From the mists of Heng Yue, a blade named Zhe Fu found its way into the grasp of a callow Wang Lin. Little did he know, that fateful touch wove a tapestry of destiny, threads of loss and gain shimmering across the centuries.

Within Zhe Fu lay the echo of a forgotten storm – the soul-skill of a previous Rain Sword spirit. Not arcane art, nor celestial sorcery, but a single, devastating swordsmanship, passed down from an age where swords sang songs of creation and ruin.

Wang Lin, gripping the enchanted steel, watched as the Celestial Guardians and Thunder Beasts hammered against the embattled array. As the barrier teetered on the brink, he raised the sword, the calm in his eyes extinguished, replaced by the cold fire of steel.

In that instant, he became one with the blade. Zhe Fu ascended, then descended, a simple motion, yet the heavens themselves seemed to shudder. Celestial Guardian, Thunder Beast – all vanished in a blink, swallowed by an illusionary darkness.

The world shrank to the falling of the sword. A stroke that promised to rend creation anew, to tear reality from the clutches of primordial chaos. No wind, no energy, yet the descent resonated with a power that chilled the soul.

First to feel its bite was the elder of the Huan clan. His eyes widened, horror blooming upon his face. “It… it is a Rule!” he gasped.

It was as if the very fabric of existence were being torn asunder before him, the sound of its rending echoing in his mind. The dim sky split, as if the celestial veil itself had been unraveled.

Not only him, even Huan Fengshen, patriarch of the clan inhaled with a gasp of alarm.

A tidal wave of malice erupted from the descending blade, burning through Huan Fengshen’s eyes, seared into his very being.

His body locked in place, paralyzed.

“This… this is…” Huan Fengshen’s mind reeled. It was as if a rapier had pierced his brow, bursting forth from his crown. He stumbled back, his considerable cultivation unable to decipher the sword’s true nature. Yet, he felt it – the blade held a piece of the very firmament itself, and an even greater strength to tear apart the boundaries of the natural world.

*Thump-thump-thump*. He could hear his heart beat rapidly, accelerating. He had the impression of existence shattering itself.

Within the Huan clan, all that stood within witnessed the sky and froze in dread. It was as if they were being rent apart along with the world by the falling sword. All of the clan, from the old to the young, were drenched in sweat as the fear of death washed over them.

They could not comprehend why this was happening, how a simple stroke of a sword could have such a profound effect. Despite the protective array, they felt themselves on the precipice of annihilation.

Even Qian Kuizi, who watched from afar with his divine sense, was shaken. In his hidden chamber, he rose from his seat.

“A Rule! This strike holds a Rule! Is not this what one seeks in the second step of cultivation? To grasp the ways of Heaven, and bend them to one’s will? If this child were not of the Thunder Celestial Hall, how could he wield such a blade!”

At the Xu clan, an elder with a mane of white watched on with his own divine sense. He had been about to join the Huan clan, but at the final moment he held himself back.

*His style is powerful. He must have another trick up his sleeve if he dares to challenge the Huan clan!*

As the sword fell, every sound vanished. The Huan clan’s mighty array shattered, not from physical impact, but as if its very essence had been erased.

Wang Lin withdrew the sword, his face ashen, yet his eyes burned with an even colder light as he gazed upon the defenseless Huan clan.

The effects of the Zhaluo Sword had taken their toll. It demanded not cultivation, but the essence deeply entwined with his nascent spirit.

For those who reached the pinnacle of power, the spirit and essence were one. Yet, the sword was forcing a piece of the two apart. But Wang Lin had more essence due to his cultivation and the jewel of a passed master.

Within the Huan stronghold, an unnerving silence descended. Huan Wuqing, his face a mask of rage, snarled, “I underestimated you. To wield a Rule within a sword, at your level of cultivation, is indeed impressive.

“But the chasm between the first and second steps is too great. Had you mastered this blade, it might have been a different story. But today, you shall meet your end!

“Call upon the Ancestral Jade!” The Huan clan elder roared. From the heart of their ancestral hall, a force of immense power surged forth, benevolent and calming, like a celestial breeze washing over the Huan clan.

In the distant ancestral shrine, a golden jade scroll slowly rose, the source of the serene power. It was as if, in the heart of the Thousand Illusion Star, a new domain had been carved, making the Huan stronghold a realm unto itself.

The Huan elder fixed his gaze on Wang Lin, a cruel smile playing on his lips. He would not act himself unless forced; Wang Lin’s sword left him uneasy. Thus he summoned Qian Kuizi, and the clan’s protective arrey to use against Wang Lin.

He did not expect Qian Kuizi to retreat, nor for the sword to pierce through his protective barrier.

He gritted his teeth, and summoned the clan’s greatest treasure to this world. The ancestral’s jade scroll has the power of a god’s will which the Huan clan has long enjoyed because of it.
“Alas,” lamented Illusion Without Emotion within the hidden chambers of his heart, “had the Revered Ancestor’s Treasure, lost with the Illusory Unchanging One millennia past, remained with us, we would not need to summon the Jade Tablet of Blessing!”

As if touched by a spring breeze, the tablet radiated a boundless aura. Light blossomed upon its surface, and in a sudden surge, the jade seemed to melt, coalescing into a humanoid form. Though its features remained indistinct, it exuded an undeniable air of ancient authority.

“The Illusion Clan’s Immortal Tablet, its power untold,” mused Thousand Sunflower, his gaze sharp, his spirit senses probing. “Legends speak of their ancestral Immortal, whose cultivation rivaled the Nirvana Shatterers. I wonder how the Envoy of the Thunder Immortal Palace will counter it! Yet, it is strange. Why does the Illusion Patriarch not unleash his ancestor’s linked treasures, and instead call upon this simple tablet?”

Old Man Xu, a parasitic presence within the shadows, chuckled, “The Illusion Clan’s true Immortal Treasure was surely claimed by elders long ago. Their ancestor did leave behind a paltry trinket, yet it cost the life of an Illusion Clan cultivator who had barely stepped onto the Second Step of Ascension.”

Within the ancestral halls of the Illusion Clan, Illusion Sealed Divinity, his eyes fixed upon Wang Lin, showed no sign of panic at the tablet’s emergence.

As Illusion Without Emotion prepared to unleash the tablet’s magic, Illusion Sealed Divinity, with a glint of resolve, stepped forward. “Ancestor,” he declared, his voice resonating, “the Illusion Clan shall not partake in this! As clan head, I wield the right to withdraw. Your desire to protect Illusion Brow is a personal matter. I implore you, do not drag the entire Illusion Clan into this mire!”

He turned towards Wang Lin, bowing his head in respect. “Friend, as I have said, this dispute lies between you and Illusion Without Emotion. The Illusion Clan is neutral. I trust you can discern the truth of the matter!”

Ice filled the Illusion Patriarch’s gaze as he surveyed Illusion Sealed Divinity. A sinister smile twisted his lips as he turned his gaze upon the clan’s direct bloodline. “And you?” he hissed.

One by one, after moments of tense consideration, the scions of the Illusion Clan’s direct line moved to stand beside Illusion Sealed Divinity.

The Illusion Patriarch emitted a chilling laugh, his eyes sweeping over them with contempt. “A pack of useless worms!” With a final, venomous look, he turned his attention to Wang Lin. His fingers flickered in a complex incantation, and with a point, he commanded, “Jade Tablet of Blessing, slay this one!”

The tablet-formed figure moved, each step bringing it closer to Wang Lin. With its advance, a vast, incomprehensible Immortal Power exploded outwards. So dense was this power that it seemed to compress the spiritual energy of the Thousand Illusion Star, causing a chain reaction of popping sounds that reverberated throughout the entire planet.

The Immortal Guardian Puppet flashed into existence, standing shoulder to shoulder with Wang Lin, the Thunder Beast mirrored its actions.

Wang Lin watched the approaching figure, a trick of the light perhaps, causing the figure to gain clearer features. Immortal wind flowed along its body, and it appeared a true Immortal descended.

Power radiated from this being, bringing with it authority. Its gaze swept over existence viewing all as insignificant as ants. Even with its presence, hidden echoes of Immortal songs drifted.

“Little whelp, besides your sword energy, what other tricks do you have?” the Illusion Patriarch sneered.

Nearby, Illusion Brow lifted her head, her gaze upon Wang Lin still filled with complexity. Her hand drifted towards her storage bag but then retreated.

Wang Lin’s eyes remained calm. He dared to come here alone, to trespass into the ancestral halls of the Illusion Clan upon the Thousand Illusion Star, empowered by the mad notion that had driven him here, a deadly weapon.

The memory of the Grudge Infant, born within Immortal Defiance, sent a pang of sorrow through Wang Lin’s heart.

There is no escaping karma in this world. The seed of yesterday bears the fruit of today. Only by severing these ties, by returning dust to dust, and earth to earth, can one settle a cycle of reincarnation. ” Wang Lin slowly closed his eyes.

From the darkness, a resolute cry reverberated. “When this battle ends, I shall set you free!” A feral roar erupted from within the depths of Wang Lin’s nascent soul!