A spectral shade descended, and Wang Lin’s visage hardened. Without a word, he parted his lips and unleashed a jet of sable energy. In a flash, it transformed into a great banner, three fathoms in length. Wang Lin seized it, and with a flick before him, the few remaining Principal Souls, including the tattered soul of a Qilin, howled forth from within.

The onrushing wraith faltered, but its eyes blazed with an unholy light. Forgetting Wang Lin, it lunged instead for the Principal Souls, eager to devour them.

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. He sidestepped the phantom, his hand darting to his pouch. The Soul-Seizing Rings appeared, and with a flick of his wrist, he launched them forth. His right hand rose, a single finger aimed at the black-clad sorcerer!

The sorcerer’s face darkened. His left hand clawed at the air, attempting to grasp the shade. “Return!” he bellowed.

The wraith shrieked, seemingly against its will. The sorcerer cursed inwardly. He no longer had the luxury to control it, for Wang Lin was upon him, swift as lightning.

As Wang Lin’s fingertip pierced the void, the immortal force within him surged in reverse, coalescing into a point of pure energy.

The Demon-Turning Finger!

Second of the Three Killing Arts!

The heavens themselves recoiled as his finger struck. Limitless demonic energy erupted from within Wang Lin, gathering at the tip of his finger, flooding the surrounding space.

The disobedient wraith, no longer guided by the sorcerer, turned to Wang Lin’s unleashed souls. It saw them as succulent morsels, promising a surge of power if devoured.

“The Demon-Turning Finger!” the sorcerer exclaimed, recognizing the technique instantly. He had witnessed Wang Lin use it against Purple-Silk Fourth, a battle etched into the memories of all who had seen it.

The sorcerer’s eyes darted about. His right hand could not leave his chest, lest his spirit magic unravel. In this moment of peril, he retreated, expelling a cloud of black vapor from his mouth.

A reeking wind swept through the air as the poisonous mist spread, attempting to ensnare Wang Lin.

Wang Lin scoffed. Two grey runes blazed upon his brow, spreading to encompass his body – the Mark of Life, unveiled once more.

The moment it completed, Wang Lin became a streak of lightning, plunging into the toxic fog as a dragon dives into the sea. The poisons dissipated the instant they touched him.

The sorcerer continued his retreat, spewing forth an unending torrent of the black miasma, hoping to stem Wang Lin’s advance. He himself attempted a swift teleportation, aiming to reach the roaming wraith.

Yet, against all expectation, the poison proved a mere inconvenience to Wang Lin. The sorcerer barely flickered away when Wang Lin punched through the poisonous fog. The Demon-Turning Finger, potent with demonic energy, trailed behind him.

The sorcerer’s face twisted in dismay. Unable to dodge, his left hand rose in haste, forming a counter-spell. He thrust a finger forward, hoping to mitigate the attack.

In an instant, the two fingers met, though not entirely. A mere three inches separated them!

Within that space, another world bloomed.

Demonic energy poured forth from Wang Lin’s finger, clashing against the black power of the sorcerer, and a sphere of deepest black appeared between their hands.

From within this sphere, rumbling sounds like thunder emanated, punctuated by arcs of lightning that danced across its surface.

In that moment, the world seemed to freeze. All light converged upon Wang Lin and the black-clad sorcerer.

Wang Lin hung suspended in the void, his robes fluttering wildly despite the absence of wind. His long hair swirled around him, a dark halo.

In contrast, the sorcerer stood on solid ground, his face dark, his eyes crackling with energy. His left hand reached out, and his garments streamed behind him as if caught in a hurricane. Even his hair whipped wildly backward.

The sphere between their fingertips roared louder and louder. Wang Lin’s immortal force surged forth, converting into demonic energy that constantly poured into the sphere.

The sorcerer grimaced inwardly. He was forced to channel all of his refined Ghost Immortal power through his finger and into the sphere, lest he be overwhelmed and consumed by the opposing energy.

“With your meager Immortal force, at the mid-stage of Nascent Soul, you cannot hope to match my peak!” The sorcerer thought furiously to Wang Lin. “Since you wish to oppose me in this manner, let us see who lives and who dies!”

“Your Celestial Ghoul is cut off from you, and has its hands full with my own souls! How can you hope to fight on?” Wang Lin’s eyes blazed.

The sorcerer snarled. He glared at Wang Lin. Gritting his teeth, he abruptly lifted his right hand from his chest. As he did, the Ghoul, which was fighting against the souls suddenly looked up at him and snarled.

The sorcerer paused, then yanked his hand away from his chest. Black tendrils stretched like spider silk between his chest and his hand.

As his right hand was lifted away, the Ghoul roared in defiance, its voice filled with resentment. Its form began to fade, but even as it did, its eyes flickered with a strange light. It gazed at the sorcerer, then at Wang Lin. It seemed to come to a decision. Before it vanished, a black aura pulsed from within.

The sorcerer recoiled. At that moment, the black light from the Ghoul erupted. Enshrouded in its darkness, the Ghoul did not vanish. Instead, it wheeled around, tore through the turbulent spiritual energy, and fled into the distance.

The Principal Souls pursued it, vanishing in the creature’s wake.
The events unfolded with blinding speed, enough to momentarily stun the black-robed sorcerer. But that shock swiftly morphed into a furious roar. His eyes, bloodshot with rage, locked onto Wang Lin. “It is you!” he howled. “Had you not shackled me, the Ghost Fiend would never have escaped!”

Wang Lin’s gaze was like glacial ice. “Deservedly so,” he stated coldly.

Murder burned in the sorcerer’s eyes, twisting his features into a grotesque mask. “Insolent whelp! You are marked for death!” He inhaled deeply. Freed from the Fiend’s leeching, the infernal energies he had cultivated through his forbidden arts surged within him. He channeled it all, a torrent of Ghost Immortal power, through his finger into the orb.

“Wang Lin, prepare to perish!” With a final, guttural cry, he poured almost every shard of his essence into the sphere. The resulting crackle of thunder within the orb shook the very heavens. It seemed that the arcane power coalescing between their fingertips was not of this world, but a fragment of the legendary Celestial Tribulation lightning.

As the sorcerer’s dark energies flooded the orb, Wang Lin felt his own celestial power begin to falter. The small sphere, with terrifying momentum, slowly encroached upon him.

A triumphant, savage grin spread across the sorcerer’s face. He envisioned Wang Lin struck by the orb, his body annihilated, his flesh and bone scattered to the winds. He pictured even his very soul obliterated, reduced to nothingness, banished from the cycle of rebirth, his existence forever erased from the cosmos.

Oblivion. Annihilation. The complete erasure of all trace.

But then, a flicker of bewilderment crossed the sorcerer’s face. He stared at Wang Lin, and in his eyes, he saw not fear, not even cold indifference, but an odd expression, a mocking amusement, a silent scorn.

This unsettling look sent a tremor of unease through him.

Wang Lin, without even glancing at the menacing orb, uttered a simple command: “Spirit Lance Chariot, Unleash!”

The words had barely left his lips when a thunderous roar, echoing defiance against the very heavens, ripped through the air from the location where Wang Lin had cast his beast-taming circlet.

It was a sound worthy of an ancient behemoth, one who dared challenge the sky, devour immortals, and forever refuse to bow.

The sorcerer’s face paled with sudden terror.

With the roar came the immense form of the Soul Beast. Barely manifested, it bellowed again, an echoing display of raw power.

Wang Lin barked, “Kill him!”

The monstrous creature, its eyes gleaming with a predatory light, fixed its gaze upon Wang Lin.

Knowing the beast’s often willful nature, Wang Lin was prepared. He inhaled sharply and uttered a single word.

The word was complex, obscure, unintelligible to any common ear. But this word was one of the Nine True Words, gleaned from the Immortal Jade Scroll after inheriting the beast-taming circlet!

These nine syllables were specifically designed to control the beast, each one unlocking a deeper level of dominion.

For what immortal, forging a treasure of such magnitude, would not guard against its treachery with careful preparations?

At the utterance of the single, potent word, the defiant beast shuddered. Its savage gaze flickered, then locked onto the black-robed sorcerer. With a roar that seemed to unleash all its pent-up fury, it charged.

From the beast’s sudden appearance to its attack, all occurred in a blinding instant.

The Soul Beast, bellowing with unrestrained fury, moved with lightning speed toward the sorcerer.

The sorcerer’s face was a mask of unprecedented fear. He frantically poured every ounce of his Ghost Immortal energy into the orb, knowing that to falter, to dodge, would mean the immediate and devastating backlash of the destructive force he had conjured.

Yet now, the ravenous Soul Beast bore down upon him. To not dodge meant certain death. Cold sweat trickled down the sorcerer’s face. He gritted his teeth, casting a venomous glance at Wang Lin. With lightning speed, he raised his left hand and slammed it against his own forehead.

His body convulsed, and his spirit, his nascent soul, ripped free from its mortal shell and fled into the distance with frantic desperation.

The moment his soul abandoned the flesh, his body, bereft of animation, collapsed to the ground, a lifeless husk. The orb, which had been relentlessly bearing down on Wang Lin, faltered, then with renewed vigor, hurtled toward the sorcerer’s fallen corpse.