The wraith-child, confined these five cycles, clearly heard Wang Lin’s words, yet his gaze was a frigid well of resentment. He clung to Wang Lin’s finger, biting with a fury that sought to imprint centuries of anguish in a single, agonizing moment.

Wang Lin regarded the babe for a long while, then sighed softly. The wraith energy that seeped into his own being held no sway over him. A mere flick of his divine sense, charged with the power of thunder, would utterly obliterate it.

After a moment of contemplation, Wang Lin’s left hand wove a series of arcane seals. They shimmered into existence and settled around the swirling mist that contained the child, forming a cage of potent wards. As the Immortal Guardian puppet retreated, Wang Lin commanded the seals to contract, drawing the mist inwards.

Gradually, the chaotic fog diminished, utterly imprisoned within the web of enchantments. At last, Wang Lin gently lifted the sealed child with his right hand and pressed it to his brow, depositing it within the Heavenly Jewel.

A fraction of his divine soul flowed into the Jewel, ceaselessly working to dispel the pervasive resentment.

“When I have attended to these pressing matters, I shall seclude myself and purge the corruption within you, Ping’er. Be patient, little one.” Wang Lin murmured. He then reached out into the void and seized the fourth soul from the Soul Banner. Drawing the banner forth, he cast the captive soul within its folds.

“Venerable Master Duntian,” Wang Lin declared, “the fourth soul is reclaimed! The Soul Banner’s might shall be restored!” He turned, his gaze falling upon the distant city of Han. “Come forth,” he commanded, his voice calm.

Sun Xi emerged from the city with wary steps. He had witnessed the battle in its entirety, his heart reeling. The vile machinations of Liu Mei and the subsequent arrival of the Phantasmal Clan’s elder had stirred a tempest within him.

Now, facing Wang Lin, he felt an unexpected reverence and trembling, perhaps heightened by his own diminished cultivation.

“Fellow Daoist Sun,” Wang Lin addressed him, noting the wavering flight of the sword beneath his feet, a clear sign of his unease. “There is no need for such…” Wang Lin sighed softly.

Sun Xi inhaled deeply and offered a cupped-fist salute, his voice tinged with bitterness. “Fellow Daoist Xu… We three concealed the truth, hoping to ensnare you in this mire, to offer you as a scapegoat…”

“Enough,” Wang Lin interrupted. “Speak no more of it. Are the Patriarch Ran and that so-called逍遙, are they safe?”

“The Patriarch Ran’s incarnation has existed for centuries, having departed Ran Yun Star long ago, to whereabouts unknown. He is likely unharmed. As for Zhao Chuanwen, he could not create an incarnation, yet possessed some art that allowed him to split his soul. I suspect he, too, has fled Ran Yun Star.” Sun Xi replied quickly.

Wang Lin pondered for a moment, then spoke deliberately. “I accepted your immortal jades, and shall do what I can. Their fate is their own, but I will ensure a hundred years of peace for their descendants, that their family’s flame will not be extinguished. Thus, I shall fulfill my duty.”

Sun Xi bowed low, his face filled with gratitude. “Fellow Daoist Xu, I thank you on their behalf.” He paused, then added hesitantly, “But the Phantasmal Clan…”

Wang Lin lifted his gaze to the heavens, his vision piercing the starry expanse as if focused upon a distant Phantasmal Star. He declared with certainty, “Phantasmal Spring shall cease to exist!”

This was not arrogance, nor reckless bravado. It was the utterance of a man possessed by a singular, consuming purpose. To slay Liu Mei, all who stood in Wang Lin’s path would face his wrath.

Sun Xi shuddered. He could feel the immense killing intent building within Wang Lin, a force so potent that its unleashing would bathe the heavens in crimson.

His cultivation diminished, Sun Xi was overwhelmed. He lowered his head, unable to meet Wang Lin’s gaze.

Wang Lin glanced down at Sun Xi and said slowly, “Below Spirit Severing, comprehension is unnecessary; only sufficient spiritual energy is required for advancement. Furthermore, your original self cultivated for countless years and possesses its own enlightenment. I can assist you in raising your cultivation to late-stage Nascent Soul. Beyond that, you must rely on your own breakthroughs. If you succeed, you may yet ascend to Spirit Severing, and perhaps even greater heights.”

Sun Xi considered this, then smiled wryly. “My own Spirit Severing was achieved through a life-or-death ordeal, a stroke of luck I am loathe to repeat.”

Recalling the tribulations of Spirit Severing, Wang Lin sighed. “I cannot raise you to that realm. At most, given your lingering comprehension, I can help you reach Soul Transformation. However, this will require an Eighth-Grade spirit pill, and even with my aid, your progress will be forever halted. No further advancement will be possible.”

He remembered Zhu Que Star, when the Xue Yu Kingdom, because Hong Die was favored by the Zhu Que State, was promoted to a Level Five cultivation nation. Its sect leader had been elevated from Spirit Severing directly to Soul Transformation by similar means, yet could never advance again.

Now, Wang Lin possessed an Eighth-Grade spirit pill and the ability to control its effects, ensuring that Sun Xi could withstand its power.

Sun Xi gritted his teeth and declared, “Fellow Daoist Xu, I choose the latter!”

Without another word, Wang Lin raised his right hand and pointed to the heavens. Instantly, the sky darkened as the Huangquan Path manifested, coiling through the heavens like a spectral Yellow River.

Raising Sun Xi’s cultivation required an immense influx of spiritual energy, a feat beyond even Wang Lin’s capabilities without employing such a potent art. He needed to invoke his own understanding of the Dao to stir the spiritual essence of the cosmos.

As the Huangquan Path unfurled, Wang Lin’s Dao infused it, creating a force of tremendous power. The very earth trembled at this moment, and deep beneath the surface, shattered spiritual veins began to coalesce, forming swirling clouds of pure energy.

“Huangquan Path, Third Form: Huangquan Power!” Wang Lin intoned softly. A deep rumble echoed from the Huangquan Path above, and an immense suction force gradually emanated from it, reaching a crescendo.

The ground shuddered as the energy from the broken spiritual veins was drawn upwards, twisting and rising like ethereal dragons before being devoured by the Huangquan.

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed. He seized Sun Xi with his left hand and thrust him into the heart of the Huangquan, commanding, “Close your eyes and absorb the power!”

Enveloped by the Huangquan, Sun Xi heard eerie shrieks all around him. Startled, he immediately shut his eyes and focused on absorbing the immense flow of spiritual energy that surged into his body.
As the echoes of battle subsided, Wang Lin retrieved from his enchanted pouch a grand elixir, wrought of the Eighth Order. He crushed its waxy shell, and a potent aroma, reminiscent of forgotten gods and celestial blossoms, billowed forth. With a flick of his wrist, he cast the potent draught towards the Netherspring. Mid-flight, the pill shattered, its essence transforming into a verdant mist that seeped into the spectral waters.

Three days hence, a resonant roar emanated from within Wang Lin’s Netherspring. Sun Xi, stirred from his spectral slumber, opened his eyes, divine light blazing within their depths. He rose, a wraith no longer, and stepped forth from the ghostly pool.

He stared in wonder at his restored hands, his spirit scanning his revitalized form. Joy, once lost and now recovered, flooded through him. He bowed deeply before Wang Lin, his voice filled with reverence. “Esteemed Xu, your grace has granted me rebirth! My gratitude knows no bounds!”

For three days, Wang Lin had held dominion over the Netherspring, guiding its energies. Now, as Sun Xi emerged, the ghostly pool dissipated. Wang Lin spoke calmly, “Your cultivation has returned to the Middle stage of Infant Transformation, but it can reach no further. No thanks are necessary; it was simply a matter of honor.”

He raised his gaze to the heavens, speaking softly, “I leave this place in your care. Settle the affairs of the three families, and await my return.” Wang Lin strode forward, defying gravity itself, and ascended towards the boundless sky.

The gales of the celestial sphere proved no barrier to Wang Lin’s passage. Like a meteor unleashed, he surged upwards, piercing the Star-Locking Array and leaving its ancient protections behind. The Star Compass, now a ray of silver light, carried him towards the Thousand Illusions Star.

The coordinates of the Thousand Illusions Star were marked clearly upon the jade scroll given to him by Sun Xi. The silver light streaked across the void, imbued with a simmering malice, locked upon its target.

Within the silver light, Wang Lin sat in meditative repose. In the three days since he had aided Sun Xi’s restoration, he had given form to a perilous plan taking shape in his mind, his eyes now gleaming with a chilling resolve as he gazed ahead.

“For centuries, the Illusion Clan has held sway upon the Thousand Illusions Star, their influence both intricate and deeply rooted. Yet, I refuse to believe that they boast a multitude of cultivators who have attained the Second Step. Indeed, they likely possess but one, for such beings are exceedingly rare.”

“Should the ancient patriarch of the Illusion Clan be determined to protect Liu Mei, he will undoubtedly seek aid. For on the Thousand Illusions Star, the Illusion Clan is but one power among many.”

Upon the Thousand Illusions Star, the patriarch of the Illusion Clan had issued his decree: all descendants of the bloodline were to return at once, gathering in the southern region of the star and forbidding all from venturing forth. Furthermore, he had activated the clan’s protective formation, a shimmering barrier that enshrouded the southern lands.

Yet, the Illusion Clan was vast, and time was short. Many of the clan were still en route. Consumed by urgency, the patriarch dispatched many of the clan’s most powerful cultivators to spread out and gather the stragglers.

On the Thousand Illusions Star, three great cultivation clans held dominion: the Thousand Clan, the Illusion Clan, and the Xu Clan.

Of these, the Thousand Clan was the most powerful, the Illusion Clan second, and the Xu Clan last.

Within the Thousand Clan stood three cultivators who had reached the Second Step. With their immense power, they ruled the Thousand Illusions Star, holding the northern and eastern territories.

As for the Illusion Clan, only two had reached the Second Step. One had perished in a celestial calamity ages ago. The other was the current patriarch.

Normally, the Illusion Clan would have been relegated to third place. But the family could trace its lineage back to a celestial being from the long-lost Realm of Thunder.

Legends spoke of the Illusion Clan possessing a relic from the Realm of Thunder before its destruction, a celestial treasure and a guardian jade slip.

The jade slip held a single celestial spell, passed down through the generations.

Thus the Illusion Clan, though their ancient patriarch was often absent, maintained their power.

As for the Xu Clan, the Thousand Clan and the Illusion Clan regarded them with suspicion. Signs suggested that the Xu Clan of the Thousand Illusions Star had ties to the illustrious Eastern Star of the Roaming Heavens Star Domain.

The name of the Eastern Star carried great weight. The Xu Clan held its own, quietly refusing to be involved in the affairs of the others, and allowed a fragile peace to persist between the clans.

On this day, one of the three Second Step cultivators from the Thousand Clan, a venerable ancestor who had reached the realm of Yin-Yang and Void-Reality, departed from the clan, heading toward the void.

His destination: Wang Lin.