“I… am willing…” The faint utterance, barely audible above the old one’s somber silence, resonated from the distant Tower Mountain, perched atop the Wood Ascendant. Wang Lin remained impassive, traversing the distance to the Wood Ascendant in a single stride. He gazed down upon Tower Mountain, lying prone, his body riddled with shattered bones, teetering on the precipice of death. The arcane runes that had once adorned him were now absent, driven deep within, transforming into insidious killers gnawing at his very life force.

“This mystic art,” Wang Lin stated evenly, “demands of its subject an unwavering conviction, a wholehearted and unreserved consent. The slightest hesitation will spell its ruin.”

A wan smile twisted Tower Mountain’s lips as he whispered, his voice frail, “Speak no further. I am willing!” Wang Lin wasted no more words. Seizing Tower Mountain, he ascended into the void, bearing him away. As he departed, his voice echoed down to the assembled tribesmen, “Disturb us not for three months hence!”

The elder stared after Wang Lin’s receding form, his eyes filled with conflicting emotions. Finally, he hardened his resolve, turning to address his people. “Three months hence, regardless of Tower Mountain’s fate, we shall storm the Xuan Yin Cauldron and escape this place!”

Bearing Tower Mountain with him, Wang Lin returned to the secluded grounds where he once forged his magical artifacts. Laying Tower Mountain aside, he exhaled a plume of primordial spirit essence, enshrouding the injured man. With a flick of his wrist, he retrieved the Soul Devouring Banner from his storage pouch, unleashing a creature held within.

It was a Celestial Wraith, seized from the Realm of Thunderous Immortals! The Wraith roared in furious rebellion, but Wang Lin quelled its struggle with a flick of his fingers, summoning the Karmic Constricting Whip. A series of brutal lashes silenced the Wraith, reducing it to whimpers of torment.

Not content, Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with arcane power. From another pouch, he produced a veritable mountain of Immortal Jade, its ethereal glow bathing the surroundings.

He did not stop there. After a moment’s contemplation, he drew forth over a dozen skulls. Intricate runes pulsed on the foreheads of these ancient relics, each a skull from the forebears of the Forsaken Immortals, discovered upon the Vermillion Bird Star. “I shall nourish your form with the essence of Immortal Jade, empower your spirit with the soul of a Celestial Wraith, fortify your runic might with the ancestral sigils of your kin! Tower Mountain, I bestow upon you a grand opportunity!

If you yet fail, it shall be due to your own lack of destiny, and not to any fault of mine!” Wang Lin declared, his gaze fixed on Tower Mountain, now being slowly transmuted by his spirit essence.

Two months drifted by. One day, a thunderous roar ripped through the plains where Wang Lin labored. The sound was so immense that even the Skychosen within the settlement could not ignore it. They emerged, their faces etched with concern. Leading them was the elder, his visage drawn and weary, as if years had been heaped upon him in these past months, aging him beyond measure.

Upon Wang Lin’s chosen plain, dust swirled, obscuring all. Then, a titan emerged from the dust, a hulking figure over two fathoms tall. Each footfall sent tremors rippling through the earth, echoing like distant thunder. The giant possessed heavy brows and a rugged face, his entire being radiating a golden aura, a veritable colossus come to life!

No runes marked his skin, save for one, an intricate sigil emblazoned upon his brow, so complex that a mere glance threatened to overwhelm the senses.

The giant’s eyes held a spark of awareness. He stepped forth from the dust, and behind him, Wang Lin appeared, his features etched with exhaustion. He surveyed the giant’s back, a hint of regret in his eyes.

“Alas, he only achieved the peak of Solid Yang, unable to break through to the Nirvana Scrying!” Wang Lin moved with a blur, appearing atop the giant’s shoulders. With each stride, the giant carried him towards the Skychosen settlement.

“To think that consuming such a vast quantity of Immortal Jade not only restored Tower Mountain’s body, but also inexplicably doubled his size. And that Celestial Wraith… had it not been for its sacrifice, I suspect the ritual would have failed at the second stage,” Wang Lin murmured, perched upon the giant’s shoulders, lost in contemplation. “Twice now the Immortal Guardian technique has succeeded only with the integration of a Celestial Wraith. Could there be some connection? Perhaps the Wraiths increase the chances of success?”

As he pondered, the giant beneath him quickened his pace, covering dozens of feet with each stride, like a whirlwind rushing towards the horizon. “Furthermore, the ancestral skulls of the Forsaken Immortals were peculiar. During the fusion, they seemed to coalesce, forming a singular, potent rune.”

The Skychosen tribe emerged from their settlement, their faces etched with awe as they beheld the giant. The elder, particularly, was overcome with emotion, rushing forward, his voice trembling, “Tower Mountain!” The giant’s gaze was cold, unseeing. He ignored the elder completely, halting only at Wang Lin’s command, remaining utterly still. Wang Lin dismounted, landing lightly upon the ground. “Benefactor, Tower Mountain…?”

“As I forewarned, I could not guarantee the restoration of his mind after the process. Perhaps, given time, he may recover some semblance of his former self,” Wang Lin replied calmly. He spoke truthfully. Tower Mountain’s consciousness had not been erased, but fragmented and dispersed throughout the Immortal Guardian’s form. The elder paused, about to speak further, but Wang Lin interrupted. He had lingered here long enough. “Open the gates of the altar. I wish to depart!” Wang Lin’s tone allowed no argument. The elder stared at Tower Mountain before lowering his gaze and nodding respectfully.

Wang Lin strode towards the altar’s entrance, retrieving the Thunder Frog and Mosquito Beast into his storage pouch. Tower Mountain followed closely behind, his every step thundering. The elder sighed and fell in line. Behind them, the entire Skychosen tribe followed, emerging from their dwellings and joining the procession, old and young alike.

Soon, Wang Lin stood before the altar. Without waiting for instructions, the elder stepped forward, forming a complex hand seal. The mark on his brow flickered, solidifying into a glyph that shot forth, landing upon the gate. With a deafening rumble, the gates began to rise, slowly revealing the passage within.

As the gates fully opened, a piercing shriek echoed from within, a sound so sharp it felt like a thousand blades piercing the very soul.
Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with resolve. He tapped his storage bag, and instantly three miniature banners of violet silk spun forth, whirling about him in a maelstrom of purple energy. As the first piercing shriek pierced the void, it met the swirling vortex and was torn asunder, its echoes fading into nothingness.

“Tashan, shatter the spirit!” Wang Lin commanded, his voice a low growl. Tashan’s eyes ignited with golden light, and he strode forward, bursting through the great portal. His face was a mask of cold fury. Inside, he unleashed a punch of such might that it dwarfed the power he possessed before becoming a Celestial Guardian. The blow resonated with a thunderous boom, a wave of concussive force that rippled down the echoing corridor. Scattered patches of dark mist, clinging to the walls, recoiled as if struck by a tempestuous gale.

A chilling gleam entered Wang Lin’s eyes. This time, he would brook no delay; he would escape this place. He moved with the swiftness of lightning, plunging through the portal and racing down the tunnel. The chosen people of the immortal clan followed close behind, their faces set with determination.

Soon, Wang Lin reached the end of the passage, where the Xuan Yin cauldron loomed. He saw a wraith-like figure, a woman formed of swirling black mist, circling Tashan. Her ethereal form pulsed with malice, and her screams filled the air with an agonizing keen.

Tashan remained impassive. As a Celestial Guardian, his spirit was bound to his flesh; the screech held no sway over him. Even if it could wound his mortal form, his celestial body was impervious to its power.

Wang Lin was likewise protected, for the ancient god’s hide shielded his soul. The soul-piercing sonic assault shattered against this defense before it could reach him.

Seeing Wang Lin, the wraith abandoned Tashan and darted towards him, howling like a raging storm, seeking to tear his very essence apart. Wang Lin scoffed, weaving hand signs, and the three miniature banners erupted from his form, creating a vast vortex of violet energy, a barrier against the oncoming wave of sonic destruction.

At the same time, Wang Lin retreated, stepping onto the Xuan Yin cauldron itself. Tashan mirrored his action, closing in to stand beside him. Their minds were as one; he understood what must be done. With a mighty roar, he unleashed a punch against the side of the Xuan Yin cauldron.

It was the most furious blow Tashan had ever delivered, a culmination of centuries of impotent rage against this infernal device. Deep within him, fragments of his former self still smoldered, and the hatred that had been suppressed by his celestial existence now surged forth, channeled through his fist.

Upon his brow, the complex runes that marked him as a Guardian flared with light, as if animated. They detached themselves from his skin and merged with his fist, imbuing the strike with arcane power.

The blow landed with a deafening boom, sending tremors through the chamber. Dust and fragments rained down from the ceiling as cracks raced across the surface of the Xuan Yin cauldron, a web of destruction that threatened to consume it.

The wraith-like woman, her attack thwarted by the violet banners, shrieked in utter despair and charged forward, heedless of her own safety, desperate to prevent the cauldron’s destruction.

Tashan, his first blow delivered, did not hesitate. He raised his fist again and struck with equal ferocity. With a final, earth-shattering crash, the Xuan Yin cauldron shattered, exploding into countless fragments. A cloud of noxious black gas erupted from within, expanding outward in a dark corona before collapsing inward, drawn into a small teleportation array that now pulsed with life. Along with it vanished the wraith, howling in defeat, pulled into the abyss as if swallowed whole.

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, he stepped onto the array, bellowing, “Xu Liuguo, return!” From amongst the immortal clan, one figure shuddered, and a wisp of dark smoke erupted from his brow, solidifying into the form of Xu Liuguo. He hovered, a flicker of longing in his spectral form, before flitting towards Wang Lin.

Following close behind, Tashan stepped onto the array. Together, they vanished from sight, leaving behind only the silence of destruction and the threat of imminent collapse.

The clan elder turned to gaze at his people, his face etched with a mixture of sorrow and hope. With a heavy sigh, he too stepped into the teleportation circle, disappearing in a flash of light. One by one, the rest of the clan followed, abandoning the place they had called home for generations.

Deep within the bowels of the monstrous Void Beast, in a realm of eternal darkness, lay a colossal array. It was formed of congealed crimson blood, its power seeping into a crystal sarcophagus that rested at its center.

Within the coffin lay a man, his features handsome and youthful, appearing as if in a slumber. The dark energy channeled from the array flowed into the sarcophagus, nourishing him, awakening something long dormant.

Outside the array, shrouded in the emptiness, sat a figure cloaked in black. The robes hid his form, leaving only his head visible. He sat in eternal meditation, guarding the crystal coffin within the array.

Suddenly, the cloaked figure’s eyes snapped open, fixing on a point in the distance. “They have come,” he muttered, “Alas, I lack the strength to destroy the array. If not, there would be no worries.” His eyes gleamed, and a shaft of black light coursed through him. A phantom image broke away from his brow, and it took form ten feet away, becoming a perfect copy of himself. The copy solidified, donned a tunic of blue, stretched, and then flew off. The cloaked figure did not rest but chanted spells and sent more shades until there were five, which shot away in different directions.

Many leagues away, streaks of multicolored light appeared in the black, and from them emerged Wang Lin, and beside him was Xu Liguo. Tashan was right behind. The immortal clan poured out after them, one by one.

Wang Lin stood there and stretched out his godly sense to the distance. At once, Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed. A figure, clad in blue, sped toward them. It was one of the shade-selves!
“The being slain before… merely a phantom!” Wang Lin realized in a flash as his gaze pierced the azure-robed figure. Without pause, his mind willed it, and from behind him strode Tasha, a towering mountain of flesh and bone, his fist aimed like a siege engine at the azure one.

The man’s face darkened. With deft fingers, he wove a binding, and from the ether sprang a crystalline spear. A flick of his wrist, and it hurtled towards the onrushing Tasha.

Even as this battle unfolded, four figures streaked across the horizon like shooting stars, drawn inexorably to this place. A killing intent ignited in Wang Lin’s eyes. He moved as if lightning had struck him, and with a gesture, the mark of the beast upon his hand pulsed with unholy power. The ancient bone, dormant for centuries, peeled away from his flesh, taking form once more.

“The withered path of the Mother-Child of the Revered One!” The five phantoms, witnessing the bone’s re-emergence, cried out as one, their voices thick with disbelief and terror.

Across a distance of myriad leagues, even the black-clad figure, seated in meditative trance, snapped his eyes open, and they burned with an unholy light.