The ancient seal groaned, untouched for centuries. Wang Lin, eschewing flight, approached the Fire-Fiend Prefecture’s capital one measured step at a time.

His form, clad in white, appeared as a ghostly wraith amidst the oppressive grey mists, a spectacle both eerie and unsettling. With each stride, his long hair danced through the swirling vapors, the crunching of his boots upon the desolate earth echoing through the silent air.

This city of mist stood desolate, a stark contrast to the vibrant metropolis it had been a mere century past, rivaling even the Sky-Fiend City of the Sky-Fiend Prefecture. Now, only death reigned.

To the nine Prefectures of the Ancient Fiend Lands, its denizens were but livestock, bred and harvested to replenish the fiendish energies of their masters. Even the complete annihilation of the populace would not stir a flicker of remorse in their ancient, cruel hearts.

Within the Fire-Fiend Prefecture’s ruined capital, from the Fiend-Emperor and his generals to the lowliest soldier and peasant, all had marched to war, their bones scattered across the land, their blood staining the soil crimson.

Wang Lin’s heart remained undisturbed, his pace unwavering as he approached the city’s outer defenses. Ten leagues from the capital, the ancient fiend’s wards shimmered, a formidable barrier woven from pure fiendish energy. Its strength was such that even fiend-generals from neighboring Prefectures could not breach it, a testament to the ancient fiend’s cunning and self-preservation.

Only a fellow ancient fiend, or a cultivator of unimaginable power, could hope to unravel this arcane weave.

“Ancient Fiend Bairo informed me,” Wang Lin muttered, “that after the city’s abandonment, the resident fiend would seal it, preventing intrusion. Thus, our first pact is to shatter this barrier.”

Reaching the edge of the shimmering fiendish barrier, Wang Lin raised his right hand, a dark light coalescing upon his fingertip. He thrust forward.

The moment his finger touched the ward, a surge of raw, rebounding energy slammed back against him. His finger recoiled with a stinging jolt, the sensation traveling up his arm, causing sharp pain.

Wang Lin circulated his celestial energy, and the sensation faded.

“Truly formidable,” he acknowledged softly.

Suddenly, a brutal, untamed divine sense erupted from within the ruined city. A thunderous roar, echoing with primordial rage, shook the very foundations of the earth.

“Begone!!”

The sound, akin to a thousand thunderclaps bursting in the heavens, crashed against Wang Lin’s senses, threatening to shatter his very soul.

Wang Lin countered, his right hand forming a complex and arcane hand seal. Closer inspection revealed the subtle emanation of fiendish energy within its formation. The roaring power bearing down upon him dissipated into nothingness the instant it reached him.

“Bairo!! You are sent by Bairo!!!” The savage divine sense roared again, its voice laced with bitter fury.

Wang Lin ignored the enraged outburst. He inhaled deeply, his gaze hardening. “Ancient Fiend Bairo, our agreement has begun. Watch closely, for this first step will be decisive.”

Raising his right hand towards the heavens, his eyes gleaming with cold determination, Wang Lin spoke in a measured tone, “Essence of Slaughter, gather!”

These simple words, unremarkable compared to the tempestuous roar moments before, did not stir the heavens, but they unleashed a cataclysmic storm across the Fire-Fiend Prefecture.

Far to the north, upon a field of ongoing slaughter, a multitude of combatants froze, gripped by an unseen force. From their bodies, a thick, palpable essence of killing intent, capable of piercing the very sky, erupted, streaking away towards the horizon.

“The Ancestor Descends!” the fiendish soldiers cried out in exultation, abandoning their conflict and fleeing the battlefield.

In the south, the clash of armies was interrupted by shadowy figures. These black-clad assassins, moving with unnatural speed, possessed a concentrated aura of death. With each kill, they stole their victim’s life force, feeding upon the essence of slain fiends.

Over the past century, both sides had grown accustomed to their presence, these specters, flitting between the lines, their allegiances unknown. But now, even these assassins paused, seized by a sudden thrill of anticipation. From within them, a potent essence of slaughter exploded forth, soaring skyward to join the greater convergence.

This scene repeated itself across the prefecture, the skies darkening with a swirling haze of grey, thick with the stench of death and the chilling promise of utter annihilation.

For a brief moment, a shroud of slaughter draped across the entire landscape, suffocating all beneath with its bone-chilling malice.

The warring factions ceased their conflict, staring at the heavens in bewilderment, a sense of unease settling upon them.

Not only among the fiendish soldiers and the assassins, but even within the ranks of the commanders on both sides, lurked members of the Soul-Refining Tribe, hidden for generations.

At that very instant, countless generals across the Fire-Fiend Prefecture trembled, the essence of slaughter leaking from their foreheads, vanishing into the sky. Deprived of this vital energy, they retreated, each enacting their carefully prepared plans to escape.

The century-long war was abruptly halted by a phenomenon that left the survivors reeling. The sky, no longer azure, was choked with grey. Streams of murderous energy roared upward, converging upon the capital of the Fire-Fiend Prefecture!

Tens of thousands of streaks of slaughter, carrying the potent scent of death, hurtled toward Wang Lin from all directions. The air around the ruined capital pulsed with unceasing fury, Wang Lin at its center, standing like the eye of a terrible storm. Each strand of energy was denser, more potent than it had been a century before, the accumulated malice almost tangible.

“Divide!” Wang Lin commanded, his eyes flashing crimson, his murderous heart and intent coalescing to empower the essence of slaughter at its source.

The countless strands of essence, already obscuring the sun, split apart upon his word, instantly doubling their number! Tens of thousands became hundreds of thousands.

But the division did not cease there.

Hundreds of thousands became millions! And then, millions upon millions!

In that instant, the heavens and earth were swallowed by a thick, all-consuming fog of grey – not mist, but the essence of pure malice! A tangible manifestation of killing intent and murderous desire!

Even now, the strands yearned to divide further, but Wang Lin’s understanding of the Essence of Slaughter Art remained incomplete. Millions were his limit. This was why he had refrained from indiscriminate slaughter, relying instead on the carefully cultivated malice of the Soul-Refining Tribe to fuel his ambition.

“Break!” Wang Lin’s hair billowed as he raised his right hand, pointing directly at the ancient fiend’s ward.

Millions of strands of slaughter, akin to a torrential rain, descended upon the barrier.

Thus began Wang Lin’s path to find Zhou Yi, a journey that will carry him deep into the Ancient Fiend Lands.