The snow fell in a relentless curtain, and the wind howled a mournful song, as twilight descended upon this mortal city. Wang Lin found himself walking its snow-laden streets, drawn here by an unknown impulse that stirred within him when he first sensed its presence from afar.

“Perhaps,” he mused, his boots crunching on the frozen ground, “I seek a taste of the mundane…” Flakes of snow kissed his face, a chilling reminder of the season’s bite.

From one gate to the other he walked, traversing the entire city, his footprints in the snow quickly swallowed by the swirling white veil, erased as if he were never there.

At the far gate, Wang Lin turned back to gaze upon the city behind him. He had witnessed the simple scenes of mortal life, the countless lamps igniting in the twilight snow, painting a warm and inviting tableau.

Yet, the warmth eluded him. Like his fleeting footprints, he felt detached, alien, as though he no longer belonged to this world.

A novel sensation, a subtle shift within him, took root. He realized, with a growing unease, that with each step of his cultivation, the last threads binding him to the mortal realm were being severed.

He knew the three trials of mortality were the key, the final tests before a complete severance. After these trials, he would be cut adrift from the mortal coil. This was a change of heart, a transformation of the soul. He still desired to rest within these earthly cities, to witness the fleeting lives of mortals, but he could no longer truly immerse himself within them.

“Is it my heart that is restless?” Wang Lin murmured, gazing up at the falling snow as night consumed the twilight. Alone, he stood by the city gate, lost in thought.

“My source has blossomed into eight, but one remains elusive. Only with the ninth can I ascend to the Sky Profound Realm, and from there, face the nine mystical tribulations. Perhaps my heart is indeed restless, but the day will come when I can once again find peace within these mortal cities, quietly contemplating the heavens…”

Wang Lin arrived, yet he departed with a gnawing sense of loss. Something precious had slipped through his fingers, and he could not grasp it again.

“This is the price… the price of power…” Wang Lin whispered, and with measured steps, he passed through the closed gates, venturing into the howling wind and swirling snow, heading into the unknown.

Behind him, the city lights flickered, offering a warmth that he yearned for, but could no longer touch.

The wind howled, weaving a mournful melody through the falling snow, a lament that echoed in the silence, accompanying Wang Lin’s solitary figure into the vast, unforgiving night.

Months later, the shattered remains of his Sea of Qi had become a desolate basin, a barren wasteland devoid of life, filled only with desolation and death.

Wang Lin stood suspended in the air above this wasteland, his second visit to this forsaken place. Yet, this time, a sense of finality hung heavy in his heart.

He walked across the desolate basin, his divine sense probing the air. As he drew closer to the Green Devil Continent, he grew more cautious. Another month passed, and as Wang Lin finally crossed the boundary and stepped onto the Green Devil Continent, a palpable aura of darkness washed over him.

This aura pulsed with cruelty, bloodlust, and a palpable sense of evil. Both mortal and beast, and even the cultivators born on this blighted land, were tainted with its demonic influence.

Unlike the Celestial Bull Continent, the Green Devil Continent was a land of endless swamplands, a landscape steeped in dark legend, inspiring dread in all who dared traverse its treacherous bogs.

Wang Lin found the Green Devil Continent utterly distasteful.

Few powerful cultivators walked its lands, and most were weaklings that posed little threat to Wang Lin. He proceeded with deliberate caution, employing the power of shrinking the earth to traverse the desolate landscape.

He could sense a powerful, hidden force emanating from the heart of the Green Devil Continent, an immense energy steeped in demonic power. According to the map etched upon the turtle shell, this power originated from the Green Devil Scorpion Temple.

On the Celestial Bull Continent, no such temple existed without the explicit decree of the Celestial Emperor.

The demonic influence was potent, capable of twisting the mind. Wang Lin steered clear, detouring towards the edge of the Green Devil Continent, towards the border shared with the Meng-Tu Continent.

Time slipped by, and months turned into seasons. Wang Lin encountered a few cultivators, but none could halt his progress. One day, Wang Lin reached the border of the Green Devil Continent.

The boundary leading to Meng-Tu Continent was marked by a tall mountain range, so high it seemed to pierce the heavens. To cross these mountains was to enter Meng-Tu.

Standing at the foot of these towering peaks, Wang Lin maintained a serene countenance. He sensed two immense streams of Demonic Qi coalescing into the forms of two massive scorpions that coiled amongst the peaks.

Two Green Devil Emissaries!

Behind them, at the very summit of the range, a surge of astonishing sword energy erupted as Wang Lin approached, transforming into an ancient sword-shaped phantom that hung in the sky, piercing the heavens like the mountain’s peak.

After all this time, Wang Lin had finally encountered Green Devil Continent cultivators worthy of challenging him. And he recognized a familiar resonance within that sword energy.

This confirmed Wang Lin’s wisdom in choosing to leave via the Green Devil Continent, for had he chosen another path, he would surely have faced even greater obstacles.

“Three, you say? You overestimate yourselves.” Wang Lin spoke with composure, approaching the mountain. At his first step, the two demonic energies arose. From afar, they seemed two massive green scorpions hurtling down from the mountain, converging on him with ferocious speed.
From the mountain’s crown, the ancient sword-phantom unleashed a heaven-rending shriek, a blade of pure energy that cleaved through the very air. It followed hard upon the heels of the twin streams of demonic miasma, descending upon Wang Lin with the force of creation itself!

The world thrummed, as if reality itself recoiled before the blade’s incandescent power. All other light seemed to fade, leaving only this searing comet of energy hurtling down like the singular illumination in a void.

A flash of cold fury ignited in Wang Lin’s eyes. Upon the right side of his face, the celestial bull totem blazed into life. In a heartbeat, it dissolved into countless threads of obsidian, weaving themselves across his flesh and bone. Thus was formed the Celestial Bull Soul-Armor, encasing him completely, save for the wild cascade of his white hair and the glacial glint within the armor’s shadowed depths.

The instant the Soul-Armor embraced him, Wang Lin’s power surged, reaching the very precipice of the Void Tribulant Initial Stage. He stepped forward, his speed a blinding blur as he closed upon the first tendril of demonic energy, the emerald scorpion-form inhabited by the Green Demon Envoy.

Yet, before Wang Lin could strike, a chilling madness twisted the Envoy’s face. Abandoning all pretense of combat, he formed a desperate hand seal, pressing his palms against his brow.

A terrifying pulse erupted from within his very being, a raw and uncontrollable force. This Envoy, a master of the Void Tribulant Mid-Stage, had chosen self-destruction!

A complete, unhesitating detonation!

The raw power of a Void Tribulant Mid-Stage’s demise could shake the foundations of the Green Demon Continent itself, unleashing a cataclysmic torrent capable of giving even a Void Tribulant Late-Stage cultivator pause.

Without reason, without warning, the Green Demon Envoy exploded. And in that very instant, the Envoy behind him echoed the terrible act, embracing oblivion in a surge of green energy.

Two Void Tribulant Mid-Stage cultivators, sacrificing themselves in unison! Such devastation could force even a Void Tribulant Late-Stage expert to retreat!

As the Envoys dissolved into roiling chaos, Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. A profound unease gripped him, a premonition that stretched far beyond the immediate threat of the explosions. Why would they choose such a path?

To detonate before a single blow was struck defied all logic. These two, along with the unseen hand that had conjured the earth-shattering sword-strike, possessed the strength to challenge him directly! Why choose self-destruction?

Abnormality breeds suspicion!

To sacrifice two Green Demon Envoys of such power hinted at an ambition of colossal scale. The Green Demon Continent sought more than mere victory; they sought to imprison him here.

Amid the deafening thunder of the explosions, Wang Lin’s hand shot out, seizing the earth-crafted armor that had materialized before him. He wore it like a shield, a glimmer of ochre light surrounding him completely.

Then, drawing upon every reserve of power he possessed, he unleashed the full, untamed strength of his Dao Ancient lineage. The raw aura of the ancient bloodline exploded outwards, and a colossal phantom, vast enough to touch the heavens, manifested behind him!

For leagues around, all could see the titanic figure, a wave of ancient power rolling outwards.

With a howl that shook the very heavens, the Dao Ancient phantom enveloped Wang Lin, shielding him from the coming storm.

The first Envoy’s self-destruction slammed against the phantom, and the colossal figure shuddered, cracks appearing in its form. Then, like a hammer blow from the gods, the second Envoy’s demise slammed home.

The world itself seemed to scream in agony. Wang Lin’s Dao Ancient phantom, bolstered by the strength he could now wield as a Void Tribulant Initial-Stage cultivator, shattered.

The two explosions sent shards of pure annihilation careening towards him, impacting upon the earthen armor that was his first line of defense.