A cataclysm befell the Azure Sea. Tens of thousands of cultivators perished, none more swiftly than Yun Kong’s Avatar. Too close to the nascent Immortal Pill, he was the first to shatter. His vaunted swordsmanship, for all its might, proved as fragile as parchment before the Pill’s unleashed power.

In that devastation, the Azure Sea vanished utterly. Of the Emerald Gloom Continent’s surviving cultivators, spared from oblivion only by chance, a colossal phantom materialized in the heavens above their heads. Its form was obscured, but as its vast sleeve swept forth, an endless expanse enveloped the remnants of the Emerald Gloom, drawing them within.

The phantom recoiled before the encroaching destruction, barely evading its full force before vanishing. Yet, in its departure, it was wounded.

Where the Azure Sea had been, now lay nothingness. The lands of the Celestial Ox Continent nearest the Sea crumbled, vast tracts torn asunder. A choking dust storm, born of the cataclysm, swept inwards, promising to darken the skies for ages to come.

Likewise, upon the Emerald Gloom, the earth boomed and splintered, hurled skyward to form a pallid shroud. The air grew thick with earth, mimicking the look of a vast, storm-cloud.

Fortunate it was that the Immortal Pill had detonated at the Sea’s heart. Had its power unraveled closer to the Celestial Ox, that realm might have faced utter ruin, a testament to the Pill’s otherworldly nature and veiled origins.

Three days passed before the tempestuous energies unleashed by the Pill began to wane. The edges of both continents remained veiled in dust.

Upon the Emerald Gloom, silence reigned, only to be broken by a renewed resolve. The three great sects, heedless of the prior devastation, united their strength. Led by their Elders, seventy thousand warriors once more set forth, towards the empty expanse of the Azure Sea, towards the opened gate, into the undefended lands of the Celestial Ox.

Among them strode Void Tribulation cultivators, unfettered by the mass of soldiery. Like brilliant shooting stars, they streaked ahead, the vanguard of the invasion, the first to spill blood in this new campaign.

Meanwhile, in the Celestial Ox Continent, amidst the shattered peaks bordering the void, the air hung thick with dust, the silence broken only by mournful winds, as if the lamentations of tormented spirits echoed through the ruined landscape.

Upon a broken mountain, half-collapsed, sat a white-haired youth: Wang Lin.

His face was pallid, for three days had been spent in grueling self-healing. Dark stains of dried blood marred the ground before him, testament to the severity of his wounds.

The Pill’s destructive force, though not unexpected, had still caught him in its wake despite his use of space-shrinking techniques.

The aftershocks had struck him, and in that instant, he felt his bones shatter, his flesh tear, his very spirit threatened. Only by fusing with the heavens and fleeing could he escape, only to collapse here, vomiting blood and desperately seeking to mend his ravaged form.

An ordinary cultivator would have faced destruction, or the necessity of abandoning his mortal shell. But Wang Lin possessed the body of an ancient Daogu. Thus, he was merely wounded, not broken.

As dusk fell on the third day, Wang Lin opened his eyes. He drew a breath, and winced at the acrid taste of dust. The sky, though it should have glowed with sunset, remained veiled in shadow.

“It was worth it!” he rasped. “Though I am wounded, though that accursed Yun Kong, even in death, vowed vengeance, betraying that he was but an avatar… that avatar is gone, utterly destroyed.”

“His true form will surely suffer… I wonder, how great is the wound he now bears?” A glimmer of warmth returned to Wang Lin’s pallid features. “And I have gained this!” He turned his hand, revealing a faint, ethereal glow. In his palm lay a compass.

It was ancient in appearance, yet the Azure Sea map that had once graced its surface was now gone. In its place was a map of the Celestial Ox Continent, blank and devoid of any light.

“These formations are potent. Were I to devour and merge them, my own mastery would surely increase… yet, it serves a greater purpose now.” It was this formation, now spread and amplified around him to lock out all intruders, that had allowed Wang Lin to dare rest and heal.

“I have recovered seven or eight tenths of my strength. It should suffice… Now that my Water Source has achieved its final form, I must return to the Great Soul Sect. I wonder if my jade slip has arrived.”

“It should not have, given the time. But the earth-shattering events of three days ago must surely have drawn attention.” Wang Lin mused, and as he rose, his gaze sharpened. With a gesture, a simple jade slip appeared in his grasp.

This unassuming item held a record of Wang Lin’s second journey into the Azure Sea: the deaths he wrought, the compass he seized, the three banners he shattered, the Immortal Pill he detonated, and the death of Yun Kong.

Wang Lin was no naive fool. Since joining the Great Soul Sect, he had learned that merit was the key to earning treasures, elixirs, and skills!

Merely telling of his deeds would be met with doubt. The surest path was to record everything in a jade slip, its truth plain for all to see!
After a moment of contemplation, Wang Lin carefully erased from the jade slip the memory of how he obtained the compass, leaving only the chronicle of events surrounding the Immortal Slaying Pill. This, he deemed, would be enough!

“With this, I can seek the Multi-layered Illusions of the Great Soul Sect’s ninth level from that Azure Ox Ancestor!” Wang Lin stowed away the jade slip and the compass. Dissolving the warding spell, he transformed into a streak of crimson and sped towards the depths of the Celestial Bull Continent.

The crimson streak howled through the heavens. After traversing ten thousand fathoms, a ripple of light emanated from beneath Wang Lin’s feet, and in an instant, he vanished, reappearing in the inner lands of the Celestial Bull Continent, far from the ravaged Dan Sea.

Without pause, he pressed forward.

Time slipped away, and half a month passed. Wang Lin was now within a considerable distance of the Great Soul Sect, at least in terms of the Art of Dimensional Contraction. To fly it would take months.

He was now deep within the heart of the Celestial Bull Continent. Verdant mountains stretched across the landscape, untouched by the Dan Sea’s destructive wave. The Celestial Bull Continent was vast, and the calamity had only affected a fragment of its total land.

In between bursts of Dimensional Contraction, Wang Lin would sit cross-legged upon his mosquito beast as it flew, a blur against the sky. He would either meld with the very fabric of the world or enter a meditative state to heal his wounds. After half a month, his injuries had mostly healed.

One day, during his travel, Wang Lin looked up, his gaze hardening as he spotted several faint lights in the distance. Within each glimmer, there was a black paper crane!

These paper cranes flew in all directions, their speed surpassing even Wang Lin’s. They vanished in a blink. However, one passed close enough to Wang Lin for him to cast a spell of Immobilization, freezing the crane a few dozen fathoms behind him. He swept it towards himself with a wave of his sleeve, and now held it in his palm.

He merged his Divine Sense with the paper crane, and a majestic voice boomed within his mind.

“The Green Devil Continent invades! They destroyed the Dan Sea, blasted open the Celestial Bull Continent’s defenses! Their army will arrive in a matter of days! The Great Soul Sect and the Returning-to-One Sect issue the Soul-One Decree! All sects are commanded to seal their mountains, and every combat-ready cultivator is to go to the Seven Celestial Bull Caverns, carved out in the age of Antiquity! Proceed without delay!”

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. He released the paper crane. With a flicker of ghostly light, it howled away and disappeared.

Lost in thought, Wang Lin gazed into the distance, his mind racing. After a long while, he frowned, halting the stream of thoughts. He stilled his mind, steadied his spirit, and urged his mosquito beast onward.

As Wang Lin journeyed back to the Great Soul Sect, twenty days after the issuing of the decree, several dozen Void Tribulant cultivators from the Green Devil Continent, acting as scouts, roared through the heavens, their task to bleed the Celestial Bull Continent of its Third Step cultivators by any means necessary.

The more they slew, the greater the Green Devil Continent’s chance of victory!

Behind them, about a month’s journey away, the Green Devil Continent’s army of seventy thousand, a horde of streaks connecting the heavens and the earth, slowly advanced.

Trailing behind the seventy thousand, a terrifying sword-image manifested, carrying a surge of sword-intent. It was a golden, ancient sword, and upon it sat a young man in green robes, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. He possessed a beauty that bordered on the demonic, and though his face was serene, his complexion was pale. He gazed at the distant Celestial Bull Continent, and a cruel glint appeared in his slender eyes.

“You destroyed my avatar, dropping my cultivation to the early stages of the Void Tribulant realm. I will repay this debt, slowly!”

The golden sword beneath him radiated an aura of immense power, and behind it, the faint image of a figure in golden armor manifested, a figure of immense size and bearing the weight of countless ages.

The sword was no ordinary blade!