A chilling hatred emanated from Li Yuan’s voice, a palpable rage that threatened to erupt and shatter the very air, a tempest born from days of torment.

Wang Lin nodded, his gaze passing over the elder of the Shadow Void realm to fix upon the woman frozen in place. In her trembling hand, she clutched Li Yuan’s enchanted blade.

Without a word wasted, Wang Lin moved with unsettling grace. A single stride carried him dozens of paces, placing him before the petrified woman.

She was only just emerging from a stupor of terror. She had witnessed the young man named Yao crumble into ruin at a mere touch of Wang Lin’s finger. The echoes of Yao’s body bursting apart still rang in her ears.

One touch had reduced flesh to nothing, and even the spirit of the Yao youth had been seized, his consciousness ripped away, leaving behind only a ball of raw power.

The horror of it all shattered her sanity. She trembled like a leaf, and the sight of Wang Lin approaching ignited a primal fear within her. He was no longer a man, but a demon, a soul-devouring beast! Instinct drove her to flee, even the thought of resistance was beyond her. Escape, flee, run! Never in her life had she known such terror. It crippled her mind and carved a deep fissure into her very soul. Even if she survived, her cultivation would be forever diminished, advancement an impossibility.

Wang Lin, a mask of icy wrath, stalked toward the fleeing woman. Her speed was pathetic in his eyes. The elder of the Shadow Void realm, observing the unfolding carnage, chose self-preservation over loyalty and retreated with alarming haste.

Wang Lin extended a finger, pressing it against the woman’s brow as her eyes widened in a crescendo of dread. Raw power surged, a raging torrent unleashed within her. Her body remained upright, frozen in place, yet trembled violently.

A cacophony of popping sounds erupted from within her, sounds that echoed the demise of the unfortunate Yao.

Her spirit, a ball of shimmering light, burst forth from her brow. Wang Lin snared it in his hand and tossed it towards the prone form of Li Yuan, allowing its power to infuse his battered soul and soothe his grievous wounds.

Then, her mortal shell shattered. In the final instant of her fleeting existence, she wondered why the one they had so cruelly tormented had not revealed sooner that he possessed such a powerful ally, one who walked these immortal realms of thunder.

As her body dissolved into nothingness, her flying swords and pouch of holding clattered to the ground.

Wang Lin turned his gaze toward the rapidly vanishing form of the fleeing elder. A cold smile touched his lips. With a single step, he became one with the very fabric of the world and vanished.

Terror gnawed at the fleeing elder. He knew he could not stand against the sudden fury of Wang Lin. Yet, as he fled, the very air before him shimmered, and a surge of raw power slammed into him, halting his desperate flight.

From the swirling void, Wang Lin emerged.

“You are next!” he hissed, his eyes blazing with icy fire. As he materialized, his hand rose, conjuring a bolt of violet lightning. The air crackled with power, and in a hundred paces, the atmosphere was saturated with crackling energy. A bolt of pure force, as thick as a man’s arm, hurtled towards the fleeing elder.

The elder’s face contorted in fear. He threw himself backward, chanting desperate incantations. Crimson flames erupted from his hands, coalescing into a shield of burning energy that enveloped his entire being.

The lightning struck, slamming into the shield. The flames buckled and shattered, and the raw power of the lightning plunged into the elder’s body.

He coughed blood, his face ashen. Panic seized him, his heart a drum of terror.

“Mercy, good sir! Hear me out!” he cried as he stumbled backward.

Wang Lin advanced relentlessly, his voice dripping with venom. “You tormented my friend for days. Speak!”

“Thirteen days… but I swear, it was the Yao family scion’s doing! I tried to dissuade him, but I am of lower station and could not defy him!” the elder pleaded.

He knew that the man before him was a being of terrible power, far beyond his own. Even though he himself stood on the precipice of Yang Solidification, he knew he could not prevail.

“Thirteen days…” Wang Lin’s eyes burned with killing intent. He closed the distance in an instant and, with his hand, formed a blade of pure energy, aimed at the elder’s left arm. The elder tried to evade, but Wang Lin spoke a single, powerful word.

“Halt!”
With a touch, flesh and bone dissolved, and the very essence of the man called Yao was seized by the sorcerer before him. His divine consciousness was obliterated, leaving only a swirling vortex of raw power.

This act shattered her spirit, filling her with a dread so profound that when she saw Wang Lin turn towards her, fear ignited within her soul. Her terror was a roaring inferno, driving her to the edge of madness with a piercing shriek.

In her eyes, Wang Lin was no longer a man, but a fiend, a ravenous demon of the void. She instinctively recoiled, not daring to retaliate, her mind consumed by a single, desperate impulse: escape. Never in her life had she known such terror, a feeling that not only crippled her conscious thought but carved a deep fissure into her very core, leaving her forever diminished. Even if she managed to flee, her cultivation would forever suffer, any hope of further advancement crushed.

Wang Lin advanced, his face a mask of icy fury, his eyes like shards of the frozen wastes. He closed the distance to the fleeing woman with a single stride, her speed a mere crawl in his eyes. Nearby, the old cultivator of the Vacant Yin realm watched with a calculating gaze. He made no move to intervene, instead retreating swiftly into the shadows.

With a deliberate gesture, Wang Lin extended a single finger, pressing it upon her brow at the very instant her pupils contracted to pinpricks of mortal fear.

A torrent of raw power erupted from his fingertip, crashing into her like a raging storm. Her body did not fly back, but shuddered violently, freezing in place.

From within her, a series of sickening crunches echoed, sounds she knew all too well, identical to those that had emanated from the unfortunate Yao.

A swirling orb of spiritual energy, her very soul, erupted from her brow, only to be snatched from the air by Wang Lin. He hurled it toward the fallen Li Yuan, merging it into his body, a surge of life-giving power that simultaneously nourished his ravaged spirit and began to mend his wounds.

The woman’s physical form, in that single, tragic moment, shattered, dissolving into nothingness. Even in her dying breath, she could not comprehend why the one they had abused had not revealed the presence of such a powerful ally sooner, a friend who walked the path of thunder in this very Immortal Realm.

As her mortal shell vanished, her flying swords and storage pouch clattered to the ground, abandoned relics of a life extinguished.

Wang Lin raised his gaze to the distant, fleeing figure of the old cultivator. A cold smile curled upon his lips, and he stepped forward, his form dissolving into the very fabric of the heavens, vanishing from sight.

The aged cultivator’s heart pounded against his ribs, consumed by the terrifying power of the newcomer. He knew he could not stand against Wang Lin, and fled with desperate speed. But then, the very air before him shimmered, a colossal tide of spiritual force bursting forth, halting him in his tracks.

Wang Lin materialized from the rippling void, his presence a suffocating weight upon the world.

“You are next,” Wang Lin hissed, his eyes burning with icy menace. With a snap of his wrist, a bolt of violet lightning crackled into existence. The air within a hundred paces pulsed with violet energy, iridescent arcs dancing through the charged atmosphere. The lightning coalesced, swelling into a serpent of pure energy as thick as a man’s arm, and lunged at the old cultivator.

The old man’s face contorted in horror. He retreated swiftly, weaving arcane gestures with his hands. Crimson flames ignited in his palms, bathing him in a protective aura, forming a shield of burning fire.

The lightning struck the fiery barrier, and the world erupted in a deafening cacophony. The flaming shield shattered, the lightning tearing through the remnants, slamming into the old cultivator’s body.

He choked on a gout of blood, his face ashen. He stumbled backward, his mind consumed by terror, his soul on the brink of annihilation.

“Mercy, senior!” the old cultivator cried, retreating desperately.

Wang Lin stalked forward, his voice a venomous whisper: “You tormented my friend for thirteen days! Speak!”

“Thirteen days… But senior, it was all the doing of young Master Yao! I pleaded with him, but my station was too low to sway him,” the old man stammered, his voice filled with desperation.

He was utterly consumed by the terror of the one before him. His cultivation was a trifle before Wang Lin.

“Thirteen days…” Wang Lin’s eyes burned with a palpable rage. He lunged forward, overtaking the old man in a heartbeat. His right hand formed a sword-like gesture, striking towards the old man’s left arm with the speed of lightning. The old cultivator flinched, attempting to dodge, but a single word escaped Wang Lin’s lips:

“Bind!”

The word was a command, a sinister spell that resonated in the old man’s very soul. He felt a surge of unimaginable power flooding the air, constricting his body, freezing it in place. Even his spirit was trapped, struggling as if in molasses.

“That is the first day!” Wang Lin’s hand plunged like a blade into the old cultivator’s left arm. Power erupted, and the limb disintegrated into a spray of blood and bone. A second explosion tore through the remnants, leaving nothing but dust.

The old cultivator’s face contorted in agony, but he could not move.

“The second day!” Wang Lin’s hand struck again, targeting the old man’s left leg. The leg exploded in a spray of gore.

Terror replaced agony on the old man’s face, his features twisted into a mask of pain. He could do nothing but await his death.

“The third day!” Wang Lin’s foot slammed down on the old man’s right leg, unleashing another wave of power. In an instant, three of the old cultivator’s limbs were destroyed.

The old man screamed, the tidal wave of pain threatening to overwhelm his consciousness. But with this explosion of torture, the prison around his spirit weakened. He pushed his power to the limits of his ability.
As the final step landed, Wang Lin’s right hand stabbed forth, striking the elder’s right arm, the last remaining limb. A torrent of arcane energy surged into the appendage, and with a sickening crack, it shattered into dust. “This marks the fourth day of reckoning!” Wang Lin intoned.

But the torment was far from over. The moment the binding spell faltered, and the elder’s body regained a semblance of movement, a chilling voice echoed through the air as he desperately retreated, his form shimmering with desperate energy.

“Bind!”

A mournful cry escaped the elder’s lips, for the voice was as a death knell, plunging his soul into the abyss of despair. Had he known the consequence, he would never have dared to touch a single hair on Li Yuan’s head.

His mind reeled, haunted by the words spoken moments after Wang Lin’s arrival.

“Who granted you the authority to harm my friend?”

The question crashed through his skull like thunder.

As his body was once more held in place, Wang Lin moved with blinding speed, his right hand a blur against the elder’s chest. Each strike sent tremors through the ancient frame, drawing forth crimson from his lips.

“The fifth day!”

“The sixth day!”

“The seventh day!”… By the end, the elder’s chest was a pulped ruin of flesh and bone, his lifeblood expelled in a crimson mist, his body utterly devoid of vitality.

“This is the final day!” Wang Lin declared, his right hand forming a palm, descending with merciless coldness upon the elder’s crown.

A sharp crack resonated as the elder’s flesh failed, erupting into fragments amidst a cloud of crimson. His astral essence tore free, soaring into the void, quaking in fear as it shrieked, “The Yao Clan will never forgive you!”

Wang Lin’s gaze was as frigid as the deepest winter. With a thought, he secured the elder’s pouch of belongings, instantly summoning the Soul Devourer Banner. With a flick of his wrist, the ten-zhang banner unfurled, revealing the agonizing visage of the Blood Ancestor trapped within.

“Do you recognize him?” Wang Lin asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

The elder’s astral form froze, his eyes widening in horror as he took in the visage. He could not name the being, but the face bore a striking resemblance, seven parts the same, to the patriarch of the Yao Clan.

Before the elder could speak, Wang Lin saw the answer in his eyes. He stepped forward, his arcane energy erupting, engulfing the elder’s astral form in an inescapable prison.

With an ethereal grasp, he seized the elder’s essence, dragging it back to his side. His eyes blazed with an icy light as he activated the Soul Severing Art, the overwhelming power leaving the elder helpless to resist. Moments later, a strange glimmer flashed in Wang Lin’s eyes. He erased all vestiges of the elder’s sentience and, with a final gesture, condensed the essence into a sphere of raw energy.

Wang Lin descended to where Li Yuan lay, taking the sphere of energy and pressing it to his brow.

“Brother Li, I offer you this gift. Whether it grants you true immortality rests upon your destiny!” Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed as he placed his right hand upon Li Yuan’s chest.

“Release!” he commanded. Instantly, a swarm of grotesque, writhing white worms erupted from Li Yuan’s body, each exuding a foul stench.

Wang Lin remained unmoved. With a simple squeeze, he crushed each worm in turn, obliterating them from existence.