As the crimson Soulblood manifested in the wake of the setting sun, its hue underwent a swift and unsettling transformation, bleeding into shades of violet. By the time it descended upon the ancient Ancestral Statue, it had irrevocably become a thing of pure, regal purple.

Purple blood. The Soulblood of the Ancient Ancestor himself!

The aura of the soul within pulsed with growing strength, bathing the entirety of the heavens in a violet shroud.

The whole of the Primeval Imperial City, including the New Emperor Ji Du, watched as the violet blood merged with the Ancestral Statue. Instantly, a piercingly brilliant violet light erupted, forming a radiant halo that cascaded down the statue, from its head to its base.

In the blink of an eye, the violet halo vanished into the depths of the Ancestral Shrine at the statue’s foot, swallowed by the ancient stones.

Deep within the Shrine, Wang Lin sat in meditation, now enveloped in violet mist. Shards of the radiant violet light coalesced around him, drawn to his mortal form, merging swiftly with the single drop of Soulblood that already resided within.

The Old Dao’s Threefold Spirit Severance was a gift of the Ancient Ancestor, and this Soulblood was its reward!

Every member of the Ancient Clan who witnessed the descent of the purple blood upon the Ancestral Statue was shaken to their core, unable to fathom the reality of what they had seen. It was Soulblood – the Soulblood of the Ancient Ancestor!

“Legends speak of three drops of Soulblood to create a bloodline of the Ancient ones! He has gained a single drop from the Ancestral Gift!”

“Could it be that one who perfectly endures the Old Dao’s Threefold Spirit Severance is granted such Soulblood?!”

A clamor of disbelief echoed across the land. Ji Du, gazing upon the Ancestral Statue, drew a sharp breath. Even he had never imagined that his adopted father could receive the Soulblood of the Ancient Ancestor.

As the violet blood disappeared, the sky began to revert to its former glory, as if all was nearing its end. The Ancestral Gift had been bestowed; the Three Wounds and Seven Tribulations were complete.

But even as this thought took root in the minds of all present, the heavens were once again convulsed by change. A fresh wave of cries and gasps arose from every corner of the Primeval Imperial City.

“It is not over! Look! The heavens are shifting again! The Ancestral Gift has not ended!”

“Violet! More violet!”

“This is impossible! Could there be more Soulblood to descend?”

The uproar shook the heavens as, against all belief, the fading violet in the sky surged back to brilliance. In the far reaches of the firmament, a violet vortex took shape, its swirling heart seemingly a black abyss.

From that abyss, where the violet light was most intense, a single drop of violet blood descended slowly. As it came into view, a wave of astonishment washed over the onlookers, nearly shattering the very sky.

“More Soulblood!”

“Two drops! He has received two drops of Soulblood!”

The Soulblood drifted down, eventually merging with the head of the Ancestral Statue. A flash of violet light, a swift descent, and it vanished into the Ancestral Shrine.

The clamor continued unabated. Within the Shrine, the violet shards of light gathered around Wang Lin, becoming ever denser, converging upon his body before disappearing into it.

At the moment when all the violet light had been absorbed into his flesh, Wang Lin was imbued with the power of two Soulbloods. His eyes snapped open.

As his gaze pierced the darkness, the Ancestral Statue erupted in a blinding violet radiance. Enshrouded in the swirling light, the image of Wang Lin’s nascent spirit, which had previously overlaid the statue, began to shrink at a visible pace. It retreated from the stone form and descended, disappearing into the Shrine, gone without a trace.

The sky slowly returned to normal, purged of all violet. The Ancestral Statue stood silent once more, gazing upon the world with an expression of disdain mixed with arrogance.

As the extraordinary events faded from the heavens, the people of the Primeval Imperial City slowly recovered from their shock, their hearts still turbulent as the raging sea, though their faces were carefully composed.

Their eyes, turned towards the Ancestral Shrine, were filled with a mixture of emotions: envy, longing, confusion, and awe.

Within the Shrine, before Wang Lin, the radiant nascent spirit, having withdrawn from the Ancestral Statue, floated weightlessly. It slowly merged with his body, infusing his dried husk with a limitless life force.

In a matter of breaths, his body, once skeletal, regained its former strength. He was as he had been when he first entered the Shrine, but the power that coursed within him was immeasurably greater.

Wang Lin closed his eyes, feeling the changes in his nascent spirit. Its strength had become such that his spiritual sense, when unleashed, could not only encompass the entire Ancient Clan’s lands, but even extend to the vast, bowl-shaped basin formed by the risen ocean waters.

Such a powerful spiritual sense required a nascent spirit of near invulnerability to maintain. And now, after its three divisions and subsequent fusions, Wang Lin’s nascent spirit had reached an unimaginable level.

He could perceive the rules governing the heavens and earth, feel the pulse of all creation, and even witness the passage of time itself.

This strength was not limited to his spirit alone. His body, already formidable, was now even more so. The sensation of power coursing through every limb filled Wang Lin with the conviction that he could shatter the very sky with a single blow.

“I wonder…how does my current state compare to that of the Great Heavenly Venerate of the Old Dao?” Wang Lin murmured. Then, he rose to his feet and strode towards the entrance of the Shrine.

This was the first time he had stepped out of the Shrine in a century. As he took each step, when he finally emerged, the blinding sunlight struck his eyes. He saw the sky, he saw the endless azure expanse, but he did not see his mentor, Xuan Luo.

Xuan Luo had chosen to depart during the descent of the second drop of Soulblood. He did not meet Wang Lin, but silently turned and walked away, heading towards the lands of the Dao Clan.

He had come only to protect Wang Lin, and now that his task was done, he did not know what to say to Wang Lin. Leaving was the only option.

Watching the sky, gazing in the direction Xuan Luo had taken, Wang Lin was silent. There was no confusion in his eyes, only a profound tenderness.
Before departing, Wang Lin murmured to himself, “I must pay respects to my revered Master…”

“The Bridge to Transcendence… I wonder, with my current strength, if I can tread upon the Fourth Bridge! Regardless, this matter is concluded. Only three centuries remain until the opening of the Ancient God Realm. I do not wish to remain on the Immortal Astral Continent for those three centuries. I yearn to return home…”

“To return home, with Wan’er by my side.” Wang Lin withdrew his gaze from the heavens and turned, his stride carrying him toward the Imperial Palace.

He had promised Ji Du that he would witness his ascension as Emperor!

Within the Imperial Palace, the very air remained still, yet from the void emerged the spectral form of Wang Lin. Countless eyes of the Imperial clan fell upon him as he regarded Ji Du, a faint smile gracing his lips.

“You will be a worthy Emperor,” Wang Lin spoke, his voice measured.

Ji Du gazed at Wang Lin, a sense of foreboding weighing on his heart. He sensed that his Godfather was preparing to depart.

“Cherish your role as Emperor, lead your people, guide them toward strength!” Wang Lin raised his right hand and with a flourish, summoned the Imperial Crown from its place of honor above the throne. It soared from the grand hall, hurtling toward Wang Lin, who seized it.

With a wave of his hand, the Imperial Crown drifted toward Ji Du, settling upon his head. In that instant, Ji Du, adorned in the Emperor’s robes, became the true Emperor!

With a final smile, Wang Lin turned and with a single step, vanished into the far reaches of the void. He disappeared from the Ancient Emperor’s City, from the sight of all, from the very eyes of Ji Du.

“Godfather!!” Ji Du cried out toward the place where Wang Lin had been, a pang of sorrow piercing his heart. He could never forget that all he had achieved was thanks to Wang Lin.

Wang Lin was gone.

He left the Ancient Emperor’s line, gazing upon the Immortal clan in the world and toward the Seven Dao Sect. After a moment of contemplation, he journeyed toward the Ancient Dao Imperial City, which he had departed from two centuries prior.

Within the Ancient Dao Imperial City, only Xuan Luo sensed his arrival. At the rear of the Ancient Dao Hall, within the humble abode where he had once resided, Wang Lin found Xuan Luo.

Master and disciple remained silent for a long time, until a smile broke across Xuan Luo’s face.

“You have returned.”

“Disciple greets Master.”

Within that dwelling, Wang Lin found a warmth he had not felt for two centuries. He cast aside the mantle of a power rivaling the Ancient Dao; in their eyes, Xuan Luo was the Master, and he was the disciple.

In the backyard of the Ancient Dao Hall, a place akin to a verdant haven, Wang Lin remained for three years.

Those three years were a period of spiritual cleansing for Wang Lin, allowing him to fully command the power he had so swiftly gained. He remained at Xuan Luo’s side, for Xuan Luo had forsaken reincarnation. After those three years, Wang Lin bowed before Xuan Luo, his eyes glistening with farewell. Turning, he ascended into the heavens.

Xuan Luo watched his disciple depart, knowing that their next meeting might not be for three hundred years.

Wang Lin’s figure vanished into the cosmos. In a remote mountain range near the basin that was once the boundless ocean, Wang Lin merged his nascent soul and cultivation to their pinnacle. He chose to once more traverse the Bridge to Transcendence!

With his current cultivation, he could choose at any moment to break through the bottleneck, to plunge into the illusory heavens and endure the trials of transcendence.

Several days passed. An invisible ripple emanated from the depths of the mountains, spreading in all directions and creating an aura so potent that even a Grand Empyrean would struggle to endure it. Then, Wang Lin stood once more in the familiar realm of the Bridge to Transcendence!

The sky remained dim and veiled, the ground shrouded in mist. In the hazy distance, he could make out six arching bridges, each grander than the last. Beyond the final bridge, a blurred, ethereal landscape beckoned, drawing Wang Lin’s gaze.

Behind him lay the three bridges he had already conquered.

He stood upon the very spot where, centuries ago, he had stepped into the void beyond the Fourth Bridge.

After a long moment, he tore his gaze from the distant, illusory scene beyond the Ninth Bridge. He looked down upon the massive Fourth Bridge beneath his feet, raised his right foot, and stepped forward!