A creed resonated within their hearts, mightier than any enchantment, a struggle unyielding to any barrier in creation! This creed was Survival, this struggle, Existence! The frantic flight from Bai Yi’s prison had sparked the ember of hope; now, they charged forth, fueled by the raging fire of continued life. Like butterflies breaking free from their chrysalis, they faced a binary fate: to live, or to be extinguished. This burning will to survive, this desperate fight for existence, ignited a ferocious madness within those who surged through the shattered veil of space.

Ascension cultivators, emboldened beyond reason, dared to glare at, even strike at, those of the Yang Real realm. They cast aside the memory of the unbridgeable chasm between them, forgetting the obsequious respect they would have shown in the untainted Immortal World of old.

All this, crumbled to dust before the altar of survival.

One such act by a single Ascendant would be unremarkable, but ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred… this was no longer a trifle. It was a terrifying surge of power, enough to stir unease even in the hearts of the Yang Real.

Though the slaughter of a hundred Ascendants would be little more than sport for a Yang Real warrior, it was their spirit that mattered now! Faced with this united, indomitable will, the seven envoys of the Thunder Celestial Hall arrayed outside the portal felt their composure crack.

Among the frenzied horde were several Nether Void cultivators, their eyes burning with feverish intensity. Their power dwarfed that of the Ascendants, and their madness was dangerously infectious.

Even this, however, only caused the Thunder Celestial Hall envoys to blanch. For within the throng were two Yang Real cultivators, their power carefully masked until this very moment. Their sudden unveiling sent a chill of dread through the envoys.

But even these pale in comparison to the figure who truly struck terror in their hearts: Wang Lin. He too possessed the power of a Yang Real, yet radiating from him was an aura of blood and iron, the palpable essence of countless battles against his peers.

Even as the horde charged, the mad warriors around him, Ascendants, Nether Void, even the other two Yang Real cultivators, all held him in silent awe.

This single sight sent tremors of unease through the seven Thunder Celestial Hall envoys!

“Kill!” A voice roared from within the charging mob, igniting the heavens like a tinderbox. The mass of cultivators surged forward as one.

Kill! Countless spells crisscrossed the air. Innumerable enchanted treasures filled the void. The fragmented world housing the thousand-foot portal became a blinding tapestry of arcane light and raw power.

The attack was a maelstrom of unrestrained fury.

“Kill!” One Ascendant, wielding a hundred flying swords, his face twisted in a savage grin, launched himself at a Thunder Celestial Hall envoy. With a flick of his fingers, the swords screamed through the air, aimed directly at his foe.

Beside him, fourteen other Ascendants, eyes bloodshot, unleashed their magic in a savage onslaught.

On another front, led by a Nether Void cultivator, six Ascendants moved as one, forming a piercing lance aimed at the heart of another Thunder Celestial Hall envoy. “Kill!”

Elsewhere, the two Yang Real cultivators separated, each engaging an envoy in personal combat, unleashing their primal elemental magic. Behind them, a dozen Ascendants lent their aid, showering the area with enchanted items and spellfire like a torrential downpour.

“Kill!”

Xi Zifeng, under the guidance of two Nether Void cultivators, led a contingent of Ascendants toward yet another envoy. Their combined arcane power unleashed a wave of destruction.

The remaining cultivators, dividing into two groups, charged the last two envoys guarding the portal. The desperate fury, the unbridled killing intent, coalesced into a veritable storm! A storm of survival! No one cared for the identities of those they faced. Thunder Celestial Hall envoy or not, they were nothing in the face of their will to live!

To stand in their way was to invite death! Gods and Demons alike would fall! The cultivators were possessed.

One envoy pointed a finger, striking an Ascendant between the eyes. The cultivator shuddered, his flesh dissolving, his soul withering. Yet, in his final moment, he lunged forward, biting down on the envoy’s arm. The burning red in his dying eyes caused the envoy to recoil in revulsion, even though it was only the bite of a crumbling corpse.

“Kill!”

Another envoy channeled the raw essence of his elemental power, unleashing a wave of pure energy, the simplest and most direct application of his abilities. The charging cultivators were blasted backward, blood erupting from their mouths, their bodies broken and weakened. Yet none retreated, each one struggling to continue the charge.

Some, mortally wounded and broken, chose to detonate themselves near their enemies, creating booming explosions that shook the very fabric of reality.

It was a massacre!

“Kill!” The cries merged into a single, thunderous roar, reverberating throughout the heavens. With each passing moment, the sound grew louder, more terrifying.

The murderous intent born of desperation solidified into a tangible force, lodging itself in the heart of every cultivator. It was a creed, a force of nature unleashed.

This display stirred not only the Thunder Celestial Hall envoys, but Wang Lin himself.

He inhaled deeply, a burning conviction settling in his heart. With a single step, he launched himself forward, moving like lightning. He appeared beside a Thunder Celestial Hall envoy, his right hand forming a sword with his fingers, ready to cleave through all obstacles. Wang Lin’s entry into the fray invigorated the other cultivators, their combined momentum reaching an unprecedented high. Their killing intent, voiced in roaring shouts, crashed upon the enemy like a tidal wave of destruction.
The Edict of Luo’s Severance descended, a blinding flash that stole the color from the face of the Thunder Immortal Palace emissary, a master of the Yang Solidification realm. He recoiled, his fingers weaving a desperate incantation, conjuring forth a multitude of crackling spheres of pure lightning before him, hurling them towards Wang Lin in a desperate barrage.

The air crackled with the echoes of a thousand thunderclaps, a maelstrom of raw energy unleashed against the advancing figure.

Yet, as the lightning spheres hurtled forward, they met the irresistible might of the Edict. One by one, they shattered, their power consumed in a silent, ethereal implosion. Wang Lin’s eyes, twin beacons of icy determination, drove him onward, each step a thunderclap of its own.

The emissary, his face contorted with fear, retreated further. He spat forth a cloud of ashen mist, which writhed and coalesced into a monstrous hand, reaching to ensnare Wang Lin in its spectral grasp.

But even as the mist-hand took form, a silver streak, faster than a thunderbolt, emerged from the shadows. It found the emissary just as the mist left his lips. The emissary could only widen his eyes in terror, his own vital essence exploding outward in a desperate attempt to shatter the oncoming assault.

The silver light was unyielding. It pierced through the storm of raw energy and plunged directly into the emissary’s breast.

A torrent of crimson lifeblood erupted from the wound, yet Wang Lin, his gaze fixed on the emissary, ignored the encroaching mist-hand. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a bolt of raging purple lightning, a force of pure annihilation.

It struck the emissary between the eyes, silencing him forever, obliterating both flesh and nascent soul. As the body fell limp, the silver light resolved itself into the form of a gaunt, middle-aged man, one of the two Yang Solidification cultivators who had concealed their true strength, remaining upon the shattered fragment.

He bowed deeply to Wang Lin, his eyes filled with respect, then vanished once more, seeking to lend his aid elsewhere on the battlefield.

Wang Lin nodded, his face betraying no emotion. He had recognized the cultivators’ true strength from the beginning, but since they had offered their tribute of immortal jade, he had seen no reason to reveal their deception. He had allowed them to remain.

The slaying of the Thunder Immortal Palace emissary ignited a fire within the hearts of the remaining cultivators. Their resolve, weakened by fear, surged anew. “Clear the path!” Wang Lin roared. He lunged towards a second emissary. Channeling his vital essence, he extended a single finger, unleashing a torrent of power.

The emissary paled, his bravado shattered. He did not attempt to retaliate, but instead, stumbled backward. He was not alone. Every remaining emissary followed suit, their courage broken.

As they retreated, the silver flash appeared again, cleaving through the space before one fleeing emissary. A spray of blood painted the air, and the emissary, hatred blazing in his eyes, snarled, “Soul Hunt!”

The scattered droplets of blood twisted and pulsed, coalescing into a spectral blade, shimmering and unreal, aimed to obliterate the silver-clad assassin.

Wang Lin intervened, his own power a bulwark against the darkness. He seized the blood-sword an instant before it struck, and channeling his vital essence, reduced it to a wisp of crimson mist, dispelled by his will alone.

Releasing the dissipating remnants, Wang Lin turned his gaze upon the six remaining emissaries, huddled near the edge of the formation, their eyes wide with terror. “Clear the path!” he commanded, his voice ringing with power.

“Clear the path!”
“Clear the path!”
“Clear the path!”

The rallying cry echoed from the surrounding cultivators, a single, deafening roar born from the desperate desire to survive. The earth itself trembled beneath the force of their unified will, as the very air crackled with their collective power.

“Clear the path!”

The wave of sound crashed over the emissaries. They stumbled backward, as if confronted by the wrath of the heavens themselves. Behind them, the teleportation array flickered to life, revealing the figures of their comrades, led by Zhan Konglie. Trapped within the confines of the activating portal, they could only watch in stunned disbelief as the scene unfolded before them.

The array stabilized, and their forms distorted, finally dissolving into a pillar of light that soared towards the heavens, leaving the battlefield behind.