Having traversed the Demon Mountains, Wang Lin felt the presence of the humming entity drawing nearer. Days melted away, and before him unfurled a desolate wasteland, stretching as far as the eye could see.

The blasted landscape was littered with ruin, the cracked earth reeking with a vile stench carried on the wind.

Bloodshot eyes burned in Wang Lin’s skull. The potency of the Ascending Fruit had long since seized his senses, amplifying them to an unbearable degree. The slightest provocation threatened to unleash a torrent of raw power.

In that moment, one word echoed through his mind: Slaughter!

He moved like a wraith, a bolt of furious energy aimed directly at the heart of the wasteland.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him groaned. A guttural thud resonated through the air. From the barren earth, a spike of hardened mud erupted, a grotesque, ochre fang lunging for Wang Lin.

In the wake of the first, countless more followed, tearing from the earth in a frenzied assault. The air filled with the sibilant whisper of a thousand earthen needles, each a jagged, lethal point. In an instant, Wang Lin was encircled by a forest of earthen spears.

His senses screaming in warning, Wang Lin did not retreat. Instead, he unleashed his Celestial Force, a maelstrom of energy that ripped through the air. The earthen barbs, brittle against such power, shattered into dust.

A gaunt, blackened figure sprang from the ground, landing with unnatural grace atop one of the remaining mud-spikes. Hunched, his withered body an unnatural angle, the creature leered at Wang Lin from across the distance. A serpentine tongue flicked across his cracked lips.

Wang Lin’s eyes blazed, and he surged forward. With a flick of his right thumb, the Finger of Oblivion manifested. A black streak of absolute nothingness streaked towards the withered wretch.

The creature grinned, a chilling, horrifying display. Instead of dodging, he threw open his maw. An instant later, a spectral form arose behind him, a towering, ten-foot tall chrysalis of darkness. Faintly, the grotesque outline of limbs could be discerned within.

As the gaunt figure roared, the chrysalis behind him split open, its own cavernous maw widening. With a horrifying inhalation, the black essence of the Finger of Oblivion was sucked into the creature’s maw. The gaunt figure’s throat bobbed as he swallowed it whole.

In that instant, the chrysalis-like specter seemed to digest the Oblivion’s essence. Its swollen abdomen pulsed. The faint limbs beneath its surface wriggled, then tore through the surface in an eruption of rancid, viscous liquid.

The gaunt figure reached out with a skeletal hand, and the foul discharge coalesced in his palm, forming a pulsating orb of pus.

He fixed Wang Lin with a baleful stare, his voice raspy, and chilling. “Little whelp, your finger-wind was delectable. Let me return the favor!” With a flourish, he hurled the vile sphere towards the ground.

The orb plummeted, impacting the earth with a sickening *splatter*. The festering liquid spread, seeping into the cracked earth.

In an instant, the ground for a thousand paces around began to tremble. Viscous, yellowish fluid bubbled from fissures in the earth, forming a circular wall of putrescence. Above it, a rising curtain of noxious fluid created a prison, sealing Wang Lin within.

The gaunt figure licked his lips. With a flicker, he merged with the seething wall of filth, disappearing from sight. As he vanished, the surrounding walls of pus began to contract, closing in upon Wang Lin.

Above, below, and all around, the putrid walls converged, forming a fetid sphere.

Outside the viscous prison, the gaunt figure reappeared, his malevolent gaze fixated on the shrinking sphere. “The wind whispers nothing,” he croaked. “This is no affair of yours. A mere mortal, daring to trespass here? Within my Blight, no creature can survive!”

A gust of icy wind swept across the scene. A woman with tattooed skin materialized a dozen paces away. Her expression was icy as she stared at the putrid orb, now only a few yards across. “If he were so easily dispatched,” she hissed, “our master would not have sent us.”

“Oh?” The gaunt figure’s grin twisted. “Then I shall watch with interest to see how this insignificant insect escapes my Blight!” His smile faltered.

The rapidly constricting sphere of pus had abruptly halted its advance. The air crackled with raw power and a killing intent so potent, it seemed to emanate from within the prison.

The killing intent, so thick it was almost palpable, sent a shiver down the withered figure’s spine.

Then, a muffled thunderclap ripped through the air. An instant later, a blade of pure light sliced through the sphere, bursting forth in a blinding flash.

The sword shone with celestial light, its arrival heralded by a hurricane of lethal energy.

A divine blade was not alone, there was a dark evil sword. Upon the dark sword, a phantom wisp of a demonic sheep hovered. To their side, a curved scimitar hummed, radiating an aura of palpable dread.

Behind the trio of weapons, Wang Lin emerged from the ruined sphere, long hair whipping about his head. His eyes burned with a fierce, unwavering intensity, a terrifying cocktail of battle lust and deadly intent.

The gaunt figure felt a tremor of fear. *”His gaze… it is terrifying!”* he thought. As Wang Lin stepped free, his trio of weapons shot forth like bolts of lightning, each aimed at the gaunt figure and the tattooed woman.

The woman’s face grew ashen, and with a swirl, she dissolved into the wind, vanishing without a trace. The black scimitar gave a guttural hum and vanished as well.

The air erupted with the clash of steel on steel, a cacophony of ringing blows that echoed through the blighted wasteland.

The gaunt figure’s eyes glinted with malice. Ignoring the approaching weapons, he wove his fingers into a complex sign and roared, “Sterility!” The ground buckled as he spoke. Concentric rings rippled outwards from the gaunt figure, and the land within them swelled into grotesque boils, as if a festering disease had taken root in the earth. *”It is as those pox upon a mans face only this time it is upon the world”*

“Erupt!” he bellowed. Power surged through his gaunt frame, and at his word, the ground exploded. The sterile boils burst in a cacophony of mud and shattered stone, unleashing the full fury of the blighted earth.
“By the Serpent’s forked tongue!” Xu Liyuan roared, shedding his illusion to stand defiant before the withered old man. He channeled his will into the enchanted blade, sending it sweeping in a deadly arc. The elder, with a look of weary annoyance, reached out a gnarled hand to seize the weapon.

**(Please note: The following is a continuation of the narrative. Please advance to the next page for the remaining content.)**

He believed, in his arrogance, that his mastery of the flesh was sufficient to tame the enchanted steel.

Xu Liyuan, observing the elder’s folly, smirked inwardly. He slowed the blade’s advance, almost inviting the grip. The moment the old man’s fingers closed around the sword, it unleashed its true power. A scream of agony tore from the elder’s throat as all five digits of his hand were sheared clean, blood gushing forth like a crimson fountain. “What sorcery is this?!” he gasped, recoiling in horror. But the enchanted sword was relentless, its gleaming edge ever pressing forward. And then, the spectral ram, born from another enchanted blade, shimmered into existence and darted behind the elder, aiming for his heart.

The festering wound upon the earth burst asunder, unleashing a geyser of vile ichor, its noxious surge reaching ten fathoms high, rippling outwards in nauseating waves. Wang Lin, his immortal essence ablaze, descended from the heavens, his gaze fixed upon the elder who now grappled with two wrathful blades.

The old man bellowed in rage, summoning the spectral cocoon once more, preparing to unleash its eldritch power. But Wang Lin, with a single stride, shattered the very fabric of space and appeared above the elder. His bloodshot eyes locked onto the cocoon, and he unleashed a torrent of pure, unadulterated killing intent, plunging it directly into the spectral form.

With a savage twist of his hand, he ripped the cocoon from the elder’s back. His eyes blazing with cold fury, Wang Lin hurled the grotesque thing into the void behind him.

Then, he clenched his fist, unleashing his will upon the spectral form.

With a sickening *pop*, the cocoon exploded, showering the area with its putrid contents. A muffled cry echoed from the void as Feng Yin materialized from the point of detonation, her face pale and drawn, but her eyes burning with a deeper, more sinister fire.

Beside her, the ebony scimitar snapped into existence. Feng Yin raised a dagger, its silver glint clashing against the incoming scimitar. As the blades met, the clash sent shivers down one’s spine. Feng Yin was sent stumbling backward, and the scimitar was pushed back as well.

In the midst of her duel with the scimitar, she had only just arrived when the cocoon’s detonation had slammed into her. Now, she could not discern if Wang Lin had foreseen her arrival, or if it was nothing more than a chance occurence.

Having witnessed the destruction of his cocoon, the withered elder coughed up a gout of blood, his eyes wide with disbelief. At that moment, Wang Lin pressed his thumb down, unleashing the annihilation ray once more!

This time, the black beam surged forth with unrestrained ferocity. So swift was its descent, and so close the distance, that the beam was upon the elder in a blink. His face paling, the elder foolishly opened his mouth, attempting to consume the destructive force. The ray did not dissipate, but pierced straight through him.

At this same moment, Feng Yin, in her own duel, flung her dagger to lock blades with the scimitar. She took advantage of this opening and dashed forward, becoming a wraith made of foul wind, targeting the back of the still focused Wang Lin.

Wind-like speed. In an instant, the foul wind had drawn close.

Wang Lin did not turn, but in his hand, the Kunji whip appeared. The ebony whip radiated the essence of souls with every shudder.

As Feng Yin came within striking distance, the Kunji whip lashed out. The air cracked with a resounding *snap*, and Feng Yin shrieked as she appeared in the flesh. A bloody welt marked her face, and for the first time, fear gleamed in her eyes. She retreated in an effort to survive!

Wang Lin’s mind, inflamed by the Ascendant Fruit, had relinquished control, acting purely on instinct. As Feng Yin attempted to flee, her speed unparalleled due to her mastery of the wind.

Without hesitation, Wang Lin slammed his hand, and there appeared the Unnamed Palm. The monstrous hand that had struck fear into Mo Lihai was released!

Within the palm, the killing intent infused every part of the monstrous hand. It gave chase with an unnatural speed, slamming through Feng Yin. Her body collapsed, transforming into gore.

As the gentle breeze returned, Wang Lin’s hair was pushed back. The three blades followed him to the next foe.

On the ground, flesh and bone mixed with a withered husk and an aura of death.