A blade of wood, yet stained the color of twilight amethyst, hummed with an unnatural chill. Violet light danced along its surface, as if miniature lightning bolts were trapped within the grain, casting an ethereal, purple haze around it like a phantom blade.

The violet shadow shimmered near the edge of the thunderous pool. Upon the sword stood a man, perhaps thirty summers old, with skin as pale as polished bone and features that bordered on handsome. However, the delicate curve of his phoenix eyes held a disturbing hint of feminine cunning.

He wore robes of imperial purple and gold, their silken folds billowing as if stirred by a phantom wind. His gaze swept past Shen Gonghu, settling upon Wang Lin, who sat in quiet meditation within the thunderpool’s innermost circle.

The man’s pupils contracted, almost imperceptibly, and a prickling sensation raised the hairs on his skin.

The moment he appeared, Shen Gonghu’s expression hardened. The thunderbeast at his side rose, a low growl rumbling in its chest, its eyes burning with open hostility.

The silver-horned thunderbeast, however, merely glanced from Wang Lin to the newcomer with undisguised disdain. It then promptly lay back down, content to play with stray bolts of lightning that danced around it like obedient pets, scratching its back at its command.

Nearby, atop a pile of shattered stone, the Immortal Guardian remained motionless. It did not even deign to look at the scene unfolding. Its sole purpose was the protection of its master. Should danger threaten him, it would strike without hesitation, even unto death, fulfilling the oath etched into its very essence. But until then, it would remain impassive, even if the newcomer slaughtered ten thousand before its unblinking gaze.

“Zhan Konglie!” Shen Gonghu’s voice was a low growl.

The androgynous man carefully tore his gaze from Wang Lin, as if afraid of causing offense. While the younger man appeared to be only in the late stages of Soul Transformation, how he came to be within the inner ring of the thunderpool baffled the man. Either he possessed some unimaginable treasure of protection, or he masked a far greater power.

His suspicions deepened as he observed the silver-horned thunderbeast and the unmoving Immortal Guardian.

*It must be a treasure of some kind,* he thought, *He could not be concealing his power! But why are there two thunderbeasts here? Could this man also be an emissary of the Thunder Celestial Temple?* The very location was a fearsome mystery, as even Zhan Konglie, with his Perfected Yang Spirit cultivation, could never breach the inner ring.

“Ah, if it isn’t Shen Gonghu of the Shen Gong clan. Zhan was so preoccupied with my own affairs that I did not recognize you. Your cultivation seems to have waned considerably!” The man, Zhan Konglie, forced himself to sound casual, but his eyes darted back to Shen Gonghu.

Shen Gonghu’s response to this veiled insult was cold fury.

“This is not a place for you. Begone!”

Although injured and weakened, the mere presence of Wang Lin emboldened him. Even the Thunder Celestial Temple’s Lord himself would not dare insult Wang Lin.

Zhan Konglie arched an eyebrow, casting another cautious glance at Wang Lin, and said, “Bold words! Does the Shen Gong clan claim ownership of the entire thunderpool, then? Is one no longer permitted to meditate here if one is not a family member?”

Shen Gonghu gave a short, humorless laugh. “You have three breaths to leave. Or you shall never leave.” Shen Gonghu found Zhan to be overly arrogant. Had their cultivation gap been greater, Zhan Konglie would have been slaughtered long ago.

If Zhan Konglie proved foolish enough to disturb Wang Lin’s meditation, Shen Gonghu knew he had only to look at him and it would be the end. As well, Zhan Konglie was no emissary of the Thunder Celestial Temple. Killing him would normally result in some consequences, but with Wang Lin present, all of the consequences would be nothing at all.

Zhan Konglie’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step back, his gaze flicking back to Wang Lin, his suspicion growing.

*What gives Shen Gonghu such confidence? His injuries are plain to see. Is he bluffing? Or does he have some hidden ace up his sleeve… Could it be that younger cultivator?!* Zhan Konglie’s mind raced.

“Three breaths!” Shen Gonghu snarled, rising to his feet. Crackling lightning played across his skin. With a single stride, he emerged from the thunderpool. The thunderbeast lumbered after him, but not before casting a hesitant glance toward Wang Lin, its eyes filled with obvious respect.

The thunderbeast’s gaze did not escape Zhan Konglie’s notice, and it sent a shock through him. Zhan knew of the beast’s simple nature, its reactions not as masked as a human’s.

The beast’s gaze spoke volumes. An unsettling thought wormed its way into Zhan Konglie’s mind. With his cautious nature, he could not help but take another step backwards. “Shen Gonghu,” he called, his voice carefully controlled. “Zhan is a fair man. Should we battle here, the aftermath may disturb your clan’s junior.” He placed heavy emphasis on the word “junior.” “If you seek battle, let us move outside, to the field of shattered stone!”

A flicker of fury passed across Shen Gonghu’s face. He moved outside of the thunderpool and sneered, “Why so complicated? Let us settle this here!”

The more Shen Gonghu pushed, the more apprehensive Zhan Konglie became. He sensed something amiss, and preferred retreat to recklessness. Clearly, Shen Gonghu wished to lure him into an attack.

Connecting the thunderbeast’s fearful glance and Shen Gonghu’s confidence, a ridiculous idea began to form in Zhan Konglie’s mind. His eyes darted back and forth, and he began to form hand seals. In a flash, purple lightning began to crackle in his palms. The violet sword beneath his feet released an echoing hum and began to glow, and lightning began to run along its blade. The combined power of all began to swell into a great presence.

Within the swelling force, the energy of the heavens and earth combined. In taking action, he had activated his Yuan Spirit Technique. Clearly, Zhan Konglie was taking this battle very seriously.
The battle hung poised, a storm about to break. Shen Gonghu, with a stride that shook the very earth, raised his right hand towards the heavens, as if to summon a celestial tempest. Beside him, his Thunderbeast roared, its form crackling with countless strands of captured lightning, a terrifying web of power coalescing around it.

But in that very instant, Wang Lin opened his eyes, a serene calm washing over his features. “Shen Gonghu,” he said, his voice deceptively gentle, “I shall not intervene in this contest. Consider this a trial, an offering to my service. Fail, and your Dao-soul shall be returned to you.”

Though his countenance remained undisturbed, a flicker of unease troubled Wang Lin’s heart. Neither Shen Gonghu nor this Zhan Konglie were opponents he could readily face. If Shen Gonghu were to fall, his own precarious position would be imperiled.

He had sought only a haven for quiet cultivation, yet peace remained elusive. Now, this Zhan Konglie had emerged, seeking trouble. With a sudden shift in his thoughts, Wang Lin spoke as he did.

Shen Gonghu’s frame shuddered, his battle lust soaring to unparalleled heights. He fixed Zhan Konglie with an unwavering gaze, yet answered Wang Lin with utmost respect.

“Fear not, Honored Lord,” he declared, drawing a deep breath. “Shen Gonghu shall not be defeated!” With a swift motion, he reached into his storage pouch and retrieved a vial of potent elixir.

Zhan Konglie’s face paled. In the instant Wang Lin spoke, he had glimpsed a deep-seated reverence in Shen Gonghu’s eyes, an expression so profound it seemed an illusion.

Moreover, the Thunderbeast itself trembled at the words of the robed figure, as if gripped by a primal fear.

The very implication of the word “service” spoken by the inner ring cultivator sent shivers down Zhan Konglie’s spine.

If these were mere suspicions, Shen Gonghu’s reply confirmed his worst fears, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Honored Lord!” Such a title was not uttered lightly in the Celestial Realm, especially among those who had taken the second step on the path of cultivation.

It was a term reserved for one to whom another had offered their complete and unwavering allegiance, a master of immense power! Zhan Konglie could not fathom Shen Gonghu feigning such devotion, for the price was far too great. Shen Gonghu’s pride was legendary; he would sooner die in battle than debase his honor. And even if they fought, a true death was unlikely, at most, grievous wounds would be suffered.

Even Zhan Konglie himself would never willingly bow to another, simply to avoid a battle whose outcome was uncertain.

Piecing together the fragments, a preposterous notion bloomed in Zhan Konglie’s mind. His eyes widened in horror, struggling to accept the truth.

“Could it be… could it be that he entered the Thunder Pool’s inner ring not with some artifact, but by concealing his true cultivation? How else could he command the allegiance of the proud Shen Gonghu, to be hailed as ‘Honored Lord’!” Zhan Konglie gasped, recoiling instinctively. His mind raced, and he spoke quickly, “Brother Shen, be not hasty!”

Shen Gonghu’s eyes gleamed with icy resolve. He crushed the vial in his hand, a single, crimson pill glowing within. He swallowed it whole, and in that instant, his aura erupted in a frenzy of savage power.

“Zhan Konglie, face me in battle!” he roared, pointing a finger to the heavens. His unleashed power surged forth, and a bolt of lightning, like a divine dragon, thundered down from the boundless void.

The Thunder Pool itself stirred, countless strands of lightning converging and swirling around Shen Gonghu.

Wang Lin, watching Shen Gonghu’s unleashed power, marveled at the sight. This art was formidable, drawing upon one’s own strength to summon the wrath of the heavens. It was akin to the manifestation of Yuan Power into a cauldron, yet perhaps even more potent in its raw destructive force.

Though lacking the sheer scale of Yuan Power’s manifestation, its impact was far more intense! Zhan Konglie’s face grew ashen, and he recoiled once more. He stamped his foot, and a wooden sword soared into his grasp. With a gesture, the blade shimmered to life, its surface crawling with violet light and emitting a deafening roar.

Shen Gonghu’s eyes burned with battle lust. In this fight, he would display the full extent of his power, for his Honored Lord was watching!