In the shadowed heart of Tian Yao County’s ancient battlefield, within the obsidian spire, a pair of spectral lights ignited within the helm of a suit of ancient armor.

“The Ascendant Throne has just been claimed, yet the nascent vital essence remains unbound. Forty-nine days are required for its final consolidation, a span for which I have waited a decade.” As the spectral gleam within the helm flickered, a thunderous rumble echoed across the skies above the tower. Simultaneously, a colossal vortex of sable hue materialized, its swirling depths threatening to consume all existence. The heavens themselves recoiled, and the countless souls trapped within the battlefield trembled before its power.

The spectral lights within the armor flared, and a domineering divine sense swept forth, engulfing the ancient battlefield. Beneath the ravaged soil, long-dormant secrets stirred. From several points, the earth parted, and black bones clawed their way towards the surface, rising to meet the ominous sky.

These fragmented bones coalesced in mid-air, swiftly forming a skeletal arm of ebony hue. This macabre limb drifted towards the obsidian spire, halting beneath the swirling vortex, awaiting its master’s command.

“My accumulated power is meager and must not be squandered. Furthermore, this chosen one resides in a place I wish not to tread!” The spectral lights within the armor pulsed once more. A section of the gauntlet detached itself from the whole, emanating waves of infernal energy. It soared forth from the tower, drawn towards the skeletal hand above.

The moment the gauntlet made contact, it clasped onto the bone, binding itself tightly. In that instant, the skeletal arm was transformed. A surge of formidable arcane power coursed through its form, solidifying its purpose.

“Go forth,” commanded the spectral voice, “and bring back the essence!” With a tremor, the arm surged towards the vortex, vanishing into its depths.

“Only those who have touched the Ascendant Throne possess such potent essence. Alas, my wounds are too grievous to extract it from one so far, whose very soul is intertwined with it. I am left with no choice but to seize the essence at the moment of their breakthrough.” The armor, now missing a gauntlet, dimmed. The spectral lights flickered and died, leaving only shadows within the ancient helm.

Meanwhile, deep within his secluded sanctuary, Wang Lin sat in quiet contemplation. He exhaled a long, steady breath, rising from his decade-long meditation. The echoes of his awakening reverberated through his body, a symphony of pops and cracks that gradually subsided.

As he stretched his weary limbs, a sudden shift in the atmosphere stole his attention. He looked towards the sky above his immortal dwelling and witnessed the silent, insidious birth of a black vortex.

“What is this…?” Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. In all his years within this sanctuary, he had never seen such a phenomenon. Its appearance was too precise, too timely, coinciding precisely with his ascent to the Ascendant Throne.

His nature was one of caution. The instant the vortex manifested, Wang Lin moved, darting towards the entrance of his sanctuary.

His movement triggered a frenzied acceleration in the vortex’s rotation. Its maw widened, threatening to engulf the world. A glint of steel flashed in Wang Lin’s eyes. Without hesitation, he reached into his storage pouch, retrieving the sanctuary’s token. With a swift incantation, his form began to dissolve into nothingness, on the verge of vanishing into the ethereal realm.

But in that fleeting moment, a gauntleted skeletal hand of abyssal darkness erupted from the vortex above, lunging towards Wang Lin’s dissolving form with terrifying speed.

The hand’s touch disrupted the ethereal shift, wrenching Wang Lin’s form from the brink of oblivion. Yet in the next heartbeat, he vanished completely.

The skeletal hand paused, its bony fingers twitching, before retracting into the vortex. Then, the swirling darkness vanished, leaving only silence in its wake.

Far away, within the vast plains of Fire Demon County, the air shimmered with a distorted ripple. Wang Lin emerged, his face a mask of grim determination. No one who had tasted the victory of the Ascendant Throne, only to be met with such unsettling strangeness, would find reason to rejoice.

His hasty exit, facilitated by the sanctuary token, had been marred by the skeletal hand’s interference. The teleportation had gone awry, leaving him stranded in unfamiliar lands. A sweep of his divine sense confirmed his fears; he was lost in the unknown.

Without warning, a black speck appeared in the sky, spinning with impossible speed. In a heartbeat, it grew into the same gargantuan vortex that had haunted him before.

Its appearance was silent, undetectable by even his keenest senses. It was as if the vortex existed in all places, and nowhere, at the same time, a lurking omnipresence.

Wang Lin’s gaze hardened. This time, he would not flee. He would stand his ground and confront the skeletal arm, seeking to discern its purpose, its power.

As if summoned by his defiance, the vortex birthed the gauntleted skeletal hand once more. It reached out, its bony fingers grasping at Wang Lin in an empty void.

No wind stirred, no clouds shifted. No visible spell or art was woven. The hand’s gesture was as simple, as unassuming, as a mortal man’s reach.

Wang Lin’s brow furrowed. He raised his right hand, channeling the full might of his Ascendant Throne power into the Rejection Finger. A black ray, ten times more potent than before, streaked forth, rippling with rings of destructive energy.

It struck the skeletal hand, the gauntlet responding with a surge of infernal energy. The energy, almost palpable, collided with the Rejection Finger, seemingly halting its advance.

But the infernal power underestimated Wang Lin’s transformed abilities. Had he not achieved the Ascendant Throne, the energy might have scattered the Rejection Finger. But now, infused with his newfound power, the finger’s core remained undeterred. The destructive aura, potent as it was, was rapidly consumed by the finger’s might.

All of this transpired in a heartbeat.

As Wang Lin unleashed his Rejection Finger, he sensed an imperceptible force approaching. It was a gentle current, a barely noticeable breeze. Yet the instant it touched him, Wang Lin’s face contorted with horror!

He realized with dawning terror that his newly formed Ascendant Soul was being drawn away by this ethereal wind.

He was paralyzed, unable to resist. Even his hand lowered, defenseless. His soul, the culmination of his lifelong quest, was now being gently, inevitably, drawn from his mortal shell, on its way to an unknown destination.
A creeping weariness, a spectral drain, began to seep into Wang Lin’s bones. A chilling glint ignited in his eyes. His very form stiffened, a consequence of his nascent soul’s attempted severance, and sensation fled from him with alarming speed.

Yet in this moment, fear found no purchase within his heart. Only a cold, unwavering resolve to kill remained.

He was Wang Lin, the one who dared defy the heavens themselves, who even dreamt of slaying the celestial order! Could he then, be swayed by such paltry sorcery? In that instant, his dormant thirst for blood, his burning intent to end life, collided. From this tempestuous union erupted a palpable aura of pure, unadulterated death.

A guttural roar tore from his throat, and a torrent of murderous energy surged from his eyes.

Driven back by the sheer force of his wrath, the very soul that had half-severed itself was dragged kicking and screaming back into his body. A chilling stare was then fixed on the encroaching arm.

“Whoever you are, dare not cross my path…” With a single, decisive step backward, Wang Lin invoked a tapestry of countless teleportation spells. In the blink of an eye, he vanished from the spot.

The arm itself did not inspire dread. Instead, it was the strange bracer adorning it that gave him pause. The hasty probing touch he’d made revealed its uncanny nature. In this strange land, where bizarre beings thrived, Wang Lin, but recently Ascended, still needed time to properly bind with his nascent soul. He had no desire to become embroiled in unnecessary conflict.

The very instant Wang Lin disappeared, a soft murmur echoed from within the ancient battlefield’s towering pagoda!

“Truly, a defiant cultivator! To withstand my Heavenly Demon Winds with naught but the sheer force of his killing intent! Yet, the more you resist, the greater my hunger for your Primal Qi! Here in the Land of the Cursed, those who practice the ancient demonic arts cannot generate Primal Qi. Only you cultivators, at the moment of Ascension, can create it. For countless years, almost every cultivator who reached the Ascendant stage within this blighted land has had their Primal Qi devoured by me… You, too, shall be no exception!”

Reappearing amidst a desolate wasteland, devoid of mountain or stream, where only withered grasses clung to life, Wang Lin’s keen gaze immediately locked onto a series of arcane barriers in the distance.

“Just what is that arm?” A frown furrowed his brow as he propelled himself towards the enchantments.

Soon, he stood before them. The landscape grew even more bleak, the ground itself cracked and barren. There was nothing outwardly remarkable about the spot.

The defenses guarding this place were hardly subtle, yet their strength lay in their sheer number. A dense network of thousands of interconnected seals lay before him. Trigger one, and all would erupt in a cascading chain reaction.

Crude, perhaps, but effective. Even a demon general would struggle to breach such a wall, and to dispel them through brute force would require considerable time and effort.

A simple sweep of Wang Lin’s spiritual sense was all it took. For one of his cultivation, and with his vast knowledge of enchantments, these crude wards were little more than a nuisance. He felt no inclination to enter. But as he turned to leave, the swirling vortex of black once more opened in the sky above.

“Relentless!” Wang Lin hissed, the chill in his eyes intensifying. This constant reappearance stirred the embers of his murderous intent. With a snarl, he plunged downward, directly into the mass of interwoven seals.

His hands had dismantled arcane structures of a celestial quality in the past. Dispersing these meager defenses would be as effortless as breathing. A mere glance was enough for his mind to conjure countless possibilities. A flicker of motion, and he vanished into the tangled web of magic.

These seals, besides preventing entry, also employed illusions to conceal their secrets. But against Wang Lin, they were useless. He had undone countless enchantments in his life, and easily navigated the maze without triggering a single ward. The world beyond stood in stark contrast to the desolation he had left behind.

Though still a plain, it had been meticulously divided into a series of cultivated plots, each radiating an eerie, otherworldly fragrance.

“Hmm!” Wang Lin murmured, surprised. He had not expected to find such a scene here.

Even more peculiar, all the plots were devoted to a single crop!

“Ascension Fruit…” His expression was a curious mixture of disbelief and amusement.

At that moment, the surrounding enchantments began to buckle and shatter. The black, skeletal limb forced its way through the collapsing barriers, reaching into the hidden garden.