## The Twelfth Scroll, Immortal Gang: Tenth Sun, Second Bell

The watch was a monotonous affair, yet Wang Lin had grown accustomed to its tedium. He had grown accustomed to walking this realm alone, to becoming one with the darkness, lurking in the shadows, silently observing the boundless expanse before him where faint glimmers of light dared to pierce the gloom.

Those glimmers were veiled by storm clouds, yet not entirely extinguished. Emerging from the obscurity, they beckoned like guiding stars, and Wang Lin followed their call with measured steps.

Still the night held sway, the tempestuous clouds thickening, soon to be punctuated by the muffled growls of thunder. Before long, a fierce gale descended, bringing with it a symphony of rustling and whipping sounds from all directions.

It was raining.

The instant the deluge broke, Wang Lin’s foot faltered. He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the rain-drenched world, his right hand moving with practiced ease. The Restriction Compass materialized, its surface aglow with the unmistakable sign: ahead, more than a dozen emerald specks advanced with alarming speed.

His eyes narrowed. In a swift, decisive movement, Wang Lin retreated, his speed unmatched, covering thousands of yards in the blink of an eye. He shifted his course, finding a new vantage point where he paused, his gaze fixed on the compass, his thoughts a whirlwind.

Almost as if sensing his alteration of course, the emerald specks echoed his maneuver, their relentless pursuit continuing unabated.

Simultaneously, on the compass, similar gatherings of verdant lights, each a force of a dozen strong, materialized from three other directions, forming an encircling net of pursuers.

“This is Lü Wenran’s intent.” From the moment he left the earth palace, Wang Lin had understood that this was all part of Lü Wenran’s scheme. The man suspected him, and thus sent him out on patrol, hoping to bait the Green Demon Continent’s warriors.

Wang Lin could have chosen to remain hidden, but such a course was not in his nature. Sometimes, retreat was merely a prelude to a greater advance.

“Were I Lü Wenran, I would have already sealed all entry points into the earth palace!” Wang Lin stamped his foot upon the soil. A surge of resistance erupted, preventing him from merging with the earth and returning to the sanctuary.

A cold smile played on his lips. He studied the nearly one hundred green dots converging on his position, a glint of deadly intent in his eyes.

These individuals came to extinguish Wang Lin’s life, but they were ignorant of the truth: that Wang Lin’s decision to venture forth was born from a desire to swiftly complete the three tasks entrusted to him by the ancient Qingniu ancestor.

“Two of the four vectors are led by mid-Void Tribulation cultivators… the other two, by early-Void Tribulation… After losing Liu Zhiyuan, the Green Demon Continent still holds six… five have now mobilized. They must know I possess the Restriction Compass and suspect I killed Liu Zhiyuan!” With a ripple of movement, Wang Lin shifted to his right, causing the ground beneath his feet to spiral into a vortex, and vanished without a trace.

Across the Four Extremes Grassland, groups of cultivators sped through the driving rain, each cadre numbering over a dozen. Among them were the elder Zhang and elder Zhao, the two mid-Void Tribulation masters, their faces etched with grim determination.

The other two groups were led by a man and a woman, both in the early stages of Void Tribulation, guiding their followers with an unseen force, their destination, the elusive Wang Lin.

At the same moment, far away, the last of the early-Void Tribulation women sat cross-legged amidst thousands of Green Demon Continent cultivators. Before her floated a spectral compass, mirroring Wang Lin’s and offering a distant guide to her pursuing allies.

Thunder echoed through the heavens as the torrential rain became the stage for a murderous ballet.

Xu Decai, a wandering cultivator from the Green Demon Continent, had reached the pinnacle of his ability, a status of early-Void Tribulation. He could climb no further without extraordinary fortune.

Invited by the Dao Demon Sect to participate in the invasion of the Celestial Bull Continent, and enticed by promises of great reward, he joined the ranks of those shattering the Third Bloodline.

He led over a dozen cultivators, including three who had also transcended the third step, though none had surpassed the mid-Void Xuan stage. The remaining souls lingered within the Tribulation of Decline, all following Xu Decai as their leader, hurtling towards the objective.

Xu Decai moved with caution. The death of Liu Zhiyuan had shaken him to his core. The demise of a Void Tribulation cultivator was a rare and devastating occurrence, yet it had happened a mere two days prior.

Such an event stirred a tempest within him, demanding vigilance. Yet, mingled with his caution was a potent thrill.

This excitement stemmed from a promise made by elder Zhang of the Dao Demon Sect before their departure.

“The one who slays Wang Lin shall receive my favor! I will implore the Sect Master to allow them to cultivate within the Sky Pits for a millennium!” These words had ignited Xu Decai’s very soul.

Legends whispered of the Sky Pits, said to have been formed when the Demon Scorpion, before its sealing by the Ancestor, lost a fragment of its demonic core. The fragment shattered upon impact, creating five pits filled with potent demonic energy. Cultivating within them was rumored to bestow untold benefits.

For Xu Decai, whose cultivation had stagnated for years, this could be the opportunity he had long sought. Whether it would truly elevate his power or not, he had to try.

“Wang Lin, by ending your life, I can gain such a boon! Though we bear no personal grudge, you must die!” Xu Decai licked his lips, a chilling gleam in his eyes.

The instant his killing intent solidified, a prickle of unease ran down his spine. Almost as soon as he turned, a chorus of shrill screams erupted.

The ten cultivators behind him, those yet to transcend the third step, had their heads severed in a single, gruesome stroke. Blood sprayed, and their nascent souls were crushed.

Xu Decai glimpsed a figure in white emerging from the shadows, a blood-soaked sword in hand. With unnatural speed, the figure had swept the blade across the ranks, annihilating ten in a single, terrifying dance!

Having slaughtered a tenth of his troop, Wang Lin’s eyes remained impassive. He retreated, vanishing into the darkness.

Xu Decai’s pupils contracted, his face a mask of shock. Wang Lin’s speed was frightening. However, almost immediately, Xu Decai was consumed by excitement.

“Wang Lin!!” Without hesitation, Xu Decai retreated, his right hand rising to point towards the heavens.

Immediately, a vibrant, illusory flower bloomed in the rain-soaked sky. The flower was enormous, dominating half the sky, its petals crafted of countless skulls!

As the skull flower appeared, a cold light flickered within Wang Lin’s eyes. Now only five remained. The Void Tribulation cultivator and the four others posed little threat.

The four were obviously in shock, fear written on their faces as they retreated. But they were no match for Wang Lin’s speed. In a flash, the blood-soaked sword transformed into a crimson dragon, roaring forth and severing the bodies in its path.

With two more corpses added to the pile, Wang Lin felt the compass embedded within his body sending clear warnings of approaching cultivators from the other three vectors, especially the two mid-Void Tribulation elders.

The remaining early-Void Tribulation cultivator had also left the formation to strike him.

“A half-hour…” Wang Lin murmured, his gaze fixed on Xu Decai as he spread his arms, revealing the flower of skulls above. He did not need to worry about the approaching hunters, because Wang Lin would come to him.

Xu Decai smirked. He paid no mind to the deaths of the others. He had located Wang Lin and set off the signal, and now all that remained was to wait.

Xu Decai did not hesitate. The fingers on his right hand flashed through countless incantations, forming the image of a great lion in a matter of heartbeats. The phantom lion snarled with power, each blow echoing through the land.

Wang Lin had never seen such a display of spellcasting. Xu Decai’s prowess was a terrifying thing.

The lion howled, a mere breath from Wang Lin as he prepared to deliver another attack. In a series of deft motions, he formed and threw almost four million signs.

The ground shook as four gargantuan mud golems arose from the earth, their eyes burning with malice as they charged towards Wang Lin, a mere moment after Wang Lin had scattered the lingering specter of the summoned lion.

Even in his long lifetime, Wang Lin had never faced such a violent opponent.

“His spell casting is impossibly fast! How does he do it!?” Wang Lin thought in dread.

Xu Decai continued to retreat. In a burst of speed, he had carved another five million signs into the air.

With a final, reverent bow, the area was surrounded by thick mist, and from the mist emerged a being the size of a whale, ready to devour Wang Lin.