Wang Lin had witnessed the soul-rending art before, in the forsaken lands of the Demon Spirits. He’d seen Greed Wolf conjure a celestial mountain, a treasure of immense power, and forcibly extract its mountain-spirit.

The spectacle had shaken him, the sorcery so potent. It was clearly beyond the grasp of ordinary cultivators.

Now, experiencing it first-hand, as the San-Mo manipulated his body, he watched the coalescing demonic claw rip the soul from the Thousand Illusions Star. The sheer force dwarfed even Greed Wolf’s feat a thousand, nay, ten thousand times over!

Everything in this world, from blade of grass to towering tree, possessed a life force, a spark. And within each living thing resided a spirit, ethereal and unseen, yet palpable.

It was akin to a mortal standing beneath a colossal peak, overwhelmed by awe and oppressive weight. That pressure, though unseen, was the mountain’s soul, felt but not beheld.

Each mountain, each stream held its soul. How much more so, a cultivation star brimming with spiritual power?

Unlike the mere conversion of spiritual energy he’d felt before, the Thousand Illusions Star did not tremble as its soul was wrenched forth. Instead, a profound, primeval aura stirred, as if awakened, and spread from the planet.

This ancient breath was not forged in centuries, millennia, or even ten thousand years. It was a concoction of countless epochs, an essence of serene indifference.

It held only a sense of boundless acceptance, a fusion of all things under heaven, forged over the endless march of time.

The San-Mo, puppeteering Wang Lin’s form, seized downwards with its right hand. The primeval aura surged madly, coalescing into a grey mist within his palm. The mist, infused with the essence of antiquity, compressed with terrible force, crackling with thunderous energy.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but in that moment, Wang Lin felt the Thousand Illusions Star lose its vigor. Grass withered, rivers vanished, and cracks spiderwebbed across the mountain peaks.

The San-Mo, with a fiendish cackle, thrust its claw towards the phantom of the Immortal. Swift as lightning, a thunderous strike carrying the soul of the Thousand Illusions Star, it approached.

In that instant, Wang Lin felt himself merge with the star-soul. This blow was not his own, but delivered with the weight of an entire planet.

The Immortal phantom stepped forward, and the celestial energy drawn from the Thousand Illusions Star coalesced in its palm. It unleashed the energy, a riposte aimed directly at the San-Mo.

Two impossible powers, drawing ever nearer, collided in a cataclysmic burst.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

The echoes reverberated across the heavens and earth. Within the Thousand Illusions Star, three-quarters of the ley lines withered. The earth quaked, unleashing a shockwave that howled across the sky, scattering in all directions.

The force of the impact drove back the Huan Family members, who desperately channeled their spiritual and celestial energies. Without such defenses, the onslaught would have surely shattered their bodies.

The Immortal phantom dissolved into wisps of smoke, vanishing entirely. As its form dissipated, a jade slip materialized.

The jade slip, barely manifested, began to crack and splinter under the gaze of the Huan Family. It shattered into dust, scattering like ashes on the wind.

But in its destruction, a flash of white light erupted, forming a barrier that encompassed ten leagues.

The Huan Family patriarch paled. Ancestral edicts foretold that should the Jade Slip of Blessing shatter, it would unleash a final, weaker defense. Its purpose was not to prevail, but to offer the Huan Family a fleeting respite in their hour of need – time to surrender, to take their own lives, or to set their affairs in order.

The San-Mo’s right hand trembled, the Thousand Illusions Star soul within gone.

The primeval aura faded, retreating into the earth, becoming a memory.

In this battle, Wang Lin was the greatest beneficiary. Such combat, a clash of the gods, was beyond his comprehension. It transcended his understanding of reality.

Both the Immortal phantom and the San-Mo possessed power beyond the Second Step of cultivation. For Wang Lin, this battle was as if a long-sealed door had been thrown open.

A crack had appeared in that door, granting him a glimpse of another dimension, a personal experience of power beyond his wildest imaginings.

“Is this the power of the Second Step? Compared to this, Greed Wolf, the Huan Family patriarch, and Qian Zhen Zi, though said to be in the Second Step, are merely fumbling at its threshold.”

The power of the Second Step was terrifying.

This battle, witnessed through the San-Mo’s puppetry, offered an unimaginable boon. The San-Mo used only a single technique, but its execution through Wang Lin’s body revealed its secrets. Things previously hidden were now clear, including the flow of celestial energy and the commanding, world-shaping aura of the soul-rending technique.

All of it widened the path for Wang Lin to ascend to the Second Step.

Never before had he yearned for the Second Step with such fervor.

“Compared to such power, even my Immortal Guard puppets are but toys. The Second Step…it is truly a realm of gods. A single battle can shatter an entire cultivation star. This almost touches upon the level of power I glimpsed in the ancient memories of the ancient god!”

Not only Wang Lin, but also the Huan Family members gained insight, as if a new vista had opened before them. But compared to Wang Lin, their harvest was but a pittance.

Such opportunities were rare. How many Second Step cultivators, of the same rank as a grandmaster, would ever descend to another body to fight such a battle?

If war came, they would come themselves, and not in such a way.

The San-Mo, still possessing Wang Lin’s body, glanced at the barrier of celestial energy. With a soft snort, it clenched its right fist and unleashed a blow upon the barrier. Though casual, the strike carried the force of a thunderbolt and the oppressive weight of demonic energy.

*BOOM!*

Cracks appeared in the barrier, but it did not break.
The spectral barrier shimmered, casting an eerie glow upon the ashen face of Ancestor Huan.

“Ancestor,” Huan Fenshen said, his voice heavy with reluctant respect. A sigh fought its way free from his lips. Though their adversary was merely an Ascendant cultivator, his artifacts and arcane abilities defied comprehension. But with the advent of this fiend… even Ancestor Huan, in his prime, would likely be outmatched.

Ancestor Huan, his gaze sweeping past the spectral projection of Huan Fenshen, fixed his darkening eyes upon Liu Mei, who stood a short distance away.

“Liu Mei,” he began, hesitantly.

But before he could continue, Liu Mei lifted her gaze, her beautiful eyes meeting those of her master. A strand of raven hair, loosened from her careful braid, fell across her cheek. “Master,” she spoke softly, “if Liu Mei departs…certain death awaits.”

A thunderous boom echoed as the demonic entity unleashed another blow upon the shimmering, failing barrier of celestial energy. The fissures widened, spiderwebbing across its surface, and the arrogant laughter of the fiend echoed closer.

Ancestor Huan’s face was a mask of grim determination and simmering rage. He loathed the thought of surrendering Liu Mei, but if he did not, the fiend would breach the barrier. Alone, he knew he could not stand against it. The Huan family stood alone; the Xu, despite their promises, had yet to arrive, signaling some dire unforeseen circumstance. Everything now rested upon his weary shoulders.

A cold fire ignited in his eyes as he turned back to Liu Mei, his jaw clenched tight. “Liu Mei, you face certain death regardless. Better, then, that you surrender your essence to me! I shall achieve the Path of the Faceless Demon, and perhaps, with it, I might stand a chance!”

He had taken Liu Mei as his disciple not out of affection, but because of a faint glimmer he had sensed within her – the nascent power of the Myriad Illusion Demon Path!

Long ago, the Huan family’s celestial ancestor had bequeathed two arcane paths: the Heavenly Demon Path and the Illusionary Path. Yet the Heavenly Demon Path was fraught with such peril that, to this day, no member of the Huan lineage had truly mastered it.

In truth, these two paths stemmed from a single, unified essence: the Path of the Faceless Demon. This path had been born from the Huan ancestor’s contact with an extraplanar demon during a meditative trance, a mingling of his own enlightenment with the alien energies from beyond the stars. Celestials did not cultivate essence, so he had left this potent awareness for his descendants.

After the fall of the Celestial Realm and the loss of its protective grace, the Huan lineage had relied upon fragments of this Faceless Demon Path to secure its place in the new world. But the glory of old had faded.

Huan Wuqing had been drawn to Liu Mei because of her potential for the Myriad Illusion Demon Path. He had desired to absorb her essence, and he had feigned selflessness, even diminishing his own power to purify her blood.

He had meticulously accelerated her cultivation, yet carefully limited her progress, ensuring that she would never surpass the realm of Yin Yang Illusions. Thus, he could maintain absolute control, preventing any complications during the future absorption.

His plan had been flawless. Once Liu Mei reached the peak of Yin Yang Illusions and her essence, after undergoing the necessary trials, fully transformed into the true Heavenly Demon Path, he would seize it, merging it with himself to achieve the Huan family’s true arcane path: the Faceless Demon!

But now, the sudden arrival of Wang Lin had shattered his designs. To surrender Liu Mei would be a wasted opportunity. Better, then, to consume her now! Even a fragment of the Faceless Demon Path would be a powerful boon. He could strive to comprehend the rest through diligent contemplation. Perhaps, in time, he could even achieve the Grand Dao.

With this desperate hope burning in his heart, Huan Wuqing’s gaze intensified, a strange hunger now burning within his eyes as he stared at Liu Mei.

Liu Mei remained impassive. With her keen intellect, she had sensed the truth even back in the Alliance Starfield. She understood that in this world, true kindness was rare, and when it did appear, it often masked ulterior motives.

But Huan Wuqing’s power was too vast for her to oppose. She could only feign ignorance, allowing herself to be brought to the Luotian Starfield and subjected to the blood purification ritual.

The moment Huan Wuqing had deliberately harmed his own cultivation to elevate her to the peak of Ascendant cultivation, all doubt had vanished. She knew, with chilling certainty, that Huan Wuqing harbored a hidden purpose.

Yet, she was powerless to resist.

She, as a former disciple of the Vermillion Bird, could understand the danger of this type of artificial cultivation!

“You must grant me two requests,” Liu Mei spoke softly, her voice echoing in the space between them.