With the composure of a seasoned puppeteer, Lu Wenran, Grand Elder of the Azure Sky Sect, spoke, his voice a serpent’s whisper in the hallowed hall.

“Though it ill befits my station,” he began, his gaze lingering upon the figure of Wang Lin, “the fate of the Soul Armor compels me to speak, even if it means casting shadows upon the truth!”

He knew that the final forging of the Soul Armor demanded the will of all present, a symphony of intention poured into the celestial bull spirit summoned with their combined cultivation and lifeblood. Only through their collective affirmation could he bind the armor to his very soul. Once joined, he would be unburdened, free from the whims of others.

“Elder Wang,” Lu Wenran’s voice dripped with feigned disappointment, “I am… stunned. How could one of your standing claim to have felled a Void Shatterer? To shrink from battle, to cower from risk, is a flaw forgivable, though many brave souls from the Third Cave have already ascended to become ancestral spirits!”

“They met their end with valor, each death a beacon of righteousness. Tianniu Continent will never forget them! Take this trophy, and retreat. I shall pretend this charade never transpired. But to mock us with such blatant falsehoods, to claim a glory that is not yours… I could strike you down without the Ancestor’s leave!”

“For such an act is not merely an insult to me, but a desecration of the memory of ten thousand fallen warriors, an affront to every cultivator here!” Lu Wenran’s voice resonated with manufactured outrage, his eyes boring into Wang Lin with unsettling intensity. He feigned a pained restraint, as though struggling against the weight of this betrayal.

His words, like a sudden squall, quelled the rising tide of excitement sparked by Wang Lin’s presentation of Liu Ziyuan’s head. The assembled cultivators, once buzzing with anticipation, fell silent, their faces etched with doubt.

A murmur rippled through the ranks. “Grand Elder Lu speaks with conviction. Surely this… imposter… could not possess such power!”

“Such brazen deceit is truly appalling!”

“Indeed! Lu Wenran is a man of unimpeachable integrity. If he witnessed another’s hand in this deed, then there can be no doubt!”

Yet, amidst the growing condemnation, whispers of dissent arose. “If Lu Wenran witnessed this, why did he remain silent until now?”

The Void Shatterers amongst them, their senses honed by years of relentless training, observed both Wang Lin and Lu Wenran with detached curiosity.

As Lu Wenran’s accusations washed over him, Wang Lin merely shook his head, a wry smile playing upon his lips. He remained unmoved, as if the accusations were nothing more than a distant breeze.

Lu Wenran, catching Wang Lin’s expression, felt a sudden chill pierce his heart. He had anticipated this challenge, yet a nagging doubt gnawed at his confidence. He was convinced that Wang Lin could not produce true proof, barring one thing…

*The man’s shattered soul…*

Lu Wenran banished the thought. He had not witnessed the kill, but the residual essence of Liu Ziyuan’s broken spirit echoed even now in the hall, proof that no fragment remained to bear witness.

“You accuse me of deception,” Wang Lin said, his voice now sharp, edged with steel. “Then gaze upon this!” With a flourish, he conjured a second head beside that of Liu Ziyuan.

It was the head of Xu Decai, the Green Devil Continent’s Void Shatterer, a grim trophy displaying terror and resentment. His lifeless eyes stared into the void, dried blood marking the path of his final screams.

The great hall fell silent, every eye riveted on this gruesome testament. Even the visiting Void Shatterers rose to their feet, their faces etched with shock.

“It is him!”

“Xu Decai! I have fought him before. His speed is unmatched. Few can stand against him!”

“I wondered why he did not appear in the second assault. Now, I know why… Elder Wang has slain him!”

The visiting Void Shatterers exchanged horrified glances, realizing the enormity of Wang Lin’s achievement.

Yan Chong was similarly affected, rising to her feet, her disbelief evident. She had considered Wang Lin’s first victory a fluke, but now, she was faced with the indisputable truth.

Xu Dongde, a shadow of his usual self, regarded Wang Lin with newfound trepidation. He had spoken in Wang Lin’s defense out of spite for Lu Wenran’s obvious manipulations, but now, he realized the correctness of his actions.

*If Wang Lin was not worthy, then none were worthy.*

As for the old cultivator, Zhou, his face was a mask of fear. He remembered dismissing Wang Lin’s skills and his past rudeness flooded back to him, bathing him in a cold sweat.

“This fiend! Two Void Shatterer heads… He could not have simply stumbled upon these bodies!”

The silence was shattered by a cacophony of voices, a wave of fear and awe washing over the assembled cultivators. Before them lay the severed heads of beings who were once revered, a visceral testament to Wang Lin’s terrifying power.

“You could claim,” Wang Lin continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “that I merely chanced upon a mysterious elder, who dispatched the first Green Devil Void Shatterer only moments before my arrival, allowing me to claim the head. Or perhaps the same mysterious elder appeared yet again while I patrolled, conveniently slaying the second Void Shatterer so that I could claim another trophy!” His eyes narrowed, fixed upon Lu Wenran, whose face now contorted with a mixture of disbelief and terror.

Lu Wenran’s mind reeled, battered by the sudden revelation. As he stared at the head of Xu Decai, icy dread gripped him. He had underestimated Wang Lin, who had now demonstrated a power that even he could not ignore.
The air crackled with unspoken accusations. “Especially this Xu Decai,” growled Lu Wenran, his voice tight with barely suppressed fury. “His name echoes even in the Green Demon Wastes. Even I, Lu Wenran, have heard tales of his terrifyingly swift spellcasting.” He spat the words like venom. He had recognized Xu Decai amongst the spectators during his duel with Zhang Daozong.

Now, facing Wang Lin, Lu Wenran’s features twisted in a mask of frustration. “I didn’t witness the ancient one’s power, but he wielded it once. He could strike again! As for that head in your possession… you merely benefited from fortunate happenstance. You…”

Wang Lin’s laughter cut him off, a sharp, mocking sound. With a sudden flourish, Wang Lin raised his left hand. In the center of his palm writhed a ghastly specter, its spectral form echoing a bloodcurdling shriek. The apparition was undeniably Xu Decai!

“Lu Wenran,” Wang Lin’s voice was a steel blade, his gaze piercing. “Behold, what is this?”

Lu Wenran blanched, his face draining of all color. He staggered back, his breath catching in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

The mere sight of Xu Decai’s spirit shattered all his carefully constructed arguments.

“Daoist Zhou,” Wang Lin snapped, his attention shifting to the elder with the air of quiet power. “How do we proceed with the armor’s fusion? Waste no more time.”

The old man, his heart hammering, nodded frantically. Lu Wenran was rendered speechless. Unless Lu Wenran dared to strike Wang Lin down outright, the tide had irrevocably turned.

“Esteemed cultivators,” Daoist Zhou announced, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness. “The final step in the Soul Armor’s bonding lies in the collective will summoned forth by your blood and mana. Whoever the majority of you choose in your hearts, upon that warrior shall the armor be bestowed!” The elder carefully avoided naming either contestant, wary of further inciting Lu Wenran.

Silence descended upon the assembly. Lu Wenran, his eyes burning with hatred, stared at Wang Lin, weighing the potential consequences. To surrender now was unbearable.

“The audacity of this imposter!” Lu Wenran snarled, his voice cracking with suppressed rage. “He steals glory and defiles the honor of our fallen! Such blasphemy demands death!” He bit back his fury, a decision solidifying within him. He would not allow Wang Lin to claim the armor, knowing that the animosity between them would only lead to his downfall.

“If he dies, he cannot challenge me for the Soul Armor. I will labor relentlessly on the battlefield and accept punishment from the sect upon my return! Surely the Ancestors will not condemn me to death for the sake of a corpse!” With a guttural roar, Lu Wenran exploded into motion, hurtling towards Wang Lin with blinding speed.

Wang Lin, anticipating such a move, reacted instantly. He surged backward, his right hand rising. Within him, the Speed God Mantra surged, unleashing its vortex and granting him preternatural casting speed.

Simultaneously, the Soul Armor behind Wang Lin emitted an ethereal glow. Inspired by Daoist Zhou’s pronouncement, the thousand warriors below openly manifested their desires, their will weighing on the scales between Wang Lin and Lu Wenran!

“Hear me, warriors of the Extreme Sky Steppe!” a wizened old man cried, his bright eyes scanning the ranks. “Elder Wang once saved my life! I urge you to choose him!” His words, amplified by his renown, resonated with those around him.

Yan Ziya, her jaw clenched tight, mirrored his will. She moved, moving to stand alongside Wang Lin, choosing to gamble against Lu Wenran.

Xu Dongde, after a moment of hesitation, followed suit. Having voiced his support earlier, he was undeterred to continue offending the pride of Lu Wenran.