“Lord of the Underworld,” Wang Lin spoke, his voice a silken thread of malice as they stood before the seventeenth hall. “Await my return. Should I emerge to find you gone, know that your departure shall haunt your path until the end of days.”

His words, steeped in venom, were a poisoned dart aimed at the very heart of the Lord of the Underworld. They painted a future where the lord’s failure within the hall would be compounded by the festering wound of his own self-preservation. Should he flee, the whisper of Wang Lin’s curse would cling to him, a shadow demon gnawing at his soul.

Yet, should he remain, hoping against hope for Wang Lin’s demise, the triumph of the latter would be a blow far more devastating, shattering the lord’s pride like a bow snapped in twain.

With the utterance of these words, both figures vanished within the shimmering depths of the seventeenth hall.

The Celestials, steeped in their own ethereal realms, heard nothing. The Ascended Celestials, distant and preoccupied, perceived only a murmur. But the three Grand Celestials present heard every syllable with chilling clarity.

Grand Celestial Dao Yi, his gaze hardening, regarded the swirling mists veiling the seventeenth hall as if seeing Wang Lin for the first time. His expression was one of profound unease. “The depths of Wang Lin’s machinations run far deeper than I suspected.”

Grand Celestial Wu Feng, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, observed the heavens. A slow smile crept across his lips. “His intent to crush this Lord of the Underworld is undeniably resolute.” The Immortal Emperor, however, his countenance a storm of fury, turned away with a flick of his silken sleeve. The ephemeral image of his power that had been cast upon the Celestial cultivators dissipated, leaving the grounds of Celestial Nirvana.

Within the Imperial Palace of the Central Continent, a chilling laugh echoed through the hallowed halls.

Elsewhere in the Central Continent, atop the ancient heights of Emperor Mountain, Grand Celestial Jiu Di rose from his seat. He gazed upon the falling leaves, his face etched with grim seriousness, his eyes burning with an uncanny light.

“A force to be reckoned with! His understanding of the Dao is exceptional, his battle prowess remarkable, and now, this cunning… admirable. He is no mere trinket, but a gem far exceeding the Lord of the Underworld.”

Scarcely three breaths had passed since Wang Lin and the Lord of the Underworld entered the seventeenth hall when, with a deafening crash, a figure was violently ejected, spewing a crimson torrent.

The figure, flung back hundreds of paces, finally regained his footing. It was the Lord of the Underworld, clad in black, his face ashen. He staggered, as if struggling to remain upright, and coughed up another mouthful of blood. His eyes were vacant, his spirit seemingly extinguished. He stared blankly at the hall, now a distant silhouette, lost in a haunted silence.

He had failed.

Barely had he entered when he was cast out, wounded and defeated. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. He dared not look down, but he felt the eyes of the cultivators, each a searing blade carving wounds upon his very being.

Time stretched on, the fourth breath, the fifth, the sixth… until nearly half an incense stick had burned away.

The Lord of the Underworld, his vacant eyes burning into the hall, remained rooted to the spot, fueled by the desperate hope that Wang Lin would suffer the same ignominious fate.

As the moments stretched into an eternity, his hope intensified, becoming the singular anchor of his shattered will. “If I could not succeed, neither shall he! If he, too, is vanquished, then I am not truly defeated!” The agonizing wait, the burning hope, were enough to shatter even the most resilient of spirits. The Lord of the Underworld, his hair matted and disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, remained fixed on the hall.

Time continued to slip away, half an incense stick, a full stick… nearly half an hour had passed.

Wang Lin had never lingered so long in any previous hall, but the seventeenth held him captive. This drawn-out struggle rekindled the Lord of the Underworld’s fading hope, infusing him with a newfound resolve.

“The longer he remains, the greater the difficulty. His chances of success diminish with each passing moment. Wang Lin… he cannot prevail! He must not succeed!” The Lord of the Underworld’s entire being, his hopes, his fears, his very soul, were concentrated within his burning gaze, fixed on the darkened entrance of the hall.

His fragile hope was now the last bastion of his pride. If it were to fall, his spirit would shatter completely, plunging him into an abyss of utter despair. “He will not succeed! He cannot succeed!”

The passage of time grew unbearable. Even the silent cultivators below stirred with curiosity, whispering their speculations.

Grand Celestial Dao Yi frowned, his gaze fixed upon the hall. Doubt gnawed at his heart. His convictions had wavered repeatedly in this short day, a phenomenon unprecedented in his long existence.

“Celestial Nirvana has only nineteen trials. He has conquered sixteen, proving his worth. Yet, if he should conquer the seventeenth… Jiu Di will surely descend, eager to claim him! Such beings are born only once in millennia. As for the Lord of the Underworld, broken by Wang Lin’s relentless assault… if he can rise from the ashes, well and good. But if not, his Dao heart is doomed.”

Grand Celestial Wu Feng, his thoughts in turmoil, also regarded the hall. Unlike Dao Yi, he retained a glimmer of confidence. “I offered him aid, a debt that weighs upon him. When he was condemned, I stood by his side. All things being equal, he would choose me. Dao Yi hesitates, a weakness that appeals only to the meek. True power demands respect, and respect is earned with kindness. Yet, if Wang Lin conquers the seventeenth… even I may find him beyond my reach. He is destined to become a Grand Celestial in his own right.”

Within the Imperial Palace of the Central Continent, an oppressive silence reigned. A palpable wave of fury emanated through the heavens. The Immortal Emperor, seated upon his jade throne, stared at the shimmering illusion before him, his eyes fixed upon the pale and defeated Lord of the Underworld, a strange light flickering within his gaze.
“Verily, I should have heeded the Grand Tutor’s counsel back then and extinguished this Wang Lin! Yet, I considered my stature as a Great Celestial Sovereign; whether to strike him down myself or dispatch another felt beneath me… It was I who afforded him the chance to flourish, believing all lay within my grasp!

Though he might grow, once he arrived at the Imperial City, I could conjure any pretext to rob him of his senses and deliver him to the Grand Tutor.

But never did I foresee his ascendance to such heights, drawing the gaze of other Great Celestial Sovereigns… He even threatens to unravel the Underworld Path, painstakingly cultivated at such great cost…” The Immortal Emperor murmured, gazing upon the ethereal screen, a smile playing upon his lips, at odds with his words.

“Should he conquer the seventeenth level, it would surely pique the interest of that old fox, Emperor Jiu. Should he be drawn into Jiu’s fold…” The Immortal Emperor closed his eyes.

“He may yet fail to breach its defenses!” “But… I find myself yearning for his triumph… that he might deliver a crushing blow to the Underworld Path…” The Immortal Emperor’s eyes snapped open, the enigmatic smile deepening.

“Underworld Path, I implore you, do not disappoint! I have gambled so much upon you… even allowing Wang Lin to flourish…” On Mount Di, in the Central Province, the Great Celestial Sovereign Emperor Jiu pondered the falling autumn leaves, his gaze insightful. He perceived an oversight by his fellow Great Celestial Sovereigns.

“Should he conquer the seventeenth level, not only would his name be sung throughout the realms, but it would also stand as a testament to his battle prowess. Such power, in all the Immortal Clans, now deems him the foremost beneath the Great Celestial Sovereigns… Even a Great Celestial Sovereign would find it difficult to capture him…

What price would one pay to bind such a talent to their banner? I confess, I harbor a desire for his failure to breach the seventeenth level.” Emperor Jiu mused, his gaze upon the autumn leaves now laced with a strange complexity.

In the Land of Celestial Ascension, within and without, all eyes were fixed upon the seventeenth level. Hearts were filled with anticipation, or a desire for Wang Lin’s failure. A full incense stick’s worth of time passed.

The extended silence had banished the pallor from the Underworld Path Master’s face, replaced by a burgeoning hope and confidence. Yet, at the very apex of this renewed assurance, a thunderbolt of realization struck him, causing him to tremble violently.

For he beheld it! Upon the seventeenth level’s grand hall, a blinding golden light erupted!

The golden light spread with furious speed, engulfing the eyes of all. From within that radiance, a figure clad in white emerged, his silver hair gleaming as though spun from gold itself.

Step by step, Wang Lin emerged, his gaze never once lingering upon the Underworld Path Master. Amidst the sea of onlookers, he walked past the man whose shattered hopes now lay in utter ruin.

Complete disregard!

He made no attempt to conquer the eighteenth level, descending instead. Pausing before the Great Celestial Sovereigns Dao Yi and Wu Feng, he offered a respectful bow, glanced at Wu Feng, and then transformed into a streaming rainbow of light, flying towards the ancient teleportation array in the distance. As the array shimmered with arcane energy, Wang Lin departed.

As he turned to leave, he caught sight of the figure named Hai Zi in the crowd, a smile playing upon his lips as he nodded.

“He… he conquered the seventeenth level…” The Underworld Path Master choked out, coughing up a mouthful of blood. This blood, like the mist that had come before, was essence of his spirit, for here in the Land of Celestial Ascension, he was but a spiritual presence, not one of flesh and bone.

As this spiritual essence dissipated, the Underworld Path Master seemed to lose all vitality, his head drooping. His pride was shattered.

His Dao heart, mercilessly crushed by Wang Lin, left him in a state of abject misery. He silently departed.

But at this moment, no one even noticed the Underworld Path Master. The Land of Celestial Ascension erupted in a clamor unlike any it had ever witnessed!

“Foremost beneath the Great Celestial Sovereigns! Wang Lin!”

“Today, the Land of Ascension has witnessed a transformation! Wang Lin has startled the heavens!” “From this day forward, another peerless cultivator joins the Immortal Clans!” “The Ascended First! The strongest beneath the Great Celestial Sovereigns!”

“He might even be hailed as the Immortal Clans’ future Sixth Sun! The cultivator with the greatest chance to become a Great Celestial Sovereign!”