fire avatar, who had been guarding the cave, lifted his head and chased after Wang Lin at an unimaginable speed.

Only when Wang Lin was truly gone did Fan Shanmeng dare to breathe freely. The horror emanating from him was almost unbearable.

Yan Luan remained standing for a long time, sighing softly, she had not altered the information she gave Wang Lin and told him the truth. She left, and headed for her own mountain.

As for Wang Lin, after he left the Great Soul Sect, he used the technique of shrinking the ground and disappeared.

Far from the Great Soul Sect, in a rare grassland of Tianniu Continent, Wang Lin appeared. He lowered his head to look at the earth below. The grassland was endless, and there were many caves in the ground, obviously inhabited by many rogue cultivators.

So many loose cultivators chose this place because the grass here was filled with immortal energy, although it was not as good as some mountains.

“Jitian grassland… According to the map in Yan Luan’s jade slip, after arriving at this Jitian grassland, there will be six months before you can go to the inland sea connected to the Green Devil Continent…” Wang Lin mused, then vanished.

Wang Lin used the ability to shrink the earth, but even with his avatar. It was hard to continuously use it, only for short distances like when he was testing the ability after leaving the mountain. To teleport such a long distance, he had to do it in intervals.

As he was flying, he raised his right hand, and there was a roar from his wrist. The totem on his wrist flew out and transformed into the Mosquito King, who leaped forward with a roar, carrying Wang Lin at great speed.

Wang Lin sat down on the mosquito and closed his eyes. Although he was currently at the peak of his cultivation and his spiritual consciousness was strong, the state of his body was still a hidden danger. He had to absorb a lot of water as soon as possible to complete the ninth cycle.

As the mosquito beast traveled, it caused many spiritual consciousnesses in the grassland to look over. Many of them quickly retracted after seeing Wang Lin and the mosquito beast.

However, there were also some spiritual consciousnesses that followed Wang Lin, as if they had some other ideas.

The grassland was endless. In three days, Wang Lin’s mosquito beast flew far away, and most of the spiritual consciousnesses behind him disappeared, but there were still three that followed him closely.
Three ethereal presences trailed him, two steeped in the mid-stage of Void Profoundity, the last a mere echo of Void Spiritual Late. Their vigilance had deterred the curious eyes of others, allowing Wang Lin to traverse the land unmolested.

Seven days hence, as the borders of the Jade Sky Plains shimmered into view, Wang Lin felt the stirrings of his Spatial Shrink ability, ready for another grand translocation. The three pursuers were but gnats in his sight. He rose from the back of his mosquito beast, prepared to move on.

A voice, laced with cold menace, echoed from behind.

“Daoist of the dark arts, art thou so eager to depart the Jade Sky Plains?”

“Cease your idle chatter! We’ve tracked him thus far to discern if he merely passes through or seeks solace amongst brethren. He is but a wayfarer. Seize his beast, and I shall grant him life!” This second voice boomed with arrogant decree, brooking no dissent. Refusal meant only oblivion.

As the words hung in the air, the very fabric of the heavens twisted. A gargantuan hand of obsidian plunged from the clouds, claws extended, aimed to ensnare Wang Lin. The wind howled, a symphony of destruction as the hand descended, radiating immense power.

Wang Lin turned, regret etched upon his face. He sought no conflict, but confrontation was unavoidable. His eyes flashed with an eerie light, and his withered right hand shot skyward, tearing at the air itself.

A chasm of unimaginable size erupted, threatening to swallow all, cleaving the world asunder. It hurtled towards the descending hand.

The sky roared as Wang Lin unleashed his power. A colossal phantom right arm materialized behind him, mirroring his movement, and rent the heavens themselves!

The earth-shattering collision pulverized the black hand. The three pursuers, their forms revealed, were hurled back, their faces etched with terror at the raw, untamed power they had witnessed.

“He is no mere Void Spiritual!”

“Such raw physical strength… This man rivals the Body Refiners of the Sovereign Realms!”

Their countenances shifted from arrogance to dread. As the shockwave propelled them backwards, they broke ranks, fleeing in separate directions.

Wang Lin remained unmoved. Once provoked, he knew no half measures. His eyes gleamed as he raised his right hand, unleashing a guttural roar. His puppet, the embodiment of cold steel and dark artifice, materialized, its eyes burning with cruel anticipation. It lunged at the nearest fleeing figure.

The puppet overtook its prey in an instant, shrouding him in a miasma of black mist. A piercing scream tore through the air, before fading into silence.

The Mosquito King, sensing its master’s will, unleashed a deafening shriek and surged forward, its gargantuan maw closing on the Void Spiritual Late cultivator. Even before the man could muster a defense, the Mosquito King’s proboscis pierced his flesh. As the Mosquito King began to drain the cultivator’s life force, Wang Lin extended a finger, pointing with casual disregard.

The cultivator froze, trapped in a stasis of impending doom. His eyes widened as he watched death draw near.

Wang Lin, meanwhile, detached himself from the Mosquito King and focused his gaze upon the third fleeing figure. Behind him, his Primal Avatar transformed into a sea of roaring flame, engulfing the sky, a monstrous maw of pure fire poised to devour its prey.

It was a sight of breathtaking horror. The fiery maw, a gateway to inferno, lunged, engulfing the fleeing cultivator in a heartbeat. At the moment of consumption, the cultivator’s body erupted in verdant light, a desperate attempt to ward off the consuming flames.

“Master, save me!” he cried out.

The earth trembled in response, and a deep, resonant voice thundered from the ground below.

“Hold!”