To discern the secrets of the Blood Soul Pill, a knowledge seemingly possessed by the unassuming Cao Yidou, was itself a matter of no small wonder. Stranger still, the man claimed this recognition was common amongst all cultivators.

At once, a cold certainty settled upon Wang Lin. This was no mere chance, but a deliberate machination of the Blood Ancestor himself!

“Weaving together the carefree demeanor of Yao Xixue with the words of Cao Yidou, I am certain: these Blood Soul Pills hold truth and falsehood both. Yet the means to distinguish one from the other remains a secret guarded jealously by the Blood Ancestor and his daughter, known to no other soul in this world,” Wang Lin mused, a spark of keen understanding flickering in his eyes.

“This pill is a forgery! The true draught grants a second life, while this imitation…it heralds only death. Yao Xixue, since you deal in such dark arts, do not curse Wang Lin for his own cold resolve!” He gazed at the waxen sphere in his hand, an impulse rising to crush it. Yet a second thought took hold, and he secreted it within his storage bag.

Centuries had Wang Lin walked the path of cultivation, surviving to this day with formidable powers, and his cunning mind played no small part in his triumphs. Even in his nascent days as a Core Formation cultivator, the Eight Extremes Devil Lord had seen it plain: this child possessed a ruthless heart, an audacious spirit, and an unwavering resolve. He was cold, merciless, courageous beyond measure, meticulous in his planning, possessed of an unyielding will, and as cunning as the wiliest fox.

Such stark words laid bare the essence of Wang Lin’s very being.

To glean such a truth from a mere expression on Yao Xixue’s face and commonplace words from Cao Yidou was a feat beyond the reach of most seasoned cultivators. Only those ancient beings, wizened by millennia of existence, who had plumbed the depths of the human heart, could hope to see so much in so little.

Just as he had deciphered the truth behind Liu Mei’s Thousand Illusions Emotionless Dao on Vermillion Bird Star, discerning her artifice from the subtle inconsistencies in the personalities of her two female disciples. Though the heavens had not gifted Wang Lin with peerless aptitude for cultivation, the trials of time had forged in him a sagacity born of hard-won experience, a keenness of mind that balanced the scales of fate.

With a beckoning gesture of his right hand, the storage bag left behind by Yao Xixue flew into his grasp. A sweep of his divine sense confirmed its contents: the Immortal Jade was indeed sufficient to fuel his ascension to the late stage of Infant Transformation, as the woman had promised.

“Three days,” Wang Lin breathed, and without another word, he pressed his left hand firmly against the earth.

A flash of darkness erupted, and in an instant, he vanished into the depths below.

Deep beneath the surface, Wang Lin sat in meditative stillness, eyes tightly shut. Around him, like a hoard of treasure, lay the Immortal Jade from Yao Xixue’s storage bag. He drew upon their essence with ravenous hunger, reducing them to mere dust as he siphoned their power.

To advance to the late stage of Infant Transformation demanded an immeasurable amount of Immortal Jade. Without rest or respite, Wang Lin focused his entire being upon the task, channeling the surging immortal energy into his body. He had no time for gradual integration, instead utilizing the structure of the Demonic Crystal, a technique learned long ago in the Soul Refining Tribe, to accumulate this power.

His long study of the Demonic Crystal had granted him a perfect understanding of its inner workings. If demonic energy could be crystallized, then surely immortal energy could be as well.

Before, he had hesitated to waste such precious jade in experimentation, but now, with a sufficient supply at his command, he embarked upon his endeavor. As the immortal energy reached a critical mass within him, a transformation began.

Constantly solidifying and compressing, a single crystal, identical in structure to a Demonic Crystal but radiating an otherworldly aura, formed within Wang Lin’s very being.

This single Immortal Crystal contained a tenth of the immortal power held within all the Immortal Jade he had taken from Yao Xixue.

The absorption continued, unwavering.

Three days passed. The hour of the Crimson Moon approached. Upon Drum Mountain, a league beyond the military camp, Yao Xixue stood patiently. The moonlight was tinged with violet, casting an eerie glow upon the land.

Her gaze swept the distant horizon, a trace of impatience tugging at her features.

“The appointed hour nears. Has the man abandoned our agreement?” Her brow furrowed in concern.

Suddenly, a streak of vibrant color appeared in the distance, hurtling towards her like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes widened with relief as the radiant arc swept across the sky, landing atop the mountain with a graceful flourish. From its heart emerged Wang Lin, clad in attire identical to her own: pristine white robes that fluttered in the wind, lending him an air of captivating elegance.

“You arrive precisely on time. I must now activate the array, lest our actions be discovered,” Yao Xixue declared, tapping her storage bag. From within, she produced a collection of crimson statuettes.

Each figure was small, no larger than three inches, and carved into the likeness of monstrous beasts that Wang Lin had never before encountered. A palpable aura of blood emanated from each one.

Yao Xixue began to weave arcane hand seals, murmuring a complex incantation. She then bit her tongue, drawing forth a drop of blood to trace a sigil in the air. With a final strike, the sigil expanded, growing to a hundred yards in size before imprinting itself upon the surface of Drum Mountain.

At the same moment, the statuettes stirred to life, moving of their own volition to occupy seven points around the perimeter. With a surge of crimson light, they sank into the earth.

As the statuettes vanished, a wave of strange power washed over Drum Mountain. Wang Lin observed closely. The sigil was merely a conduit, a focus for the true power, which resided within the seven statuettes.

The power was invisible and intangible. Only by standing within a hundred yards of the array could Wang Lin sense its presence.

He unleashed his divine sense, but found, to his utter astonishment, that he could not perceive himself!

In all his years of cultivation, he had never encountered such a phenomenon. It was as if his divine sense was an alien entity, capable of perceiving all things but utterly unable to locate his own presence within the confines of Drum Mountain.

The effect was akin to standing before a mirror, seeing all that was reflected within, yet finding no trace of oneself within the silvered glass.

“Do not waste your energy trying to find yourself. Only a cultivator of Demon Commander rank can perceive this array.”

Yao Xixue’s voice was cold and certain.

Wang Lin withdrew his divine sense, deeply impressed by the power of the formation. “Was this array created by your father, the Blood Ancestor?”

“Indeed,” she replied, retrieving a crimson compass from her storage bag. After determining its proper alignment, she placed it upon the ground, turning to face Wang Lin.

“Remember our agreement. When the Crimson Moon reaches its peak, the compass will emit a pulse of crimson light. You must follow closely behind me, for the opportunity lasts but a moment.”

Wang Lin nodded in understanding, offering no further words.
The words of Yao Xixue, though soft, held the weight of ages. “Upon my return,” she vowed, her gaze unwavering, “I shall relinquish the remaining celestial jade, and the Blood Lord’s token to your keeping. Furthermore, the true path to unlock the power of the Blood Soul Pill will be unveiled.”

As she spoke, a terrible omen painted the heavens. The demon moon, usually a baleful crimson, was consumed by a violet tide, mirroring the legendary Sky-Devouring Hound of mortal realms. The unnatural violet cascaded downwards, bathing the land in an oppressive hue, as if the very world had been draped in royal mourning.

Beneath this eerie canopy, the geomantic compass upon the ground blazed to life. Crimson light, like the lifeblood of the earth, erupted from its glyphs, a defiant surge against the encroaching violet. Though dwarfed by the pervasive color, its crimson tenacity shone with unyielding resolve.

“Go!” Yao Xixue commanded, her voice a sharp, piercing cry. She moved with impossible speed, dissolving into the crimson radiance. Wang Lin, his eyes gleaming with a chilling resolve, mirrored her swiftness, following close on her heels, disappearing into the light.

In the blink of an eye, the crimson glow vanished, taking with it the compass, leaving no trace upon the violet-tinged earth. Slowly, grudgingly, the violet receded, drawn back into the demon moon, until at last, the land was free.

The Ascension of the Violet Fiend, a harrowing spectacle repeated every six months, had passed once more.

The disorientation of a teleportation array was no stranger to Wang Lin. Having weathered its discomforts countless times, he had developed a strong resilience. As he entered the crimson light, he instantly recognized the mark of a point-to-point transposition.

It was evident that at a location designated by Yao Xixue, a beacon had been meticulously crafted. Activating this singular nexus allowed passage from virtually any location, so long as it was within the boundaries of the Demon Spirit Land.

Following the fleeting unease of the translocation, Wang Lin saw beneath him, swirling rivers of crimson energy, resembling nothing so much as flowing blood, intertwined in a complex array. Yao Xixue, slightly slower to recover, found the bloody patterns already fading by the time she regained her composure.

“The configuration of this array bears a striking resemblance to the glyphs etched upon the statues,” Wang Lin mused, his voice a quiet assessment. “Clearly the work of a single hand. The Blood Ancestor was no ordinary being. To craft a teleportation array in this forsaken place…yet, given time, I believe I could weave such a portal myself.” His gaze swept the surroundings, unreadable.

He found himself in a space akin to a star-strewn abyss. There was no earth, no sky, only an infinite expanse of shimmering stars casting their ethereal glow upon all.

A narrow pathway, barely ten paces across, snaked its way into the distance, a lone trail through the cosmic sea. But this path was not fixed; it swayed and undulated with a rhythmic pulse.

Wang Lin stood upon a circular platform, perhaps a hundred paces in diameter, where the teleportation array had been subtly etched.

It was clear that Yao Xixue had journeyed here before. She sat cross-legged upon the platform, her voice calm. “Center yourself,” she instructed, her eyes closed. “Embrace your inner essence, for only by acquiring the Brand of Worthiness can you tread upon the Path of the Venerated Beast.” With these words, she fell silent, drawing inward, her breath deep and measured.

Wang Lin, however, continued to survey their surroundings. He walked towards the far edge of the platform and stopped at the precipice, staring into the abyss where the serpentine path began.

As he gazed, his eyes widened, a shock echoing in his soul. This was no mere path; it was the body of a colossal, serpentine beast, so vast its true size defied comprehension. Remembering Yao Xixue’s words, Wang Lin realized this creature was the Venerated Beast.

“There is no mention of such a creature in the memories of the Ancient God Tu Si,” he thought, his mind racing. “Either the knowledge was lost to him, or this being emerged after his time. What is this place, that such a titan could dwell here? This realm was not born of chance, but woven through immense power. What being possesses such mastery, that they could use the body of this beast as a pathway?”

Wang Lin drew a sharp breath. His eyes flickered as he glanced back at Yao Xixue. “I must find a way,” he resolved, “to glean the secrets of this place from her lips.”

He hesitated, then settled into a meditative posture, preparing to delve into his inner world. But as he closed his eyes, a thought struck him with the force of lightning.