Beneath the Stele of the Northern Demongate, as the embers of three incense sticks turned to ash, a deafening crack rent the heavens. Three streaks of incandescent light, like celestial swords of immense power, plunged from the sky.

They struck the earth with a thunderous roar beside the seven figures gathered at the base of the stele. A wave of raw force erupted outwards, flinging all but the man named Guo backwards, scattering them like leaves in a storm. Their faces were ashen, their eyes wide with terror.

When the winds subsided, three figures stood revealed before the monolithic stone.

They were elders, each with hair as white as winter snow. Beneath their somber black robes, an aura of potent swordsmanship pulsed. Upon their backs, each bore an ancient blade, its very presence radiating an awe-inspiring power.

Of the three, only one radiated the aura of a nascent god, his cultivation at the Late Stage of Divine Transformation. The other two were in their early stages of Infant Soul mastery.

Guo, upon seeing the three, felt his very soul tremble. He bowed deeply, his voice thick with reverence. “Disciple of the Sixth Generation, Guo Xieyi, greets Uncle-Master.” He addressed the elder radiating Divine Transformation, his respect bordering on awe.

The elder smiled gently, inclining his head. “Guo Xieyi, allow me to present the two Elders of the Sword Pavilion!” He stepped aside, giving Guo a knowing look.

Without hesitation, Guo knelt upon one knee, his posture even more deferential than before. “Disciple greets the Elders!”

The two Infant Soul elders, one tall and imposing, the other short and wiry, exchanged glances. The taller of the two gave a curt nod. “Rise and speak. Was it you who discovered the Aurgolden Fruit?”

Guo hastily rose to his feet, pointing towards a woman standing a dozen paces away. Her name was Qianqin, and she remained silent, her eyes filled with icy disdain. “This maiden is a friend. It was her sect that first discovered the Aurgolden Fruit. Alas, a formidable beast guards it, and her sect lacks the strength to claim it. I happened to pass by and offered my aid.”

The two elders exchanged another silent look. The shorter one then fixed his gaze on Qianqin.

“Girl, how many fruits did you see on the tree?”

Qianqin, loath to speak, found herself compelled by the elder’s piercing gaze, as sharp as a lightning strike. She spoke softly, almost inaudibly. “Approximately a hundred.”

“A hundred!” The shorter elder’s eyes flashed with avarice. His voice rumbled with a newfound intensity. “A hundred Aurgolden Fruit… the guardian beast must be powerful indeed. Your sect must possess no small skill to find such a treasure!”

Qianqin remained silent, but a young man clad in white at her side spoke with barely suppressed fury. “Our sect endured hardship and sacrifice, losing elders to discover the fruit’s location. You, the Great Luo Sword Sect…”

“Silence!” Qianqin’s brow furrowed, her voice a sharp rebuke. The young man, his face flushed with anger, took a deep breath, averted his gaze, and said no more.

Guo Xieyi hesitated, then spoke with forced humility. “Elders, Qianqin is my friend. Might she be granted a single fruit after they are claimed?” The taller elder laughed heartily. “If they are found, she may have one!”

“Lead the way!”

Qianqin sighed inwardly, her heart heavy with dread. She had no choice but to obey. To refuse would doom her sect. The Great Luo Sword Sect was ruthless, and resistance would be met with annihilation.

Moreover, the power radiating from these two elders alone dwarfed that of her sect’s own Grand Elder. Her sect was but a flickering candle flame compared to the blazing sun of the Great Luo Sword Sect. How could they possibly resist? *Guo Xieyi, how could I have trusted you so blindly?* With bitter resentment, she glared at Guo before turning and stepping into the haunted lands of the Northern Demongate.

Behind her, the white-clad youth followed, his face a mask of grim determination.

The party from the Great Luo Sword Sect vanished into the thin, ethereal mists of the Demongate, their figures swallowed by the gloom.

Meanwhile, deep within the tangled mountain ranges of the Northern Demongate, Wang Lin drifted through the air, his hands clasped behind his back, his feet hovering three feet above the ground. His mind was consumed by the intricacies of the Slaughtering Immortal Arts, striving to understand how to transmute life force into the Seal of Life.

The surrounding mountains were eerily silent, devoid of any sound. As he continued his flight, a strange glimmer caught his eye in the shadows ahead. Simultaneously, a lightning-fast figure burst forth, hurtling directly towards him.

The figure moved with incredible speed, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. It was shrouded in a swirling cloud of black mist, and a nauseating stench of blood filled the air.

Wang Lin did not falter, nor did his expression change. As the shrouded figure approached, he flicked his fingers, a single point aimed directly at the oncoming darkness.

The touch pierced through the black mist, piercing directly through the figure.

A wisp of grey energy flickered from his fingertip, barely visible. It was fleeting, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared.

Only a tiny fraction of the energy actually entered the being hidden within the darkness.

From within the black mist came a sound like sizzling flesh, as if ice had met a roaring fire. The mist seemed to boil, rapidly dissipating, revealing the form of the creature within: a small beast, no larger than a clenched fist.

The creature had no limbs. Its entire body consisted of a gaping maw, devoid of teeth but emanating a pungent, corrosive odor. The saliva within was clearly deadly.

Wang Lin’s fingertip was now lodged directly within the creature’s body.

With a mere twitch of his finger, the tiny beast exploded into fragments, disappearing entirely.

Wang Lin withdrew his hand and continued on his way. As his finger was retracted, tendrils of faint grey energy lingered, swirling around the tip. “The Slaughtering Immortal Arts… gathering the power of life even within the act of destruction…” He gazed at the lingering energy, pondering. “Could this grey energy clinging to my fingertip be the very essence of life itself?” After a moment of silent contemplation, he resumed his flight.
The creeping tendrils of time unfurled, yet Wang Lin, though swift, ventured not too deep into the blighted lands. Instead, he wove a tapestry of his divine sense, a silken thread stretching back to the Da Luo Sword Sect who dared follow him into this forsaken realm. Not a breath, not a footfall of those interlopers escaped his unseen gaze.

Wang Lin sought the truth of the Glimmering Gold Fruit, a prize whispered to hold potent secrets. More than that, the elders of the Da Luo Sword Sect, those nascent cultivators of the Nascent Soul stage, would serve as the whetstone upon which he would hone his nascent Killing Immortal Art! No fondness did he hold for the Da Luo Sword Sect; only the grim purpose of a blade eager to taste blood.

As he traversed the jagged spine of the mountains, the grey tendrils upon his right forefinger thickened, coiling like phantoms made manifest, swirling with a silent, hungry energy.

The Demonic Northern Wastes teemed with beasts, yet few posed a true threat to Wang Lin. Were it not for the lure of the Glimmering Gold Fruit, he would have plunged into the abyss, testing his dark art against the mightiest denizens of this cursed domain.

One day, Wang Lin withdrew his finger from the brow of a Rampaging Bull Beast, a creature of formidable power equal to a Spirit Transformation cultivator. As he drew back, a miasma of grey energy erupted from the beast’s third eye, clinging to his finger like a spectral shroud. The beast shuddered, its savage eyes dimming until, with a final tremor, it crashed to the earth, lifeless.

Then, from the horizon, a black bolt of lightning tore through the air. A screech heralded the arrival of the Mosquito Beast, its grotesque form shimmering into existence before Wang Lin. Its monstrous proboscis pierced the skull of the fallen bull, draining it of marrow and essence, blood and vital spirit in a single, swift embrace.

Upon the blood-soaked earth lay only the skeletal husk of the Rampaging Bull Beast, its life extinguished.

The Mosquito Beast, satiated, emitted a wave of pale light. When the glow faded, the bristles upon its carapace seemed more sinister, more alien. Thrilled, the creature buzzed in a frenzy, circling Wang Lin in a dizzying dance.

Since their arrival, whenever a beast of Spirit Transformation or higher fell by Wang Lin’s hand, he would unleash the Mosquito Beast, allowing it to feast upon essence and core, fueling its insatiable growth. Were the Thunder Toad suited to such a feast, it too would join the grim banquet.

For the Mosquito Beast was a creature of the star-strewn void, a being whose origins lay beyond the petty squabbles of this mortal plane. Though fate had cast it upon the shores of Zhu Que Star’s Sea of Demonic Cultivation, its savage hunger surpassed any beast born of this world.

It was a creature of consumption, and all things, mortal or ethereal, were fodder for its ravenous maw. The more it devoured, the greater its power. In its service to Wang Lin, it had glutted itself on elixirs, celestial treasures, and the cores of fallen beasts. Though its power remained anchored in the Nascent Soul stage, even beasts of Spirit Transformation hesitated before its chilling aura.

Wang Lin stepped forward, and with a weightless grace, floated into the air. The Mosquito Beast, sensing his intent, fell silent and still, awaiting its master’s command.

Wang Lin gazed south. A faint smile played upon his lips. “The Glimmering Gold Fruit has been found… ” he murmured, his voice a silken thread in the wind.

With a thought, he commanded the Mosquito Beast. This time, it moved without sound, like a wraith gliding through the night, toward the south. Its eyes, however, burned with a crimson hunger, like twin embers glowing in the darkness.

Wang Lin had observed the changes in the Mosquito Beast. He sensed it teetering on the precipice of some great transformation. Each time it gorged itself upon the life force of a beast, pale light washed over its form, much like the strange, shimmering streaks it devoured in the Shattered Star Sea.

Gazing into those glowing, blood-red eyes, Wang Lin envisioned a terrifying vista.

Upon a vast and desolate world, an endless swarm of Mosquito Beasts, a cloud of chitin and hunger, their monstrous proboscises dripping with malice, their eyes burning with an infernal, all-consuming light…