Roswell’s eyes narrowed, his divine sense erupting in a surge that dwarfed even those who had newly peered into Nirvana. As it spread, the seven remaining golden giants shimmered with renewed intensity, and within a thousand feet, the air itself seemed to thicken and press in, a suffocating embrace of divine will. The giants, with bestial roars, lunged for Wang Lin.

But Wang Lin’s eyes glinted with defiance, his advance unbroken. The Kun-Ji whip, a weapon of legendary potency, unfurled before him, expanding until it became a serpentine dragon of a hundred feet, which he seized in his right hand.

With a snap that cracked the very air, the whip shrieked, a mournful wail that spoke of tormented spirits. It lashed out, and with a thunderous impact, one of the golden giants, its fist raised in a crushing blow, was struck. The giant shuddered, then shattered into golden dust. The whip, once a midnight black, seemed to molt with each blow, shedding layers of intricate, scale-like patterns.

A golden light bled forth, as if the Kun-Ji whip was drawing power from the sun itself. Now glowing with celestial energy, it danced before Wang Lin like a golden dragon, each strike bringing another golden giant to its knees. Those who watched from afar gasped, eyes wide in disbelief. Even the venerable elders seated on their prayer mats stirred with newfound interest.

“A nascent Nirvana facing one tempered in the fires of the same realm,” one murmured, “a rare sight indeed!”

“I recognize him!” another exclaimed. “That is Xu Mu, the defiant!”

“The weapon is wickedly effective, clearly forged to wound the spirit. Roswell’s intricate divine sense has met its match!”

“Xu Mu, the Devil Dao scion? No wonder he dares to challenge Roswell!”

Shen Gonghu watched the battle with mounting awe, his blood roaring within him. The respect he held for Wang Lin, once merely deference, was rekindling into full-fledged reverence.

Zhan Konglie, too, watched in rapt silence. He could feel the palpable aura of battle that surrounded Wang Lin, an aura born of necessity, of a desperate need to prevail.

Wang Lin’s black hair streamed behind him as he surged forward, straight toward Roswell. He navigated the oppressive pressure of Roswell’s divine sense as if wading through a viscous sea. His eyes gleamed with frigid determination, his left hand forming a mystic sign. The two black dragons that circled him entwined, a vortex of darkness that spun with increasing ferocity.

The vortex became a tempest, the roaring of the dragons its furious song. Wang Lin, shielded within the eye of the storm, uttered a single word: “Break!”

The vortex erupted, a shockwave of pure force that ripped through the suffocating pressure of Roswell’s divine will. The dragons, like black lightning, tore a gaping hole in the ethereal prison. Wang Lin’s cultivation might be inferior to Roswell’s, but his arcane skills were formidable, and his weapon a bane to the very spirit.

The Kun-Ji whip slashed out through the breach, its golden light annihilating the remnants of Roswell’s divine prison. With a single stride, Wang Lin surged through the shattered barrier. The two black dragons flew before him, their chilling breath sweeping toward Roswell.

A wave of icy air swept through the onlookers, turning their blood to ice. Fear etched itself on their faces, but Roswell remained unmoved. A malevolent glint flickered in his eyes as he settled into a meditative posture, his hands weaving a complex incantation. He ignored the onrushing black dragons and their spectral winds, closing his eyes to the world.

“If I, Roswell, cannot crush you with my mastery of Nirvana, then I have wasted these millennia in pursuit of enlightenment!”

As he spoke, a torrent of divine sense poured from him, solidifying into a multitude of razor-sharp needles. Thousands upon thousands of these ethereal slivers materialized around him, a deadly storm about to be unleashed. Each needle hummed with Roswell’s unique imprint of divine will, a technique he had honed over countless battles, a skill lauded by his peers as a pinnacle of arcane mastery.

Most cultivators relied on physical energies for their attacks, but few mastered the art of manipulating the spirit. The mention of a divine sense assault could strike terror into the heart of even the most seasoned warrior. Physical energies could be deflected, but an attack aimed at the very essence of one’s being could lead to crippling wounds, shattered cultivation, or even death itself. Yao Bingyun’s infamous Soul-Searing Mark was a pale imitation, a clumsy blend of physical and spiritual energies.

Roswell’s attack was pure, unadulterated spiritual assault, a devastating wave of ethereal daggers that left no room for defense. It was his mastery of this perilous art that granted him his high standing within the Thunder Immortal Hall.

“You struck first,” Roswell growled, his eyes snapping open, “so prepare to meet your end!” A tidal wave of ethereal needles surged forth, blotting out the sky.

Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed, and with a dismissive snort, he thrust his hands forward. The two black dragons, wreathed in shadow, roared towards the storm of needles. But the ethereal weapons passed right through the dragons as if they were mere phantoms, while the dragons themselves continued their charge towards Roswell.

Wang Lin remained unperturbed. Against another seasoned cultivator, his position would be perilous. The gulf between each level of understanding within the Nirvana realm was immense, a divide that only skill and power could bridge.
But this Russell… he wielded the sorcery of Spirit Sense! Against any other foe, such an assault would be crippling, for the disparity in cultivation reflected the strength of the very soul. In a clash of Spirit Sense, superiority would be swiftly revealed! Yet Wang Lin regarded this attack with utter disdain. As the Spirit Needles, sharp and swift, hurtled towards him, his Kun Ji Whip whirled into a blinding vortex, sweeping across their path. With a series of resounding “Pangs!” a multitude of the spectral needles shattered into nothingness. Still, so numerous were they, a dense and swarming cloud, that a few pierced through the whip’s defenses, finding purchase upon Wang Lin’s flesh, and burrowing directly within.

They transformed into a surge of frenzied energy, aimed at his very soul, but crashed against the implacable barrier of the Ancient God’s Hide! In an instant, the Spirit Needles were extinguished. Beneath the armor of divine flesh, this paltry attack was meaningless. Russell, however, pressed his advantage, his ebony dragons drawing near. A savage grin twisted his features as his hands wove a complex incantation. He touched a fingertip to his brow, never breaking his gaze upon Wang Lin. Then, a flash of emerald light erupted from his third eye, so intense it coalesced into a serpentine form – a jade viper! The viper hissed, revealing fangs dripping with potent venom, and with a piercing shriek, it lunged forth. The Kun Ji Whip lashed out, striking the creature, but the serpent, nimble and swift, split asunder, darting around the weapon to strike Wang Lin from either side.

The jade vipers entered his body, transforming into two impossible forces of impact, each aimed at his soul. One, faster than the other, neared its quarry and opened its jaws to devour it, only to bite down upon the unyielding surface of the Ancient God’s Hide! With a sickening “CRACK,” the viper’s fangs shattered, yet its ferocity remained undimmed. It slammed against the armor with all its might.

Upon contact with the Ancient God’s Hide, the viper dissolved into a cloud of jade mist, desperately attempting to seep past the armor and into Wang Lin’s soul. Just then, the second serpent arrived, jaws agape, ready to swallow its twin whole.

The Ancient God’s Hide shuddered violently, and with a whimper of agony, the second viper shattered, its jade essence flowing along the surface of the divine armor.

This perilous battle within the soul remained hidden to outside eyes, yet one misstep meant certain death. Wang Lin’s face was pale, but his eyes burned with a cold fury. He weathered the assault, and in a blur of motion, his right hand formed a sword with his fingers, aimed directly at Russell. The sorcerer’s eyes widened in disbelief, a look of utter horror crossing his face. “Impossible!” he gasped. He could not comprehend how his Spirit Sense attack, crafted by a master of the intermediate Realm of Nirvana Scrying, could have inflicted no harm upon his enemy. It defied millennia of cultivation! “Even if he possessed a treasure to guard his soul, my cultivation is higher! I have dedicated myself to the mastery of Spirit Sense for thousands of years! Even with an immortal artifact, he could not be unscathed!” As Russell reeled in shock, the ebony dragons roared in to devour him.

His face ashen, Russell knew his skill in Yuan Force arts paled in comparison to his Spirit Sense mastery. Still, he was a cultivator of the intermediate Realm of Nirvana Scrying, and possessed a wealth of artifacts. He reached into his storage pouch and produced a small drum. He cast it aloft, and as the ebony dragons hurtled towards him, the drum swelled in size, emitting a deafening “BOOM” that reverberated with an eerie echo, stirring a tempestuous wind.

But against the yin winds of the black dragons, the drum shuddered, and its sound abruptly ceased.

Retreating, Russell slammed his hand against the drum. “Drum Burst!” he roared.

The drum vibrated, then exploded, unleashing a torrent of force that slammed into one of the black dragons, detonating in a deafening roar that echoed across the battlefield. The Drum Burst dissipated, and one of the black dragons dissolved into countless wisps of wind.

Wang Lin moved like lightning, bursting through the remnants of the shattered drum and dragon. He stomped upon the remaining creature, a look of pure malice etched on his face, and lunged towards Russell.

Wang Lin knew that the shattering of Russell’s Spirit Sense had left him vulnerable, his mind riddled with shock. If he did not seize this opportunity, Russell would recover, and the battle would drag on. And if Russell unleashed his Yuan Force powers, Wang Lin risked defeat. Though Qing Shui would likely intervene to save his life, his chance at qualification would be lost forever! As he charged forth, Wang Lin raised his right hand, unleashing the Immortal Sealing Stamp. It hurtled towards Russell at incredible speed. The sorcerer’s face was pale, but his eyes flashed with renewed determination. Ignoring the failure of his Spirit Sense, he wove an incantation with his right hand, drawing upon the vast Yuan Force within his body. It coalesced into a swirling ball of lightning fire in his palm.

Just as he prepared to hurl it forth, Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed, and he uttered a single word: “Bind!”

The Word of Binding struck true. Russell felt countless invisible threads wrap around his body, snaring him in place. He struggled, and though he broke free in an instant, the Immortal Sealing Stamp was already upon him.

At the same time, the countless golden runes that emanated from Wang Lin surged towards Russell in a frenzied wave.

A sense of despair washed over Russell. Yuan Force arts were not his forte; his true strength lay in Spirit Sense, and it had proven utterly useless against this opponent. The realization was bitter.

Having broken free of the Binding Word, Russell flung the ball of lightning fire skyward. The ball swelled to an enormous size, transforming into a massive maw of flame, and roared towards the Immortal Sealing Stamp, seeking to devour it whole.

The fiery maw engulfed the Stamp, coating it in fire, but the weapon remained undamaged. It continued its inexorable descent, crushing down upon Russell. With a deafening crash, the Immortal Sealing Stamp slammed down. Russell shimmered, disappearing from the point of impact, his face grim, his robes torn. His eyes were bloodshot.

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“I refuse to believe you can forever resist Spirit Sense!” Russell shrieked, his eyes burning, and charged towards Wang Lin. As he ran, he unleashed his Spirit Sense, channeling it into his hands and clapping them together, sending wave after wave of spectral energy towards his foe.

The Binding Word had broken, and Wang Lin felt a jolt of backlash. Even as he moved, he slapped his storage pouch and withdrew a soul from his Soul Summoning Banner, swallowing it to replenish his dwindling Yuan Force. Russell pressed his attack, never retreating, and the waves of Spirit Sense slammed into Wang Lin.
The Quenching Lash cracked across the air, a serpentine whip of pure energy lashing out before Wang Lin. The oncoming waves of Rosu’s power shattered at its touch, yet some few, like phantom echoes, slipped past and struck Wang Lin’s mortal shell.

A shade of pallor touched Wang Lin’s face. Though his ancient god-hide armor was formidable, the residual tremors of the attack still pierced through, jarring his very essence. His eyes, pools of simmering vengeance, blazed as he stepped forth. Arcane energies coalesced within his hands, and with a precise incantation, his fingers became living swords, unleashing the dreaded Severing Incantations. Each blast of energy roared forth as he charged, a barrage of annihilation.

Rosu and Wang Lin hurtled towards each other, their speed blurring the senses. One, a tempest of psychic assault and arcane defense; the other, a storm of raw energy and spiritual fortitude. Their clash became a cataclysm, a symphony of explosions that shook the very foundations of the heavens! Each blow struck with thunderous force, yet the intensity of their struggle only intensified.

“Enough!” A thunderous voice, laced with barely restrained fury, ripped through the fray. Yan Leizi, his brow furrowed with displeasure, unleashed a wave of raw arcane power. It slammed into the vortex of battle, forcing them apart in a blinding flash of light. Both combatants staggered backward.

Qing Shui’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of murderous intent dancing within. With a chilling snarl, the crimson light in his right eye intensified, and in a blinding instant, the power of the Extremes manifested!