From the Celestial Lands, countless cultivators from various sects were channeled in waves through ancient, rarely used teleportation arrays, their destination being the desolate Cangmang Basin. Similarly, legions of warriors from the Ancient Clans, led by three Imperial Sovereigns, arrived at this fateful place via similar means. Whether a grand war would erupt there remained uncertain. Everything hinged on those chosen from both sides to enter the Primal God Realm—on which faction could birth a new Grand Empyrean, or on which side’s existing Grand Empyrean could reach greater heights within that ancient domain. These were the true arbiters of whether conflict would engulf the land.

If a balance could be maintained, so be it. However, should that equilibrium shatter, the Celestial Lands, already suspecting that Grand Empyrean Gu Dao was bound to his clan’s borders, knew that war was inevitable, unless the Ancient Clans chose to retreat, dared not fight, and refused to step beyond their boundaries.

No one knew the true age of the Primal God Realm, its existence seeming to predate even the Celestial Gang Continent itself. Even the Ancestral Immortals and Ancient Ancestors, born from the Void, possessed only a partial understanding of its mysteries.

Wang Lin sat cross-legged near the Sea Wall Storm, his gaze fixed upon the towering pillars within, formed into a colossal gate. The gate remained tightly sealed, but the time of its opening was nigh. He did not rush; he had waited millennia for this day, and a few more months were but a trifle. Yet, a single question lingered in his heart: “Had I not begun that reckless plan within the Ancient Ancestor Temple, what form would the Primal God Realm take upon its opening?” He pondered this unanswerable question for a long while, lost in thought.

As Wang Lin awaited the opening of the Primal God Realm, a mere month away, three streaks of light tore through the skies from the direction of the Ancient Clans. These were none other than the three Grand Empyreans of the Ancient Clan: Song Tian, Xuan Luo, and the enigmatic, ancient Grand Empyrean.

In a breath, the three streaks arrived near Wang Lin, resolving into their individual forms. Song Tian, with a complex expression, bowed respectfully towards Wang Lin. “Song Tian greets Wang Sovereign.” The ancient Grand Empyrean of the Primordial Clan, equally silent, offered a respectful bow. Three centuries prior, they had both become aware that the strongest being in the Celestial Gang Continent was no longer Grand Empyrean Gu Dao, but this man named Wang Lin. They had witnessed the phantom scene of his power three hundred years prior, and then sought confirmation from Gu Dao himself, receiving the same answer.

Xuan Luo seemed aged compared to before, yet a smile graced his face. He looked upon his former disciple, filled with joy at his extraordinary strength. He prepared to offer his own respects alongside Song Tian, for on the Celestial Gang Continent, strength was paramount.

But the moment these three arrived, Wang Lin rose to his feet. Had it only been Song Tian and the ancient Grand Empyrean, he might not have. But Xuan Luo’s presence compelled him to act without hesitation, offering a bow to Xuan Luo first. “Wang Lin greets Master.”

Song Tian and the ancient Grand Empyrean observed this, their minds reeling. They had witnessed countless instances of master and disciple turning against each other, of disciples becoming powerful and forgetting their former teachers. Even those who outwardly showed respect often did so only superficially. But Wang Lin’s sincerity was unmistakable. As the strongest being on the Celestial Gang Continent, Wang Lin could have easily accepted Xuan Luo’s bow, and indeed, the two of them had severed their relationship long ago in the Imperial Dao Palace.

Wang Lin looked at Xuan Luo, at the aging visage of his master. He could not allow his master to bow to him, even if he was now the strongest in the Celestial Gang Continent, even if he were to become even stronger in the future. He could not commit such an act of ingratitude.

Xuan Luo opened his mouth to speak, but ultimately only offered a smile, nodding to Wang Lin. Perhaps due to Wang Lin’s respect for Xuan Luo, in the days that followed, Song Tian and the ancient Grand Empyrean treated Xuan Luo with a certain deference. They had previously been equals, but now, Song Tian and the ancient Grand Empyrean showed Xuan Luo a hint of respect. To be called “Master” by Wang Lin, the strongest being on the Celestial Gang Continent, the one who had defeated Grand Empyrean Gu Dao—that alone was enough to change everything.

Fifteen days before the opening of the Primal God Realm, the Sea Wall Storm underwent a sudden transformation. The roar of the Sea Wall intensified tenfold, becoming deafening. The overwhelming sound could crush the sanity of ordinary men, and even low-level cultivators who dared to approach would be unable to withstand it. Some would suffer mental trauma and shattered bodies, while others would simply explode into nothingness.

Throughout history, the reason low-level cultivators had never dared to risk entering the Primal God Realm to gamble for a future was largely due to this deafening roar. Under this onslaught, low-level cultivators could not even get close. And as time passed, the roar would become increasingly intense, reaching a crescendo that shook the heavens and earth. Cultivators below the Third Step would face certain death upon arrival, and even magical treasures would offer no protection. On the final day, the roar could obliterate all cultivators below the Sky Tribulation Realm, effectively limiting the number of people who could venture forth.

As the roar reverberated, the nine-colored light within the Sea Wall burst forth, illuminating the skies, the earth, and all that lay beyond. The nine-
Colors swirled with razor-sharp intensity, forming a vortex that swept across the surrounding area. Wang Lin remained calm, his face impassive. He could clearly see that the heavenly gate formed by the nine pillars within the Sea Wall was loosening. The sudden, amplified roar was a result of this loosening. It was as if a force within the gate was roaring and striking, desperate to break free.

“Something is wrong…” Xuan Luo muttered softly beside Wang Lin, his gaze fixed upon the Sea Wall Storm. “The echoes of the Ancient God Realm’s opening, I recall, were a thunderous prelude, arriving a week before the appointed hour. Yet now, a week has been prematurely stolen…” Xuan Luo furrowed his brow, a shadow of unease darkening his weathered face. “If this is so,” he continued, his voice grave, “the resonance within the Realm shall endure far longer than we have ever known. And, perhaps, its fury shall amplify manifold, barring even the passage of those of our clan who have achieved the full manifestation and ethereal fusion of the twenty-seven stars…” A clear worry etched itself upon his features.

Wang Lin, standing beside him, gazed upon the tempestuous Sea Wall. He had dwelled amongst the Ancient Clan for an age, and well knew that a member of the clan who had achieved the full manifestation and ethereal fusion of the twenty-seven stars was a match for the Gold Exalts of the Immortal Clan. In times past, the opening of the Ancient God Realm had drawn forth a multitude of Void Tribulation cultivators from both factions, dispatched to gamble their fates in hopes of finding some wondrous creation. Yet these were but pawns in the game. The true players were the Gold Exalts and Celestial Exalts, and, rarest of all, those who trod the path of the Sky Ascendant.

But now, with the premature clamor, Xuan Luo hesitated, the weight of uncertainty pressing upon him. Wang Lin turned his gaze from the chaotic ocean to the lands behind, where he felt the approach of hundreds of Ancient Clan warriors, their speed promising arrival within three days.

The days dwindled, each one bringing a crescendo of the booming resonance. On the second day, the clamor grew exponentially; by the third, it was amplified yet again. The very heavens seemed to reel under the assault of the sound, unsettling both Song Tian and the Great Celestial Exalt, their faces clouded with apprehension.

At midday of the third day, twelve suns away from the Realm’s opening, Wang Lin’s calm voice, carried clearly over the deafening roar, reached the ears of Song Tian and the others. “The Immortal Clan’s Great Celestial Exalts arrive.”

True to his words, from beyond the Sea Wall, three streaks of light descended, carrying Jiu Di, Wu Feng, and Dao Yi. The Twin Celestial Exalt had chosen to remain, her heart not swayed by the Realm’s allure. Even Lian Dao Fei, now the Immortal Emperor, had chosen to stay behind. Upon their arrival, the three Immortals were immediately struck by the altered nature of the resonance. Their faces, like those of Xuan Luo and his kin, turned grim. Their gazes swept across the turbulent barrier until they beheld Xuan Luo, Xuan Bei, and the ever-enigmatic Wang Lin.

“Dao Yi greets Wang, the Venerated One.” Dao Yi bowed deeply, without hesitation or pause.

“Homage to Wang, the Venerated One.” Wu Feng, his expression neutral, bowed as well, after these long centuries.

Jiu Di, after a moment of internal debate, bowed his head to Wang Lin.

Wang Lin smiled, nodding towards Wu Feng. “It has been too long.”

“Centuries, perhaps,” Wu Feng replied, his voice filled with a hint of warmth. “I never anticipated Wang’s cultivation would reach such heights.”

Even as they spoke, a multitude of streaks appeared on the horizon behind the Ancient Clan, carrying the chosen warriors towards the Realm. Simultaneously, behind Jiu Di and the other Immortals, a grand teleportation array materialized, disgorging hundreds of figures. As these figures fully manifested, the very fabric of reality seemed to strain under their combined presence.

The thunderous roar of the Sea Wall amplified once more, threatening to shatter the world. Space itself began to fracture, shimmering, ephemeral rifts appearing around them. The six Great Celestial Exalts all drew in a sharp breath, their expressions mirroring a shared sense of grave concern.