The cry of “Death! Death!” ripped from Hulin’s throat as he raged forward. Each step was a thunderclap, each fist a cataclysm. Few could withstand his fury; those who dared stand in his path were met with a single, devastating blow that shattered flesh and bone, leaving only crimson mist in his wake.

Encircled by a multitude of foes, Wang Lin remained focused. He did not see the figures rushing from the palace depths, nor the shimmering of the传送阵 (chuánsòng zhèn, teleportation arrays) within the royal halls. He did not see the endless stream of ancient warriors emerging from those glowing portals, warriors who paused only a heartbeat before charging towards Wang Lin in the plaza.

Wang Lin’s gaze was fixed, unwavering, upon the silhouette of Wan’er within the grand hall, a thousand *zhang* distant.

As more enemies arrived, obscuring even his line of sight, Wang Lin roared defiance to the heavens. He leapt, a desperate act, for here space itself was warped, forbidding the instantaneous arts of teleportation. Yet, as he soared, a transformation seized him. His white hair, a testament to countless trials, darkened, half of it reverting to its youthful black.

At that very instant, a spectral sun materialized behind him, the very essence of a Grand Empyrean! It painted the night sky, casting an eerie black and white radiance upon the palace.

The Emperor Daogu paled, his eyes widening in disbelief. A strangled gasp escaped his lips. “A Grand Empyrean!” he cried.

Not only he, but the tens of thousands of Daogu warriors who encircled Wang Lin, witnessed this bizarre sun. Their minds reeled, struck dumb with terror. “Grand Empyrean!” they echoed in horror. “He… He is a Grand Empyrean!”

Far off, Prince Jidu watched with feverish glee. This was the day he had awaited. He retreated, a sinister smile twisting his lips as he cast a scornful glance at the Emperor Daogu. “Daogu!” he hissed, “This disaster is of your own making, you witless fool!”

Even as Prince Jidu reveled in the chaos, the black and white sun behind Wang Lin erupted in blinding light, engulfing the heavens and the earth. A primal scream tore from Wang Lin’s throat as he raised his hands, as if lifting the celestial orb itself. With a furious gesture, he unleashed the power of the Grand Empyrean upon the thousands of warriors who dared stand before him.

The spectral sun hurtled towards the ground like a fallen star, unleashing a cataclysmic roar that drowned out even the incessant drums of war. It became the final, echoing testament of the age.

An immense shockwave rippled outward, and all who touched it were instantly consumed, their bodies disintegrating into dust. The palace plaza became ground zero for annihilation.

The earth cracked and buckled, the flagstones shattered, the very sky trembled. Countless floating platforms, once symbols of Daogu power, crumbled into nothingness. The ranks of the Daogu warriors were decimated, swept away as if by a furious tempest.

As the wave of destruction surged towards the grand hall, a figure materialized in the plaza. He was an elder, clad in imperial robes, his very presence radiating an aura of command. With a gesture born of ancient power, he raised his hand and met the oncoming wave of the Grand Empyrean’s essence with a single, defiant palm.

The elder stood six thousand *zhang* from the grand hall, shielded by the combined might of the Daogu clan: the seventy-two Saints, the thirty-six Fiends, the eighteen Kings, and the nine undying generals. They had abstained from the previous carnage, instead guarding the halls of power.

As the elder appeared, a fanatical reverence swept through the assembled ranks, even the Emperor Daogu himself bowing his head in respect.

The moment the elder’s hand met the Grand Empyrean’s wave, his expression contorted in pain. Cracking sounds echoed from his bones, his hair billowed despite the still air, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood. He staggered back, unleashing a desperate cry: “With my blood, I unleash the Grand Barrier of the Ancient Clan!”

The blood he had spat forth pulsed with a dark light, swiftly spreading to form a colossal barrier, an impenetrable wall erected before him to halt the onslaught.

The barrier clashed against the Grand Empyrean’s power, unleashing a deafening roar that reverberated through the entire Daogu capital. Yet as the echoes faded, a grim picture emerged.

The plaza before the barrier was utterly destroyed, a wasteland of rubble. But behind it, everything remained untouched, preserved from the devastation.

But the power of a Grand Empyrean could not be so easily contained. The barrier, though immense, flickered and cracked, ultimately shattering into shards after weathering the attack.

The elder, his face ashen, watched as his right arm crumbled to dust. He spat forth another mouthful of blood, his vitality visibly drained. Staggering, he was thrown backwards, crashing into the grand hall itself, landing at the feet of the Emperor Daogu.

“Father!” cried the Emperor, reaching to help the elder to his feet. But the elder, gritting his teeth, rose unassisted. Ignoring his ruined arm, he lashed out with his remaining hand, striking the Emperor across the face.

The sound of the blow echoed through the hall, leaving a crimson handprint upon the Emperor’s cheek. “Get out!” roared the elder. “For the sake of a woman, you have drawn a terrible enemy upon the Daogu clan! I will travel to Gu Dao Mountain and plead before the Grand Empyrean Gu Dao himself! We will choose a new Emperor!”

The Emperor’s eyes flashed with cold fury. He touched his bruised cheek and spat a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva onto the floor. “Father,” he said, his voice a silken threat, “Attend to the immediate matter. My affairs are not yours to command. With the protection of the Grand Empyrean Gu Dao, I am not so easily slain.”

“You!” the elder spat, but turned his gaze, fixing it with dark apprehension upon Wang Lin, who strode inexorably towards the hall.

The plaza was now a desolate expanse, save for the ranks of warriors before the hall and the distant figures of the two other clans. The ground was slick with blood, enough to fill a river.

Wang Lin walked upon the blood-soaked earth, advancing upon the hall. Only the assembled warriors stood between him and his goal, a formidable host of Daogu’s most powerful protectors.
Wang Lin’s gaze swept past the near thousand souls before him, settling on the grand hall. Within stood the elder, the esteemed Daogu Emperor, and, unwavering, Song Zhi, her eyes locked on his.

A storm of confusion raged within Song Zhi’s gaze, a fierce struggle beginning to surface from the depths.

From the edges of the plaza, through the heart of the palace, streaks of light, figures taking form, hurtled towards the heart of the conflict from all sides. A seemingly endless swarm of souls, numbering tens of thousands, descended, and behind them, more surged forth, summoned by the flickering light of arcane formations, more Daogu warriors rushing to battle.

This was the heart of Daogu, the Emperor’s City, a bastion of their people. And with the Emperor’s grand betrothal ceremony, the city had swelled with Daogu kin from across the lands.

Wang Lin, for all his power, for all his might rivalling the Great Celestial Lords, would eventually succumb if caught within this endless tide.

Moreover, this was the palace, a nexus of ancient enchantments and the relics of ancient ancestors, a dragon’s lair for any mortal soul. Yet, Wang Lin cared not. His single, burning desire: to claim Wan’er as his own.

“Halt! One more step, and this woman dies!” The Emperor’s father, a venerable elder, moved swiftly to Song Zhi’s side, his voice a guttural snarl aimed at Wang Lin.

Song Zhi’s face was pale, but devoid of fear. Her eyes remained lost in a haze, fixed on Wang Lin, as if memories stirred within, fighting against unseen chains that held her mind captive.

Wang Lin paused, his gaze unwavering from the woman. A gentle expression softened his features, yet his words sent a chill through the elder’s very bones.

“If she dies, Wang Lin will turn and depart…” His voice was low, but every soul present felt the chilling promise behind them. “…But I swear upon what remains of my life, the Daogu bloodline will be cleansed from the world. The three Ancient Clans shall become but two.”

“I can deliver on this.” Wang Lin’s words, softly spoken, carried the weight of inevitability. With his mastery, the destruction he promised was not a threat, but a prophecy.

The elder licked his lips, his hand betraying him with a tremor. He believed him. He felt the chilling weight of Wang Lin’s threat. Silence fell, broken only by his ragged breath. He abandoned the notion of killing the woman. Her life was his only leverage. Before coming here, he had crushed a jade talisman passed down from the ancient Daogu Great Celestial Lord. The breaking of this jade signaled a crisis in the royal family and a plea for intervention.

Having spoken his vow, Wang Lin remained silent. Before the descending flood of warriors could reach him, he blurred into motion, stepping towards the thousand Daogu warriors guarding the hall.

“Kill him!” As Wang Lin entered the gauntlet, the elite of the Daogu, the Seventy-Two Saints, unleashed their full might. Screaming war cries, they surged toward him, a wave of hatred and fury.

As they descended upon him, the Seventy-Two raised their hands in unison, unleashing their power in a single, devastating blow. Behind them, seventy-two colossal Daogu specters materialized, each mimicking their movements, each bringing their wrath to bear on Wang Lin.

Madness blazed in Wang Lin’s eyes. He did not strike, but instead, opened his jaws wide and roared.

The Daogu form behind him echoed his call, a terrifying ancient bellow.

His roar contained all of his cultivation, the essence of his Daogu blood, and the power of his very soul. The sound crashed against the Seventy-Two in a wave of pure energy.

The force of the impact was deafening. The Seventy-Two, mighty warriors though they were, crumbled before Wang Lin’s unleashed power.

In the moment of their shattering, Wang Lin became a tempest of destruction, carving his way through the ranks before the hall. With each step, he crushed a skull in his grip, sent bodies flying with sweeping blows, and unleashed a crimson torrent of energy that was his Blood Sword. The blade carved a path through dozens more, and Wang Lin found himself less than three thousand paces from the hall.

Around him, thirty-six crimson shadows flickered into existence – the Thirty-Six Fiends, ready to tear him asunder.

Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed with cold fury. With a flick of his wrist, threads of emerald smoke spiraled from his fingertips, gathering and burning with celestial flames.

The Eight Extremes Dao, the Path of Extreme Fire! But even as he prepared to unleash this devastating power, a sigh echoed across the heavens.

A sigh of sorrow, disappointment, and the crushing weight of despair.

“Wang Lin…”

Wang Lin froze.

The arrival of Xuan Luo looms. What will Wang Lin choose? He needs the power of the Celestial Votes, friends! Do not hold them back! Unleash them!