Wang Lin’s earlier actions, though seemingly grand, were in truth executed with a swiftness and precision belying his cultivation. He strode forth, each step devouring hundreds of leagues, towards the Daomozong’s arcane mist barrier. Reaching its shimmering edge, he did not hesitate but plunged directly into the swirling depths.

The moment his form pierced the veil, the mists erupted in a deafening cacophony, a thunderous roar that reverberated across the land and echoed within the Daomozong’s hallowed halls.

Within the sect, three myriad disciples, most deep in meditative slumber, were jolted awake by the cataclysmic sound. Alarmed, they abandoned their retreats, emerging to gaze with mounting dread upon the heavens.

There, above, the mist-shrouded sky churned and writhed, within its depths spectral phantasms began to coalesce. Eighteen colossal wraiths, born of the barrier’s magic, encircled a lone figure, their ethereal forms lunging in a frenzy of attacks, their banshee cries tearing through the air.

“Intruder! All Grand Elders, to your battle stations!” A frantic, guttural command thundered from the northern peaks of the Daomozong. Swiftly, a crimson cloud descended, revealing a middle-aged man cloaked in robes the color of spilled blood.

With a flick of his crimson sleeve, the cloud surged forward, a roaring tide of scarlet energy aimed to reinforce the beleaguered mist barrier.

In answer to his desperate plea, a score of iridescent comets streaked from the Daomozong’s depths, each carrying a Third Step Elder, the mightiest warriors remaining within the sect.

Male and female, they wore expressions of grim determination, their eyes hardened with resolve. As they arrived, they merged with the chaotic mists, anchoring themselves to the barrier, intent on preventing the intruder from breaching its defenses.

From the western reaches of the Daomozong, a golden ray pierced the sky, landing beside the crimson-robed man. It resolved into an aged figure, his face etched with bitterness, his eyes glinting with a predatory light as he surveyed the turmoil above.

“To dare assault the warding array of the Daomozong… I shall see who possesses such audacity!” He roared, and with a blur of motion, lunged into the mist-wreathed heavens.

Deep within the maelstrom, Wang Lin, his form concealed beneath a billowing white robe, walked deliberately onward. Before him, the eighteen wraiths, born of the mist, hurled themselves forward, their ghostly forms crackling with raw power.

As the ethereal monstrosities closed in, the face concealed by the robe stirred. A chilling glint ignited in his eyes, and his right hand rose, slashing outwards with violent intent.

“Tear the Heavens!” He declared, his voice calm but resonating with an ancient power.

At his words, and in the wake of his gesture, the sky above the Daomozong, once serenely empty, split asunder with an earsplitting detonation.

A colossal rift tore open in the firmament, and from within its abyssal depths, two gargantuan arms emerged. They were vast beyond comprehension, each member larger than towering mountains, and descending from the heavens like the limbs of a forgotten god. With terrifying speed, they grasped the struggling mist barrier encompassing the Daomozong.

The formless mist, suddenly imbued with solidity, was gripped in a crushing hold.

In that instant, the titanic hands tore outwards with savage force!

The very fabric of reality seemed to shudder as a deafening thunderclap echoed across existence. The mist, the Daomozong’s protective embrace, was rent asunder, ripped in twain with primal ferocity.

As the sound of its sundering reached its terrible crescendo, the gargantuan hands flung the remnants of the barrier violently to either side, bathing the Daomozong in shards of unfiltered sunlight.

Three myriad disciples of the Daomozong gazed upon this horrifying spectacle, their eyes widened in disbelief, their minds teetering on the precipice of madness.

Throughout the ages, the Daomozong’s protective array had been tested, even breached on several occasions. Yet never before had it been undone with such awe-inspiring, bone-chilling power.

As the colossal hands tore asunder the mystical defense, a chorus of agonizing cries echoed from within the fragmented mist.

The scores of Daomozong Elders, who had merged with the barrier, were ejected violently, their bodies battered and broken. Some spewed forth crimson ichor, their faces contorted in agony, others were torn asunder, their flesh disintegrating into showers of gore, victims of the raw power unleashed by the celestial rending.

Even the gold-robed elder, who had charged into the barrier with such confidence, was thrown back into the light, his face pale with horror, his eyes wide with unconcealed terror.

He knew the true strength of the warding array. It could withstand the full might of a Golden Core Grandmaster. Yet, it had been annihilated with such effortless ease. The implications of this devastating destruction sent shivers down his spine.

“What… what is his cultivation?!”

Bathed in the blinding light of the unfiltered sun, a lone figure stood silhouetted against the heavens, his white robes whipping in the storm of magic. A chilling light flickered within his eyes as he gazed down upon the Daomozong and the ocean of stunned faces gazing back in terror.

“Who are you!” The gold-robed elder roared, desperately trying to mask the tremor in his voice, “Why do you invade the Daomozong and destroy our warding array?”

“The Daomozong is one of the Nine Sects and Thirteen Schools of the Eastern Prefecture! We are protected by an Immortal Ancestor! Reveal yourself, wretch, and declare your grievance against the Daomozong!” Beside the gold-robed elder, the crimson-robed man’s face betrayed his fear. His own cultivation had reached the late stage of the Void Tribulation Realm, yet he knew he could never have broken through the barrier, much less destroyed it in such a cataclysmic fashion.

If these two felt terror, the other Elders who had barely escaped with their lives were near catatonic with dread. They could only stare in wide-eyed horror at the figure in the sky.

The remaining three myriad cultivators of the Daomozong stood as if petrified, their breaths caught in their throats, their bodies trembling uncontrollably, fear consuming their souls.

“Have you forgotten me?” Wang Lin spoke, his gaze sweeping over the assembled multitude, before settling on the distant isle resting in the heart of the sapphire lake. “But Wang remembers you well…”

With deliberate slowness, his right hand rose, drawing back the hood concealing his face. A mane of stark white hair cascaded into the sunlight, framing a countenance of icy composure. His eyes fixed upon the disciples below.

“Barely a century has passed. Surely you still remember the slaughter at the borders of Meng Tu Continent. Do you recognize Wang now?”

The instant the hood fell back, the gold-robed elder’s eyes widened, his face frozen in utter disbelief.

“Wang Lin!” He recognized him instantly, could never forget the devastating carnage that had taken place on the borders of Meng Tu Continent. In that bloody conflict, the Daomozong had committed a vast number of cultivators, only to have them butchered by this man alone. Only the intervention of the sect leader had prevented their total annihilation!

“It’s you!” The crimson-robed man gasped, his own face paling as recognition dawned. He too had witnessed the battle, had seen Wang Lin’s maddened fury, the horrific deaths of countless fellow disciples, and the sheer, terrifying intensity in Wang Lin’s eyes.

“Wang Lin! It is he!”

“Wasn’t he captured by the sect leader over a century ago and sent to the Scorpion Temple?!”

“He’s alive! It’s him! The slaughter on the border of Meng Tu Continent was so great that blood flowed like rivers! The sect leader himself was forced to intervene to capture him!” It was not only the two Void Tribulation Realm cultivators who recognized him. Many of the surviving Elders also remembered. All who did were the veterans of that fateful battle.

“I swore an oath on that day…” Wang Lin’s eyes hardened, the rage of a lifetime burning within them. Slowly, he raised his right hand, a searing pain lancing through his palm. An aura of pure, malevolent yin energy began to coalesce.

“That if ever I should escape…”

“I would make the Daomozong…” As the yin energy swirled, the tip of a bone-white blade emerged slowly from the flesh of his palm.

“Cease to exist upon the Immortal Astral Continent! Its legacy erased, its disciples slain, its name forgotten!” Wang Lin roared, his voice echoing with implacable hatred. The bone blade had grown with alarming speed, becoming more than ten feet in length. It continued to extend, a grotesque parody of a celestial weapon. Illuminated by the sunlight, it emitted a chilling, skeletal radiance, and a wave of oppressive yin energy emanated from Wang Lin’s body, engulfing the heavens.

As the bone blade reached a length of nearly thirty feet, Wang Lin moved, becoming a blur, descending from the heavens like a vengeful god. He needed no profound magic, only this blade to carry out his bloody retribution!

With this, he would rebuild his tower of skulls!

The gold-robed elder’s face contorted in terror. He sensed a terrifying presence within Wang Lin, a primal force that sent shivers down his spine. He could not retreat. As a Grand Elder of the Daomozong, his duty was clear.

With a primal roar, he and the crimson-robed man beside him launched themselves towards the descending figure, a desperate attempt to stem the tide of destruction.

With Wang Lin’s current cultivation, he needed no armored soul to threaten Late Stage Void Tribulation Realm cultivators. As the two elders approached, Wang Lin swung the massive bone blade in a devastating arc!

“Slay!” The word erupted from his throat with terrifying force!

“Slay!” Behind him, the Five Elements True Body materialized, raising its own bone blade, echoing Wang’s murderous intent.

“Slay!” Following the Five Elements True Body, the Thunder True Body appeared, crackling with lightning, lifting its own bone blade, adding its voice to the murderous chorus!

Three cries of carnage merged into a single, earth-shattering sonic wave, eclipsing all other sound, shaking the very foundations of the Daomozong, and drawing the eyes of all upon the three figures plummeting towards the earth.