The echo of Xu Fenghan’s words was abruptly silenced by the dissolving of the inky dragon spear.

From the swirling dust, his lean form emerged, face ashen and bearing the marks of a desperate struggle. His eyes burned with an icy intensity, a maddened desire for vengeance.

“You are… impressive. Very impressive!” The words, laced with venom, hissed from his lips. To be pushed to such straits by a mere first-step cultivator was a humiliation he could scarcely bear. He had forgotten the original purpose of his descent, the lure of ancient treasures buried beneath the scorched earth. Now, only one thought consumed him: the utter destruction of his adversary.

Wang Lin sighed inwardly. To slay a second-step cultivator, even one newly ascended, was a task of immense difficulty. His calculations, his barrages of spells and strikes, had all been designed to create a single opening for the Immortal Guard’s strike. Against any other first-step cultivator, such an assault would have been fatal.

But against this nascent Yin Void cultivator, he had only managed to wound, not kill.

“This one… is far stronger than Lei Daozi ever was.” With a wave of his hand, Wang Lin summoned the exposed shards of discarded treasures from the soil, gathering them into his storage pouch.

His gaze remained fixed on the unsettling demonic lotus that bloomed above Xu Fenghan’s head.

Xu Fenghan inhaled deeply, his hand cleaving the air. “Though you possess that puppet, though your treasures are many, they shall all be reduced to ash beneath the Demon Lotus, forged from the very essence of my Yin Void Dao!”

“Dao-formed Demon Lotus, First Rotation!”

As the words left his mouth, the malevolent lotus above began to slowly turn. With each revolution, the demonic flames radiating from it intensified, casting the sky in an oppressive, lightless haze.

Wang Lin’s face grew grave. It was a rare sight, to behold a cultivator capable of manifesting their Dao. The lotus’s rotation seemed to usurp the natural order, as if the very heavens themselves were turning with it.

A sensation, both ethereal and tangible, washed over him, shrinking him to the size of a mote of dust, destined to be swept away by the merciless turning of the cosmos.

“It must not turn again!” Wang Lin’s face paled. With a surge of will, he summoned forth a tempest of thunder across the blackened sky.

In a burst of spectral light, the Yellow Springs manifested, a river of sorrow stretching across the heavens like a colossal serpent. From its depths issued the wails of the damned, the cries of countless tormented souls, filling the air with an unbearable weight of despair.

The Yellow Springs clawed its way through the encroaching demonic flames, establishing a fragile balance. The sensation of cosmic rotation began to fade, and Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed.

A cultivator who could give substance to their Dao was a formidable foe, a truth Wang Lin understood all too well.

Xu Fenghan’s eyes narrowed, fixated on the spectral river. “So, you too have manifested your Dao… You can draw the souls from stone and possess such a wealth of treasures. If I were to wager, I would say you were once a second-step cultivator, reduced to the peak of the Asking stage by some catastrophic event!”

Only such an explanation could soothe his wounded pride, could make sense of the reality that a mere Asking cultivator could possess such strength.

“I wager that puppet is your true form, while this body is but a vessel. Your Primordial Spirit has become trapped within it due to mortal wounds, unable to return to its true form.” With each word, Xu Fenghan’s conviction grew stronger, his arrogance reaffirmed.

“Then let us see whose Dao is stronger!” Xu Fenghan’s eyes glinted with murderous intent. Above him, the lotus whirled faster and faster, its flames intensifying until they formed a colossal vortex of black fire, radiating an unbearable heat.

“Demon Flame, Scorch!” Xu Fenghan roared, and the fiery vortex detached from the lotus, plunging down towards Wang Lin like a ravenous beast.

The whirling vortex grew closer, whipping up a cyclone of scorching winds. This tempest, fueled by demonic fire, howled towards Wang Lin with terrifying speed.

Wang Lin’s eyes shone with determination. This was his first true test since reaching the pinnacle of the Asking stage. As the manifestation of his opponent’s Dao bore down on him, he raised his right hand and intoned, “Second Formula: Coalesce the Spring Soul!”

The Yellow Springs shuddered violently. Within its depths, the collected malice of Qing Ling Star condensed, an amalgamation of the countless regrets and bitterness of mortal lives. These fragmented emotions merged, giving form to a wave of resentment so vast it threatened to drown the world.

The overwhelming hatred transformed into substance, pouring from the Yellow Springs and solidifying into countless ethereal figures. Each represented the embodiment of a single, sorrowful soul.

In an instant, the world was choked with countless ethereal figures, their presence constricting the very dimensions of reality.

Then, the spirits began to merge, until all formed into a single wraith with no clear identity, only the faintest trace of humanity.

Born from the Yellow Springs, the abomination thrashed to free itself. It howled with the pain of countless souls trapped within its core as it careened into the path of the demonic flame.

The clash between the Yellow Spring’s Wraith and the firestorm forged a power unfathomable to the mortal mind. A sound like the rending of existence echoed through the heavens.

It seemed that this single strike would tear the universe asunder.

The earth trembled. A chasm ripped the ground open, the beginnings of a new geological phenomenon to split the land into two realms.

The Wraith returned to the depths of the Yellow Springs in tatters and disarray. The Yellow Springs collapsed, and the wraiths were once more.
The River Styx, essence of the Will, shuddered. Its impending collapse echoed the shattering of the very foundation of his spirit. Wang Lin, drawing upon his nascent form, paled, stumbling back as a vile demonic fire, born of a twisted connection, leaped from the tormented souls to the Styx, then in the instant of its failing, lashed at Wang Lin’s core being.

This unholy fire sought to consume all, reducing existence itself to ash. A flush momentarily painted Wang Lin’s pallid cheeks as he coughed forth a torrent of blood, his eyes blazing with murderous intent!

“The Third Form: The Power of the Styx!” Wang Lin roared, his gaze piercing the heavens towards the fragmenting river. His indomitable spirit shone through his eyes.

He would not yield. If the Will faltered, he would forge it anew. If the Styx crumbled, he would rebuild it! The demonic fire within him, at that very moment, erupted from his pores, a writhing black vapor that hissed and burned as it ascended into the sky.

Xu Fenghan, equally ashen, retreated, his Dao-infused demonic lotus faltering. Though it did not shatter, its infernal flames sputtered and died as though doused by celestial rain.

Even he was besieged by the River Styx’s tormented whispers, a cacophony of thoughts clamoring within his mind. Only his profound cultivation allowed him to suppress the onslaught, lest he be driven mad by the endless torrent of anguish.

“The battle of Wills is the most perilous, a truth well spoken,” Xu Fenghan admitted to himself, placing Wang Lin for the first time on equal footing.

Such a clash struck at the very heart of a cultivator – not the physical form, nor even the nascent soul, but the ethereal, intangible Will. To damage the Will was to suffer a wound that rarely healed, a scar that lingered in the deepest depths of being.

Xu Fenghan watched, aghast, as Wang Lin’s Styx, teetering on the brink of oblivion, was instead bolstered by an unyielding spirit that even he could sense. It defied collapse, coalescing anew in a reversal of fate!

Astonishment flickered in his eyes. Such a display of sheer willpower he had never witnessed. He knew he could not falter. This was a battle of Wills, and retreat would invite dire consequences. With a flick of his wrist and a surge of energy, he cried, “Demonic Lotus, a Hundred Turns!”

The lotus pulsed, spinning with furious speed. Once more, the sensation of the heavens themselves rotating around him returned, a tangible, terrifying force.

Wang Lin felt himself dragged backwards, powerless to resist. He yearned to stand firm, but the very fabric of reality was shifting. To remain stationary was to be annihilated.

“I have slain Yin Void cultivators; to slay another is not beyond my reach!” Wang Lin roared, slamming his foot against the ground, arresting his retreat. His unwavering spirit pierced the heavens, reaching into the heart of the Styx.

His Will, laced with unshakeable conviction, resonated within the river. It refused to crumble. Instead, a vast, irresistible force erupted from its depths – the Power of the Styx!

This suction, as though to draw the entire cosmos into its mournful embrace, defied the shifting heavens. Spin as you may, none could escape the gravitational pull born from the intersection of two celestial realms.

So immense was the force that the spinning lotus faltered, its momentum choked, as if mired in an ethereal bog. Its rotation slowed, becoming sluggish and labored.

Alarmed, Xu Fenghan leapt towards the lotus, seeking to anchor himself and lend his own power to its rotation, to maintain his assault upon Wang Lin’s Will.

But Wang Lin would not allow it. He surged forward, drawn by the Styx’s power. With a gesture to the heavens and a glare of murderous intent, he cried, “Whip of Cause and Effect!”

A thin, curved line erupted upon Wang Lin’s brow, flickering into existence before solidifying into a long, supple whip!

The weapon cracked with a thunderous report, sending ripples through the air. Seemingly intangible, it lashed out at Xu Fenghan, interrupting his desperate flight to the lotus.

The strike landed in the void, yet its impact was undeniable. Xu Fenghan staggered, his face paling, his movements momentarily frozen.

The Whip of Cause and Effect struck at destiny itself!

“His spirit is fractured!” Wang Lin observed, seizing his chance. He surged forward, relentless and unyielding.