From the heart of the Soul-Refining Tribe they emerged, one by one. No single being could claim to be the first, yet one knelt upon the hallowed ground, and in swift succession, the entire tribe followed suit. With bowed heads, they offered silent veneration towards the direction in which Wang Lin had departed.

For in their hearts, Wang Lin was not merely a leader, but the very patriarch of their bloodline, the ancestor of the Soul-Refining Tribe. So long as he drew breath, the tribe would never face oblivion.

Ouyang Hua knelt as well, the passage of four years flashing before his mind’s eye like a fleeting dream. In those years, his cultivation had surged forward with astonishing speed, a feat he often pondered upon, wondering if it was truly his reality.

Gazing upon the tribe of over five thousand souls standing beside him, Ouyang Hua could only describe his feelings for Wang Lin as pure reverence.

With each step, Wang Lin distanced himself from the kneeling throng, until at last, he vanished from their sight. Yet, not a single member of the tribe stirred, remaining in their solemn posture.

Ten leagues beyond the boundaries of the Soul-Refining Tribe, Wang Lin invoked his storage pouch. In a flash of amethyst and gold, a monstrous beast materialized in the air. Ten fathoms in length, its body shone with metallic hues, dominated by a fearsome proboscis radiating an aura of primal power.

It was the Mosquito Beast!

Awakened a year past the Ox, its power had grown beyond all reckoning. Even seasoned cultivators of the Spirit Transformation stage would find themselves hard-pressed in battle against it.

Wang Lin, through careful observation, determined that the beast was nearing the pinnacle of the Spirit Transformation realm.

This ascent was not solely attributable to the power of the Gold element, but also to the unique physiology of the Mosquito Beast. Within the shimmering of its amethyst-gold hide, an aura akin to the king of beasts faintly pulsed, so subtle as to evade casual notice.

From the memories of the Ancient God Tu Si, Wang Lin knew that these creatures were not solitary wanderers, but existed in vast swarms across the starry expanse. And where there were swarms, there was surely a leader.

This beast was evolving towards that apex, the position of the pack leader, though it still had a vast distance to traverse.

For the swarms of Mosquito Beasts of old were so formidable that even the Ancient God Tu Si had been forced to retreat in disarray.

As the Mosquito Beast manifested, it unleashed a piercing shriek that tore through the air. Thirteen and Tiger Roar both paled, their cultivation proving insufficient to withstand the sonic force.

After the cry subsided, the Mosquito Beast lowered itself before Wang Lin, nuzzling him with its massive proboscis, its eyes filled with an eager light.

Wang Lin smiled faintly and ran a hand across the beast’s armored back. With a single bound, he settled into a cross-legged position upon its back.

“You two, come up as well!” Wang Lin spoke plainly.

Thirteen gritted his teeth, determined to avoid any appearance of weakness before his ancestor. With a leap, he landed upon the beast’s back. The moment his feet touched down, a wave of icy energy surged through him, bypassing his formidable physical defenses.

A tremor ran through his body as a wave of numbing pain washed over him. Only his indomitable will prevented him from collapsing.

Seeing Thirteen’s ascent, Tiger Roar was loath to be outdone. Summoning his courage, he too vaulted onto the Mosquito Beast’s back, instantly assailed by the same frigid aura.

Barely managing to remain upright, Tiger Roar could only grimace, acknowledging the vast power of his ancestor. Even the beasts he commanded possessed a formidable power, inspiring awe and fear.

Observing the reactions of Thirteen and Tiger Roar, a flicker of approval touched Wang Lin’s eyes. With a thought, he spurred the Mosquito Beast, which unleashed a deafening roar and shot forward like a bolt of lightning.

A tempestuous gale crashed against the three figures. Wang Lin felt no discomfort, but instead, a peculiar sense of comfort.

But Thirteen and Tiger Roar fared less well, battered as if caught in the heart of a hurricane. One misstep would send them tumbling into the abyss.

Thirteen roared and circulated his demon energy, using his physical prowess to mitigate the wind’s assault. Tiger Roar closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, utilizing his own demon energy to resist the relentless storm.

The distance to the Ancient Demon City spanned thirty million leagues. Even at the Mosquito Beast’s velocity, it would take considerable time to traverse. Wang Lin felt no urgency, and thus refrained from expending his celestial power on the Great Teleportation technique.

As the Mosquito Beast tore across the heavens, countless tribes below activated their defensive formations. In their eyes, the beast was a force of nature, its sheer speed creating a sonic boom in its wake. Its passage resembled a falling thunderbolt, the rumbling sound preceding its arrival with a terrifying grandeur.

When Wang Lin first entered this Demon Spirit Land, he had been unaware of the existence of the tribes and their hidden formations. Now, with a greater understanding of the land, he gazed down and saw countless settlements.

These tribes varied in strength and size, their populations differing greatly.

“If my Soul-Refining Tribe could consume and integrate all the tribes of this Demon Spirit Land, the resulting power would surely shock even the nine counties of the Demon Spirit Realm!” Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed with ambition.

Seven days later, the Ancient Demon City loomed in the distance. A hundred leagues from the city, Wang Lin recalled the Mosquito Beast and brought Thirteen and Tiger Roar down to the earth.

Thirteen’s nature was one of quiet composure. Despite the fact that he had never ventured more than a few thousand leagues from his tribe, he now stood thirty million leagues away. While he had never dared to dream that one day he’d journey so far, he repressed his excitement, and with a blank expression revealed nothing of what he was feeling.

In that moment, his demeanor mirrored Wang Lin’s, and in fact, the last four years of his life had been spent in such a way. His respect for Wang Lin had caused him to imitate his behavior, either consciously or not.

This place, within countless miles, was a city of the Sky Demon County, the Ancient Demon City!

For all tribal people, the Ancient Demon City was a place of sacredness, a place of holiness, a place of dreams.
But all this held sway over the Thirteen of four years past. This Thirteen, however, revered Wang Lin as his celestial authority, the mountain valley of his tribe as his hallowed ground. His ultimate dream was nothing less than Wang Lin’s recognition!

As for Hu Pao, he paled in comparison to Thirteen. Upon first glimpse of the ancient demon city, he instinctively knelt, lost in silent worship.

Only moments later did he regain his senses, scrambling to his feet, shame etching itself upon his features. Seeing Thirteen’s impassive countenance, devoid of the fervent awe that gripped him, he felt further diminished. With a deep breath, he spat towards the ancient city, muttering under his breath, the reverence vanished, replaced by disdain.

Wang Lin, witnessing the contrasting reactions of Thirteen and Hu Pao, smiled faintly. With a single stride, he moved forward, becoming as a wisp of azure smoke, drifting onward.

Thirteen and Hu Pao followed closely behind.

The leagues between them and the city vanished swiftly beneath their feet. The ancient demon city loomed before them, palpable!

The city was immense, its boundaries lost to the horizon. Never had Wang Lin seen such a vast expanse. But after traversing the stars, his gaze encompassed planets and nebulae. Even this great city dwindled into insignificance.

Entering its gates, Wang Lin did not suppress his celestial power. With unhurried grace, he strode forward.

The northern gate thronged with travelers, guarded by sentinels.

Wang Lin understood that in the world of cultivators, strength dictated all. Undue modesty was often a hindrance. The queue snaked far, and waiting would surely consume hours.

He chose to bypass the throng, heading directly for the gate. Thirteen and Hu Pao remained at his heels, Thirteen stoic and unyielding, while a faint tremor of apprehension touched Hu Pao’s features.

Wang Lin’s sudden approach did not escape the notice of the city guards, demon soldiers serving under the left wing demon general’s command.

Each possessed cultivation akin to a Foundation Establishment cultivator. They saw in Wang Lin only a common barbarian, devoid of demonic energy.

But Thirteen and Hu Pao, behind him, pulsed with palpable demonic power, clearly ranking above the third tier.

That such beings served as attendants made Wang Lin appear all the more enigmatic in the guards’ eyes. But even so, it was not enough to make them forsake their duty.

As Wang Lin approached, one of the guards, clad in black armor and wielding a long spear, stepped forward. He swept the spear across the path, his voice a chilling command: “Stand back!”

“Insolence!” Before Wang Lin could speak, Thirteen surged forward, unleashing a fist that blazed with righteous fury. In his heart, Wang Lin was the embodiment of divine authority. Any slight against him was a challenge, a declaration of war.

He held nothing back. The Titan clan’s body refinement techniques had rendered his flesh as unyielding as tempered steel. His fist became as a flying blade, cleaving the air with a thunderous roar, warping the very space around it, tendrils of power reaching for the demon soldier.

The guard’s face paled. Thirteen’s fist was a meteor in his eyes, carrying within it a strange and terrible force. He sought to evade it, but found himself bound by an invisible power, as if struggling through deep water.

But the guard was a veteran warrior, seasoned by countless battles. In this moment of dire peril, he held his spear before him, bracing himself.

Thirteen’s fist crashed upon the spear with a deafening crack. The spear shattered, exploding into splinters, as if pulverized by a titan’s hammer.

The demon soldier’s face drained of color. Though the invisible shackles released him, he stumbled backwards several paces, barely maintaining his footing, a trickle of blood staining his lips.

Had not the other guards rushed to his aid, he surely would have been gravely injured. Even those who supported him recoiled, their faces taut with pain, the strain of bearing the impact evident.