High above the Celestial Tower, a figure clad in violet silk stood against the boundless sky. Wang Lin, his eyes burning like twin suns, hung suspended in the void. With a sweeping gesture of his hand, he commanded the swirling darkness from a thousand leagues around. It surged forth like a tide, the very fabric of the air bending to his will, as the abyssal mist rushed to coalesce before his outstretched fingers.

The heavens themselves trembled!

A thunderous roar echoed through the firmament, a symphony of crackling energy accompanying the onrushing darkness. The sound, deafening and primordial, reverberated across the land of Lingyue, shaking the very foundations of the realm.

In the blink of an eye, the gathered darkness, drawn from the far horizons, compressed itself into a sphere no larger than an infant’s skull. Within this orb of midnight, ethereal mists writhed amidst flashing runes of ancient power, pulsing with a raw, untamed energy that sent shivers down the spine.

Wang Lin’s fingers tightened. The runes within the dark sphere flared and died, erupting in a silent, implosive collapse. The sphere dissolved into wisps of ebony smoke that danced around Wang Lin, weaving and twisting before him until they formed a banner of forbidden power. A violet-gold禁幡, its silken cloth stirred by unseen winds, whispering secrets of forgotten ages with each rustling flap.

The thousand leagues were bathed in sudden sunlight. A brief respite, broken only by the echoing sighs of the void, and the fleeting shadows that flickered in the corners of the eye.

“Wandering Souls, return!” Wang Lin intoned, his voice resonant with arcane might. From the depths of the newly cleared sky, spectral figures emerged. Wailing and shimmering, they hurtled towards him, vanishing into his open mouth, to be absorbed into the depths of the soul-devouring尊魂幡 within his very essence.

*”This trial by blood, this mastery of the murderous Xian arts, will serve to strengthen the尊魂幡. With each soul, I weave my protection, increasing my chances of survival on this forsaken planet.”*

*”My master has bid me come to the Eastern Seas in three moons, yet scarce one remains. Should I go, or should I tarry?”*

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with indecision. He scanned the entirety of Lingyue with his divine sense, then stepped into the void. Like a wisp of smoke, he dissolved into nothingness.

Meanwhile, in Lingyue’s heart, upon the Five Spirit Mountain…

Tian Tai, the ancient one, his power nearing the fabled realm of Asking, sat in meditation at the mountain’s peak, drawing upon the lunar energies.

After a time, the old cultivator opened his eyes, his gaze clear as he addressed the empty air. “Tian Tai greets the Emissary.”

From the emptiness, a violet shimmer materialized, and Wang Lin materialized. He clasped his fist in greeting. “My apologies for intruding.”

The Elder shook his head. “It is I who owe amends, Emissary. If only that fool, my eldest, hadn’t strayed within ten thousand leagues of the Celestial Tower, startling the beast of unyielding spirit, your task would have been easier.”

“It matters not.” Wang Lin replied. He studied the Elder, sensing his proximity to the realm of enlightenment, a pivotal moment for cultivators beyond the age of ascension – a crossroads between life and death.

“To hear the Tao in the morning, to die content in the evening,” Wang Lin thought.

Tian Tai’s eyes narrowed. “If you are not here to chide me for my son’s foolishness, then why seek out an old man with one foot in the grave?”

Wang Lin fixed his gaze on the distant horizon, answering, “Does this land possess realms where the beasts gather?”

Tian Tai’s gaze sharpened. He pondered a moment, then reached into the void, producing a jade slip. “Such places exist, three in all, within this star. Their locations are recorded within this slip.”

Wang Lin accepted the jade slip, scanned its contents with his divine sense, nodded to Tian Tai, and without another word, vanished in a blur.

Tian Tai watched him disappear, muttering to himself, “His gaze carries the scent of death. Mayhaps, it would be better to cross the path of the old cultivator.”

North of the Realm, nestled within the million leagues of the primordial forest, the lair of a million beasts. Even the beasts that roam the earth have a chance to evolve and question their existence. It is here the clans go to trial their youngsters in the wild. Deeper within these woods, a realm of 300,000 leagues is known as the forbidden realm, where all avoid treading.

Wang Lin sheathed the jade slip within the pocket of his robes, locked onto his destination, and sliced his hand across his front. Where his hand had gone, a wave of silver began to ripple. He began to step forward, pacing his steps. One step. Two steps. Three. He continued to the heavens.

Ten steps, was all that was left.

With one final step, the figure that had been pacing back and forth began to flicker, as the air thrashed behind it.

A thunderous burst broke through the world, and the area was bare.

Clear skies began to rile, in the realm north of the land. Waves of energy began to ripple, and the skies twisted in tandem.

Three breathes after, the waves ceased to roll, as a shimmering flash of light shone brilliantly in the area. So bright was the light, it stood as another sun in the heavens. Gold, and Silver, both shining for glory!

In the center, Wang Lin stood still.

Wang Lin’s face was pale, as his breath wavered. He reached into his robes, and pulled out an ancient pill that glistened with ethereal energy. Once the pill was taken, Wang Lin felt refreshed.

As Wang Lin stood still, the area regained its peace, and the shining light faded.

With no further lingering, Wang Lin bolted forward, rushing towards the wild forests millions of leagues away.

As he flew, the ground shifted from gold to azure, shining a haunting color. A towering monolith stood before him, carved with words of red with a malevolent energy.

“North Gate of the Nether!” The words reeked with power, almost tangible in the air, coalescing into a chilling wind that howled relentlessly.

Wang Lin stared long at the monolith, before proceeding beyond the veiled air. With his divine sense, he could see the other side.
The Demon Northlands yawned before him, a tapestry of untamed mountains stretching into the shadowed heart of the world. No path paved by mortal hand dared to intrude; only a thick carpet of decaying leaves, a fragrant shroud of rot, blanketed the earth. Silence, profound and unsettling, reigned supreme, broken by no bird song, no rustle of unseen creatures. Even under the pale light of day, a chilling aura emanated from this place, a spectral cold that seeped into the very bones.

Wang Lin, his gaze lingering on the desolate vista, his thoughts a churning vortex, stepped forward.

“The Immortal Art of Slaughter… its secrets lie veiled within the crimson dance,” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the stifled air. “Here, in the Demon Northlands, shall I begin my bloody apprenticeship.”

As if in mocking response, a chorus of wind-borne whistles echoed through the sky. Streaks of vibrant light, the hallmarks of enchanted blades, descended towards him, each radiating the resonant hum of potent magic. Voices, confident and clear, followed in their wake.

“Senior Brother, we have arrived!”

Wang Lin’s stride remained unbroken. He spared no glance for the approaching spectacle, his focus locked on the shrouded depths ahead. He plunged into the veiling mist, his form dissolving into the ethereal embrace of the Demon Northlands.

Moments after his passage, five figures alighted gracefully at the foot of the weathered stone obelisk that marked the border of the forbidden realm. Three were men, two women, their raiment hinting at divided allegiances. Each possessed a beauty that bordered on the otherworldly, a palpable energy that thrummed beneath their skin.

“Senior Brother,” the younger of the women, her ruby lips adorned with a single, captivating mole, spoke softly, “I believe I saw someone enter the Northlands just now.” Despite her youth, the power coiled within her indicated a mastery of the nascent Golden Core stage.

Among the men, one, with a face seasoned by experience and clad in robes of pristine white and azure, smiled indulgently. His long hair was bound with a simple silken cord, and a sheathed longsword of antique design graced his back.

“This is no forbidden ground, little sister,” he replied. “Many sects send their aspirants here to test their mettle. To see another enter is hardly cause for alarm. When our esteemed teachers arrive, we shall proceed together, and any foolish enough to cross our path will surely yield. Worry yourself not.”

The second man amongst them, no more than twenty-seven summers old and resplendent in cerulean finery, chuckled obsequiously. “Indeed! Brother Guo’s sect, the Great Luo Sword Sect, stands as a titan upon the Star of Heavenly Fortune! Even disciples of the Heavenly Fortune Sect themselves would yield to his might. Let alone some vagrant from a lesser world.”

The remaining man and woman remained silent. The woman, her beauty eclipsing even the red-lipped enchantress, was a vision in shimmering white silk. A ribbon of sapphire blue cinched her slender waist. Her dark hair, woven with a delicate orchid blossom, framed a face of crystalline perfection. But a burning hatred flickered in her eyes, a venomous glare she directed, unmasked, towards the vaunted Brother Guo.

Guo, oblivious to the woman’s scorn, favored her with a gentle smile. “Fear not, Qian Qin. You shall have your share of the Goldbloom Fruit, enough to satisfy your own sect’s needs.”

Qian Qin, her face twisted with a mixture of anger and disgust, spat the words, “The Great Luo Sword Sect, so renowned for its honor, stoops to such treachery! I was blind, Qian Qin was a fool to trust you!”

Guo merely shook his head. “Celestial treasures are for those who can seize them. The Goldbloom Fruit is of great need to my elder, and I, acting as your invited protector, am bound to inform my sect of this find.”

Meanwhile, within the Demon Northlands, Wang Lin moved with blinding speed, his eyes burning with an icy fire.

“The Great Luo Sword Sect, you say? Interesting… perhaps I will find traces of Senior Zhou Yi’s presence here… but what, pray tell, is this Goldbloom Fruit?”