“What is there to see? The man is worthless,” sneered a middle-aged warrior, his eyes glinting with disdain. He, like many others, held the new commander in utter contempt, a sentiment born not of personal experience, but of a deep-seated prejudice against all outsiders.

“You err, Sun Captain,” countered a hoary elder, seated to Sima Yan’s left. Though age had etched lines upon his face, his black armor spoke of unwavering strength. “This new commander possesses a cunning mind. To remain so still and silent these past days is no ordinary feat.”

The Sun Captain scoffed. “You make too much of nothing!”

Whispers concerning Wang Lin rippled through the encampment, yet no consensus could be reached. Sima Yan, rubbing his temples, finally declared, “Enough! Mark my words, avoid provoking him in these coming days. No one can maintain such tranquility forever. When he finally makes his move, then we shall have our opportunity.”

Time flowed onward, and Wang Lin remained in the military camp, seated in meditation for a fortnight. Throughout those days, he made no overt action, but merely breathed and gathered his strength. The camp became his sanctuary.

Thirteen mirrored his master’s calm, joining him in meditative breaths. But within the heart of the beast-man, Tiger Roar, the embers of rage began to ignite. Only restraint kept him from unleashing his soul banner and engaging in bloody battle.

Wang Lin’s tranquility only served to deepen the contempt of the ten thousand demon soldiers. He, however, remained oblivious.

One day, as the Sun Captain led his thousand-strong unit in drills past Wang Lin’s meditation spot, he spat upon the ground, his disdain palpable. “Worthless!” he roared.

The demon soldiers erupted in laughter, their scorn echoing through the air.

As the spittle landed, Wang Lin’s eyes snapped open. His gaze was calm, his voice even. “Sun Captain, what was that?”

The Sun Captain faltered, surprised by Wang Lin’s first words in weeks. A sneer twisted his lips. “I called you worthless, dog.”

The words were barely out when Wang Lin’s eyes flashed, and a subtle smile played upon his lips. With lightning speed, his right hand shot out. The very air around them seemed to constrict, and an invisible force seized the Sun Captain, dragging him from afar.

The captain’s face contorted in surprise and rage as he struggled, but the unseen force held him in an iron grip. In an instant, he was before Wang Lin, the commander’s hand clamping around his throat. The touch was like the gate of death, choking the life from him.

Though his face was now flushed and purple, he glared defiantly at Wang Lin, refusing to believe this outsider would dare strike him down. Yet a seed of fear began to sprout in his heart. To be so utterly powerless against this man… not even Sima Yan could boast of such strength.

Seeing their captain seized, the thousand black-armored demon soldiers surged forward. Wang Lin’s eyes blazed. “Thirteen, the Heavenly Demon Legion’s eighth decree. Recite it!”

Thirteen, having diligently studied the jade scroll, answered immediately, “Insubordination shall be met with death!”

A chill ran down the Sun Captain’s spine. He tried to speak, to protest, but Wang Lin’s grip choked off his words.

A cruel smile touched Wang Lin’s lips. With a sudden, brutal twist, he snapped the captain’s neck. Even as the sound echoed, Wang Lin unleashed his celestial power, channeling it into the captain’s body, shattering his cultivation in an instant.

Disbelief lingered in the Sun Captain’s eyes even as life fled from them. He had never imagined the new commander would actually kill him.

Wang Lin inhaled deeply, drawing the lingering demon energy from the corpse. It happened so swiftly, all within the space of Thirteen’s declaration.

The onrushing soldiers halted, their faces a mask of fury. Some, the more cautious, cast wary glances at Wang Lin.

Casting the corpse before the demon soldiers, Wang Lin fixed them with an icy stare, saying nothing.

The sight of the Sun Captain’s lifeless eyes ignited a fire within the soldiers he had led. “Brothers, avenge our captain!” someone roared.

A great cry rose from the ranks, and more than half charged forward, their demonic power surging. They saw Wang Lin as their enemy.

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. “Insubordination!”

A predatory smile graced his lips as he reached into his storage bag. In a flash, his celestial sword appeared. With a sweeping arc, a blade of light cleaved through the air, followed by a curved blade that tore into the ranks of the demon soldiers.
A chorus of agonizing screams tore through the air as the celestial sword, with its radiant blade, effortlessly cleaved through the ranks of the demon soldiers. These creatures, whose power barely rivaled the nascent Golden Core cultivators, were mere playthings. With a flash, a curved scimitar sang its deadly song, and yet another demonic head tumbled to the dust.

The chaos in this sector of the encampment did not escape the notice of the other squads within the Third Battalion. Their eyes turned, questioning, to their own troop leaders. Nine of these captains, guardians of the remaining legions within the war camp, surged forward, their demonic troops clamoring in their wake.

“Halt!” The roar of command, filled with barely contained fury, echoed from one of the nine captains.

The distance of a hundred leagues was a trifle to such beings. Before long, a billowing cloud of dust marked the arrival of nine thousand demonic soldiers, a tide of fury crashing towards Wang Lin.

He, however, spared them not a glance. Instead, he spread his arms wide, summoning a vortex of celestial and demonic energies within his core. With a mighty inhalation, the demonic essence of the slain hundreds was ripped from their lifeless forms. It coalesced, a spectral whirlwind swirling around Wang Lin, drawn inexorably into his being.

The raw demonic power, thick enough to taste upon the air, formed a raging hurricane, with Wang Lin at its very heart. As the vanguard of the nine thousand neared, he completed his absorption. With a single gesture, he summoned his blade and scimitar, which returned to him in a dance of silver and shadow, their song a mournful dirge for the fallen.

Of the thousand warriors under the command of Captain Sun, already more than half lay slain. The survivors, driven back by the terrifying display, found their fury replaced by a nascent fear, a chilling premonition of the doom to come.

The nine captains, clad head to toe in obsidian armor, approached cautiously, their gazes fixed upon the carnage that had befallen Sun’s command.

The nine thousand soldiers, a vast tide of demonic might, spread out, encircling Wang Lin in a deadly embrace. But this was no mere encirclement, but a carefully woven array, its killing intent focused solely upon him.

Thirteen and Hu Pao, their eyes burning with a cold light, rose to their feet. Hu Pao, with a predatory glint in his eye, licked his lips, unfurling his spectral soul banners. Wang Lin, however, remained seated, unmoved by the encroaching doom. Even as he unleashed his deadly power, he had not risen. Now, surrounded by nine thousand foes, he spoke with the same unruffled calm, “Do you, too, intend to defy your superior?”

The nine captains felt a chill grip their hearts. The gore, the severed limbs, the scattered heads – it was all a stark reminder of the terror they faced. The implications of Wang Lin’s words hung heavy in the air, and they exchanged uneasy glances.

Suddenly, a furious roar echoed from afar. Sima Yan, like a tempestuous wind, burst through the lines, leaping over countless soldiers until he stood before Wang Lin. The sight of the carnage before him turned his face a mask of grim fury.

He had been deep in meditation when the commotion had reached him. Cutting short his practice, he sent word of the disturbance through secret channels to the military advisor, allowing Wang Lin to be encircled before making his appearance.

“Commander,” Sima Yan’s voice was a low growl, “regardless of the circumstances, you have slain Captain Sun and butchered his troops. This is a matter I cannot ignore!”

Wang Lin smiled, his composure unwavering. “Thirteen, recite Article Thirteen of the Sky Demon Army Code.”

Thirteen intoned, “Those who raise an army and surround their superior shall have thirty breaths to disperse. Should they fail to do so, they shall be slain.”

“Now, Article Two.”

“Those who, without explicit authorization, deploy a诛仙级别 (诛仙級別) [诛 (zhū) meaning exterminate/kill, 仙 (xiān) meaning immortal/celestial, 级别 (jíbié) meaning level/rank/grade/class] level formation against their own kind shall have twenty breaths to dismantle it, lest they be deemed guilty of a grave offense!”

Wang Lin’s expression remained unchanged, but Sima Yan’s face grew darker with each word. He realized then that Wang Lin had been biding his time, waiting for the precise moment to unleash a storm of consequences from which none could escape.

Three of the nine captains, seized by sudden prudence, hastily retreated. They exchanged meaningful glances, revealing their shared apprehension. They wanted no part in this perilous power struggle.

“Thirteen, begin the countdown,” Wang Lin said, closing his eyes, his gaze never straying to Sima Yan.

Thirteen, his voice as level as ever, began, “Thirteen breaths have passed… Sixteen… Fifteen… Fourteen… Thirteen…”