“A Celestial Qilin!” The diminutive elder yelped inwardly as Wang Lin unleashed the horned beast. Unease gnawed at his heart, amplified by the Qilin’s knowing gaze.

The rapidly approaching Celestial Grain faltered at the Qilin’s emergence, a collective shudder rippling through their ranks. A chorus of shrill, trembling cries filled the air as they abandoned their advance, desperate to flee.

The dread extended beyond the airborne sustenance. Upon the ground, cultivators trembled, enduring an unseen agony. Azure veins pulsed upon their foreheads, constricting and coalescing into single, throbbing points.

Seeing the Grain’s attempted escape, the Qilin exhaled a formless gust from its nostrils, followed by a thunderous roar. Within that sound resided an uncanny power, freezing the fleeing Grain in their tracks.

With earth-shaking steps, the Qilin descended upon the suspended Celestial Grain. A single, mighty inhale drew the essence of the Grain into its maw, converting it into vital energy – a boon for any celestial beast.

The elder watched this spectacle, his jaw agape in disbelief.

The Qilin, licking its chops, swiveled its massive head, its gaze settling upon the azure knots upon the foreheads of the terrestrial cultivators. Clearly, its appetite remained unsated.

The elder’s face contorted in distress. With haste, he retrieved an object from his pouch – a writing brush. The instrument was crafted of pure crystal, its tip adorned with bristles as white as fresh snow, as though never stained by ink.

Upon its unveiling, an aura of undeniable authority emanated from the brush. Even the Qilin seemed taken aback, its eyes widening in surprise.

Brandishing the brush, the elder glared at Wang Lin. “So, whelp, you recognize Celestial Grain! But do you know the nature of this treasure in my hand?”

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed, but he remained silent. Instead, he reached into his own pouch, summoning the Arrow-Shooting Chariot to his side. Its activation, once agonizingly slow, now mirrored the speed of thought, a testament to his mastery.

“I wager you haven’t a clue! This, boy, is a relic from my time in the Celestial Realm, an instrument used to enlighten mortals! I take pity on your meager cultivation. Begone, and be swift! Or face the consequences!” the elder roared.

Wang Lin regarded the elder, then spoke calmly, “Spare me your empty threats. I see through your deception. Though your cultivation reaches the peak of the Nascent Soul realm, like the Celestial Guards, your body lacks the true essence of Yuan!”

Enraged that his deepest secret had been exposed, the elder spat a mouthful of blood upon the brush and slashed it across the air, forming a rune.

The rune blazed into existence, radiating a power that resonated with the very fabric of existence.

For the first time, genuine surprise flickered across Wang Lin’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a burning intensity.

His gaze fixated on the rune, then moved to the brush itself, and in his eyes, the fire transformed into a boundless elation.

The rune… Wang Lin knew it well. It was identical to those he had encountered upon the path to the Dragon in the Immortal’s Cave!

He had studied those symbols, attempted to replicate them. Individually, they held no power, and he could never achieve the astonishing effect of the four brushes combined. This remained a source of frustration.

But now, seeing the rune wielded by the elder, though but a single stroke, it held tangible power!

Wang Lin’s intense gaze sent a tremor of unease through the elder. He recognized that look – it was the same hungry gaze the Qilin had shown for the Celestial Grain.

A battle fervor, dormant since his arrival, surged within Wang Lin. He pointed towards the Arrow-Shooting Chariot and roared, “Thunder Beast!”

A cacophony of thunder filled the heavens as bolts of lightning erupted from the sky, striking the chariot. From the heart of the electrical storm emerged the Thunder Beast, its silver horn and Qilin-like form crackling with raw power.

Its appearance was heralded by a deafening roar that tore through the clouds, summoning a tempest of celestial lightning. The sky itself was now a canvas of cascading thunderbolts.

The Qilin, not to be outdone, unleashed its own earth-shattering bellow. Though lacking the raw force of the Thunder Beast, its cry possessed a different strength. It ripped the azure knots from the foreheads of the surrounding cultivators, transforming them into threads of pure energy, which the Qilin greedily devoured.

Meanwhile, the rune painted by the brush flashed brilliantly and hurtled towards Wang Lin.

With a guttural growl, the Thunder Beast surged forward. A torrential downpour of lightning cascaded from the heavens, forming a dazzling barrage that struck the rune relentlessly.

The rune, powerful as it was, could not withstand the onslaught. The elder, limited by his understanding of its true potential, watched in horror as it crumbled under the unrelenting assault of celestial lightning.

Stunned, then gripped by terror, the elder turned to flee.

For centuries, since a fateful encounter, he had lived in a state of false authority, enslaving countless cultivators through the power of the Celestial Grain. He was cautious, even cowardly, never daring to provoke those who had reached the Ascendant and beyond.

Fear was his constant companion. Even when his strength had long surpassed the peak of the nascent soul stage, he lacked the courage to attempt the perilous journey to the next realm!

He feared death!

Only after accumulating a legion of ten Celestial Guards had he allowed his caution to wane. He hunted cultivators, forcing them to merge with the shattered Jade, hoping to create more loyal Celestial Guards.

“What sort of monster is this Wang Lin? How can he be so powerful? Cursed be the wretch who sent his information back from the Ancient Demon City! If I survive this, I’ll grind that traitor to dust!” the elder cursed inwardly as he fled.
A burning avarice flared in Wang Lin’s eyes. He would expend every ounce of his immortal power, if need be, to prevent the diminutive elder from escaping. His gaze was not inflamed by bloodlust, but by the allure of the treasures adorning the old man.

In Wang Lin’s estimation, this elder was a walking vault of wonders. He couldn’t fathom why, possessed of such artifacts, the man hadn’t been robbed long ago.

Little did Wang Lin know, the elder was a creature of extreme timidity, his boldness only recently awakened after decades of meekness. He once preyed only on isolated disciples from minor sects, but lately, he had grown audacious enough to target members of the mighty Heavenly Fortune Sect – abducting the blue-robed disciples being his most daring venture yet.

Though the elder’s cultivation was at the mid-stage of Soul Transformation, it was an ascent achieved through dubious means. Against weaker early-stage Soul Transformation cultivators, he might hold his own, but against one like Wang Lin, capable of battling a true mid-stage Soul Transformation master, he was insignificant.

Furthermore, while his treasures were potent, he possessed only a rudimentary understanding of their use. He could barely unleash one percent of their true power.

The diminutive elder fled with frantic speed, as though transported back to the days before his fortune, when he was merely an Infant Soul cultivator, hunted by those stronger than himself.

Bitterness filled his heart as he cursed Wang Lin under his breath. Suddenly, a dark flash hurtled towards him from behind. The elder hastily scribed runes with his brush, attempting to impede Wang Lin’s spell.

Then, with a forceful stomp, he ignited a burst of intense flame around himself. The flame vanished in an instant, and with it, the elder.

Wang Lin’s eyes burned brighter. Though the elder was deficient in most skills, his talent for escape was unparalleled. In the span of half an hour, he had employed no less than ten techniques that left Wang Lin momentarily stunned.

This was the eleventh, and it was unlike any of the previous.

Wang Lin scoffed. With a swift motion, he teleported, his divine sense sweeping across the land. He located the elder some thirty thousand miles away.

The flames had dissipated, and the elder was flying with desperate haste. His face fell as he saw Wang Lin step directly from the void, advancing towards him.

Hesitation flickered in the elder’s eyes. He gritted his teeth and flung his brush into the distance. The brush struck the void, creating ripples, as though piercing through nothingness, on the verge of disappearing from this realm altogether.

Having cast aside the brush, the elder wove a series of hand seals, and a golden aura erupted around him. He surged forward, his speed increasing a hundredfold.

“Wang Lin, you whelp!” The elder’s voice echoed from afar. “That Celestial Brush is a true artifact of the immortals! Lost in the void, you’ll never find it again!”

Wang Lin remained impassive. He reached into his storage bag, and both the Celestial Sword and the black saber materialized. Xu Liguo emerged from the sword, understanding Wang Lin’s intent before any command was given. With a defiant roar, he wrapped himself around the black saber, his voice filled with glee. “Blacky! Speed! Speed! Catch that brush for me!”

The black saber vanished, leaving no trace, as it and Xu Liguo pursued the brush into the void.

Wang Lin strode forward, using the Great Shift Technique to give chase to the diminutive elder.

The elder, in his flight, sensed Wang Lin’s renewed pursuit and cried out in despair. “What does he want from me? I threw away the Celestial Brush! Why won’t he leave me alone?!”

Sensing Wang Lin’s rapid approach, the elder gritted his teeth once more, slapping his storage bag and retrieving a net that shimmered with emerald light.

“Compared to the Soul-Locking Brush, my control over this Immortal-Binding Net is even weaker,” he muttered. “I’ve never used this thing in battle. Please, Immortal-Binding Net, recognize the enemy this time. I saved you! Our meeting must be destiny, right? Please, don’t bind me this time!” The elder was loath to use the net, for he found it unsettling.

Once, in solitude, he had tested its power, only to find himself bound for three days. After much hesitation, driven by a reluctant curiosity, he tried again, with the same result. Only on the third attempt did it successfully ensnare a block of wood he was testing with.