Wang Lin had imparted the secrets of crafting Soul Banners to Ouyang Hua, yet within the cursed lands of the Spirit Wilds, materials were scarce, making their creation a treacherous endeavor.

Seeing this, Wang Lin, with his own hands, sought to overcome this deficiency. He spent countless hours pondering, eventually discovering a way to use the unique heartwood of the Gnarled Trees, combined with the hides of feral beasts and the land’s potent demonic essence. With the aid of arcane hand seals, he managed to craft a crude imitation of the Soul Banners.

These substitute banners, alas, could only contain fewer than ten souls. Thus, a Ten-Soul Banner was their ultimate form.

Yet, what they lacked in potency, they made up for in quantity. Ten of these banners, when unleashed in unison, were a match for half the power of a true Hundred-Soul Banner.

Moreover, Wang Lin wove a fatal flaw into the very essence of these imitations, a weakness known only to him. For the ancient art of soul manipulation was lost to this world, save for the knowledge held within Wang Lin’s mind.

He etched the method of their creation onto a jade slip, then summoned Ouyang Hua and the youth called Thirteen before him.

Thirteen, it was he whom Wang Lin had silently shadowed, possessed an inexplicable talent for the art of soul refinement. His rate of progress would have astounded even the long-dead genius, Duntian himself.

Thirteen stood before Wang Lin, radiating respect and awe for the man he now saw as a deity among mortals.

The more he delved into soul refinement, the greater his reverence grew. These last thirty moons, he had studied the craft tirelessly, concluding that its full potential would be earth-shattering.

“Ten-Soul Banner… Hundred-Soul Banner… Thousand-Soul Banner… Ten-Thousand Soul Banner… Hundred-Thousand Soul Banner…” Thirteen whispered, a fervent gleam igniting in his eyes.

Ouyang Hua, seasoned and worldly, stood beside him with a respectful demeanor.

Indeed, since Wang Lin had shared the secrets of soul refinement, the true power had gradually shifted from Ouyang Hua to him.

All within the valley knew that Wang Lin was the master of this domain.

“Celestial, of the tribe’s twenty-seven male warriors, all have taken to learning the demonic arts of soul refinement. Yet, save for Thirteen, most linger in the first stage, and six remain unable to grasp even its fundamentals,” Ouyang Hua reported.

Wang Lin nodded. Though seemingly simple at first, soul refinement was not easily mastered. That the majority of twenty-seven had entered the first stage would have caused quite a stir back in the world of Suzaku.

His eyes lingered on Thirteen, whose rapid progress pleased him greatly.

Sensing Wang Lin’s gaze, Thirteen straightened and declared, “Celestial, Thirteen has reached the third stage! Were Soul Banners crafted, I could seek out souls to imprison within them!”

Wang Lin smiled and summoned a jade slip from thin air. “The method for crafting the new banners lies within,” he said, tossing it to Thirteen.

The youth caught it eagerly, joy lighting his face. Following Ouyang Hua’s teachings, he held the slip to his brow and focused his mind. After a time, he shuddered, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

He fell to his knees, prostrating himself before Wang Lin, his head striking the ground thrice.

Wang Lin, his eyes closed, spoke softly, “Go now, and devote yourself to crafting the banners!” Thirteen nodded, placed the jade slip down, and departed.

Ouyang Hua hesitated, glancing from Wang Lin to the jade slip on the ground. Without express permission, he dared not touch it.

“Take it. You have also reached the third stage. If you craft the banners and imprison souls within them, your power will greatly increase,” Wang Lin said calmly.

Ouyang Hua snatched up the jade slip and held it to his brow. After a moment, he drew a deep breath and said respectfully, “I shall seek the materials for crafting the banners at once.”

After a short pause, he added, “Celestial, I propose that once Thirteen has also crafted his banners, we gather all those within the valley and assault the subterranean caverns a thousand leagues hence. Another tribe dwells there, numbering in the dozens.”

Wang Lin remained unfazed. “As you wish,” he said.

Ouyang Hua bowed and withdrew.

News of the assault spread like wildfire through the valley. It was to be a great battle, for the enemy outnumbered them, but with the arts of soul refinement, victory seemed assured.

For a moon’s turn, all the men within the valley trained without ceasing. Thirteen, in particular, ventured out to gather the necessary materials, his singular talent for soul refinement shining through.

After three failures, he finally crafted his first Soul Banner!

The event ignited a frenzy within the valley. Thirteen was swarmed by the others, the seven-foot banner in his hands becoming the object of their awe.

The attention thrilled him.

Ouyang Hua stroked his beard, a smile playing on his lips. In truth, he had crafted his own banners days before Thirteen, but he had not boasted, preferring to grant the youth this moment of glory.

The elder was wise enough to see that Wang Lin favored Thirteen. Moreover, Ouyang Hua knew his own time was ending, and that the future belonged to youths such as him.

“Little Thirteen, those banners are useless unless you ensnare a soul within them! When will you fetch us a soul to imprison?” someone cried.

Others chimed in in agreement.

Thirteen snorted. “Who says I do not yet possess a soul to bind? Observe!” He formed a hand seal, and a torrent of demonic energy coalesced, a flash of emerald light dancing at his fingertips.
He pointed a spectral finger at the Soul Banner, and it shuddered, as if struck by a sudden gust of wind. In that very instant, a tendril of black vapor erupted from the banner’s depths, coalescing mid-air into a monstrous beast resembling a lion with vast, leathery wings.

The creature, barely born of the swirling shadows, threw back its head and unleashed a deafening roar that echoed through the valley.

Ouyang Hua, his eyes narrowed, was visibly shaken by the display.

Thirteen, a smug grin plastered across his face, raised a hand and, with a flourish, commanded, “Attack!” The lion-like specter, its eyes gleaming with a predatory light, obeyed instantly. It lunged forward, crashing against the cliff face of the nearby valley wall. A thunderous boom ripped through the air as fissures spider-webbed across the stone.

Yet, the spectral lion appeared unscathed.

A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers. Their envious gazes fueled Thirteen’s pride.

This winged lion, he had stumbled upon it during his foray into the wilds. Critically wounded and at death’s door, Thirteen, gritting his teeth, had risked all, invoking the forbidden art of Soul Refinement. After countless perilous attempts, he had miraculously succeeded in wresting the beast’s soul from its mortal coil, imprisoning it within the Soul Banner.

Thirteen drew a deep breath, raised his right hand in a beckoning gesture, and commanded, “Return!”

He snapped the Soul Banner, expecting obedience. But the lion’s soul, a malevolent glint in its eyes, turned sharply. It fixed its gaze upon Thirteen, and a bestial snarl tore from its throat. With lightning speed, it did not fly towards the banner, but instead, hurtled directly toward its would-be master.

The malevolent glimmer in its eyes solidified into pure, unadulterated malice.

Thirteen’s face paled. Clutching the Soul Banner, he roared, “I command you, return!”

The spectral lion ignored his plea, a whirlwind of shadowy fury bearing down upon him.

A collective cry of alarm erupted from the surrounding crowd as they scattered. Ouyang Hua, his jaw tight with concern, lunged forward, his hand darting into his robes. He produced a small, three-inch banner.

With a flick of his wrist, a surge of emerald light pulsed from the banner, and a tiny bird, resembling a mere sparrow, materialized. With a shrill cry, it shot towards the spectral lion.

The lion, mid-charge, momentarily paused, turning its massive head to roar at the approaching sparrow. The sound, strangely resonant, seemed to momentarily falter the sparrow’s advance.

Seizing the opportunity, the lion’s soul became a blur of motion, closing the distance between itself and Thirteen in the blink of an eye. Its jaws, wide and menacing, opened, poised to devour him.

Thirteen’s face was ashen. He attempted to retreat, but an unseen force held him in place, rooted to the spot. He could only watch, helpless, as the cavernous maw grew larger, engulfing his entire vision.

Suddenly, a chilling hum, like the rumble of distant thunder, resonated from the depths of the valley.

“Fiend, dare you!” The words, as sharp and cold as a winter’s frost, followed the humming.

The sound was like a divine blessing to Thirteen’s ears. He cried out in a desperate plea, “Immortal, save me!”

But to the lion’s soul, the same sound was a thunderclap of doom. Its spectral form visibly shuddered, on the verge of collapsing.

The fact that it did not crumble entirely was not due to any inherent strength, but rather, due to the will of Wang Lin!

Its charge faltered to a halt. The lion’s soul let out a pitiful whimper, its eyes wide with terror. It spun about, ready to flee. Then, from the heart of the valley, a figure emerged.

With a single stride, Wang Lin traversed an impossible distance, appearing in mid-air before the trembling beast.

The lion’s soul quivered, for it could sense, with utter certainty, an immeasurable power radiating from the figure before it.

In the face of such might, it could muster no resistance. A chilling dread, primal and consuming, washed over it, threatening to drown its very essence.

The lion soul whimpered again, abandoning all thoughts of escape. Instead, it prostrated itself in the air, its posture an abject display of submission. The terror in its eyes was palpable.

This sight utterly stunned the onlookers.

Even Ouyang Hua, rendered speechless, felt a profound and overwhelming respect for Wang Lin. A respect that would endure for centuries to come. Thirteen, his eyes burning with fanaticism, gazed upon Wang Lin with unwavering reverence.

If these two were so affected, what could be said of the others? The reason for the lion’s abject terror was simple: the flaws Wang Lin had intentionally left within the Soul Banner and the refining technique!

All who learned his modified Soul Refinement technique, all who imprisoned souls within banners, were ultimately subject to Wang Lin’s control and dominion.