As the gateway to the Allied Starfields tore open, the rift expanded with impossible speed, engulfing vast stretches of the cosmos in the blink of an eye.

Throughout the entirety of the Luo Tian Starfield, cultivators paused, their gazes drawn to the spectacle. Eyes gleamed with avarice, piercing through the very fabric of space, as if to reach into the Allied Starfields themselves.

“The Luo Tian Alliance War begins now!” Yan Lei Zi’s laughter echoed, reverberating across the heavens, sparking a chorus of war cries that filled the air.

“The Four Armies of the East, West, North, and South shall invade the Alliance! Take three cultivation stars apiece within three days, and claim them as our foothold in this conquest!” Yan Lei Zi’s pronouncement thundered forth.

Outside the Thunder Immortal Palace, in the Eastern Starfield, the ten thousand silent cultivators, roused by the armored warrior’s signal, surged forward like a torrent of shooting stars, hurtling towards the rift in the heavens.

An aura of grim determination hung heavy in the air as the streaking figures plunged into the Allied Starfield, the Northern legions following close behind. Soon, the armies of the West and South joined the fray. The skies filled with the blinding flash of swords and the roar of spells as the vanguard tore into the Alliance.

“Thunder Immortals and the Hundred and Eight Celestials! Take up your banners and lead the charge into the Alliance!”

From within the Thunder Immortal Palace, the Hundred and Eight Celestials shot forth, splitting the very heavens with their speed as they plunged into the gaping rift, their presence radiating a palpable sense of deadly purpose.

“For Luo Tian!” The shout erupted from the assembled ranks, igniting the flames of war to a fever pitch.

“Luo Tian Starfield, activate the Grand Transference!” Yan Lei Zi’s command resonated across the starfield, causing the teleportation stones on every cultivation star to shatter, reforming into massive teleportation arrays.

Led by their clan elders, countless cultivators stepped into the arrays, emerging moments later beside the celestial rift near the Thunder Immortal Palace. With greed burning in their eyes, they, too, threw themselves into the breach.

As the flood of cultivators poured into the Allied Starfields, the prologue to a cosmic calamity was written.

Yan Lei Zi strode through the rift, setting foot upon the soil of the Alliance, and a storm of ancient hatred ignited within his gaze.

“Chong Xuan Zi! I have returned!”

Far across the Allied Starfields, in the west, a thousand-foot-long rift spewed forth an icy chill as hordes of Luo Tian warriors spilled into the void.

This was a true war between starfields, devoid of moral distinction.

Farther out, a fleet of Allied Starfield cultivators, newly approved to establish a Sixth-Grade Cultivation Kingdom, traveled to their designated star.

The scene before them sent waves of horror through their ranks.

“Scatter! Retreat to Xuan Ting Star!” Their leader, a middle-aged man, commanded without hesitation, turning tail and fleeing at top speed.

Though shaken, his comrades displayed no panic, their expressions grimly resolute. This was the essence of the Allied cultivators. Death was a common occurrence in these stars. Every cultivator who survived had been forged in the fires of conflict and cunning.

Their gazes, though troubled, remained steady. Without a word, they broke ranks and scattered, leaving each other to their fates.

Some even entertained treacherous thoughts of luring pursuers to each other, plotting a desperate ambush.

The Luo Tian warriors, yet unorganized, quickly detected this retreat. Some immediately gave chase.

One such warrior cast a spell, striking a fleeing Allied cultivator. The hapless soul coughed up blood, their vitality and speed diminished, despair creeping into their eyes.

The Luo Tian warrior laughed, closing the distance for the kill. But the Allied cultivator, their eyes clearing of despair, countered with a cunningly timed strike!

A clash echoed through the void, followed by a pained cry. The Allied cultivator, clutching a spoils bag, sped away, leaving behind the crumbled remains of their pursuer.

Such scenes played out across the battlefield.

Wang Lin, watching the flow of warriors, remained rooted to his spot. The Elder Xiang glanced at the rift, a cold glint in his eye, and said to Wang Lin, “Xu Mu, come with me. I doubt you would join the first wave.”

With that, clouds gathered beneath his feet as he soared off towards the Eastern domain of Luo Tian.

Wang Lin remained unmoved. He had no intentions of joining the initial chaos of the war, agreeing completely. Caution was paramount in this conflict.

He turned to Qing Shui, who stepped forth and drew Wang Lin along, the two chasing after the Elder Xiang.

Lie Yun Zi, observing from above, hesitated before refocusing on the rift.

Elder Xiang possessed immense speed and power. He quickly left the Thunder Immortal Palace, heading for the Eastern domain of Luo Tian. Qing Shui kept pace effortlessly. Wang Lin, shielded by a vortex of dark wind, kept pace as well.
“Xu Mu,” the elder spoke, his voice weathered like ancient stone, “your path to this moment has been paved with hardship. Ponder well, young warrior, whether the journey, the risk, the cost… is truly worth the prize. Furthermore,” he paused, his eyes clouded with uncertainty, “I can offer no guarantee that my ancestor will even deign to lend his aid. Prepare yourself for disappointment.”

Silence descended as they journeyed onward, the elder of the Xiang clan lost in thought. Only after days had passed, as the edges of the Eastern Immolation Star’s domain began to shimmer on the horizon, did he speak again.

“This one understands, esteemed elder,” Wang Lin replied, his voice betraying none of the anxiety gnawing at his heart.

The elder, satisfied with the response, fell silent once more.

The Eastern Immolation Star. A name whispered with hushed reverence throughout the expanse of the Luo Tian Starfield. Unlike other celestial bodies anchored to a fixed point, this star drifted aimlessly within the eastern reaches of the Luo Tian, a wandering enigma. As they sped through the void, the elder would occasionally pluck a crimson jade slip from his pouch, consulting its arcane markings as if searching for a hidden path.

Finally, guided by the elder’s unwavering hand, Wang Lin beheld in the starlit sea a sight that struck his very soul with awe and trepidation – a cultivation star of terrifying magnitude!

Larger even than the ravaged remains of the Heavenly Fortune Star, its surface was scarred with vast craters, their depths glowing with a sickly, ochre light. Even from afar, a palpable wave of oppressive power surged forth, threatening to crush the unwary.

This was it, the Eastern Immolation Star. And around its colossal form danced dozens of smaller cultivation stars, each revolving in a slow, deliberate orbit, like lesser moons attending a fiery king.

The entirety of the Eastern Immolation Star pulsed with flickering formations of arcane energy, a testament to the formidable barriers that guarded it. Woe betide any fool who dared trespass without knowledge of the intricate pathways, for certain doom awaited them.

The elder, his fingers weaving a complex hand seal, pointed towards the heavens. Instantly, one of the lesser stars encircling the colossal world broke free from its celestial dance and hurtled towards them.

As it drew near, its surface erupted in a brilliant display of light, coalescing into a shimmering teleportation array.

“Immortal Monarch Clearwater, Xu Mu, follow!” The elder’s voice resonated with command. With a single step, he plunged into the heart of the lesser star’s array. Clearwater, his face etched with a mixture of anticipation and unease, followed close behind, with Xu Mu bringing up the rear. The moment all three stood within its bounds, the array blazed to life, engulfing them in blinding light, and whisking them away.

When their vision cleared, they stood upon the very soil of the Eastern Immolation Star. A chilling wind swept past, laden with the coppery tang of blood. Even the very spiritual Qi of this world was infused with an unsettling undercurrent of savagery.

Wang Lin drew a deep breath, his lungs filling with the oppressive air. The atmosphere here was profoundly different from any other cultivation star in the Luo Tian Starfield.

Without a word, the elder led them not towards the heart of his clan’s ancestral home, but westward, towards the star’s desolate edge. There, stretching for countless leagues, lay a sprawling necropolis of unimaginable size – a battlefield of endless graves.

The earth beneath their feet was the color of dried blood, emitting a sickly, metallic scent. Scattered across the landscape were the remnants of battles long past: shattered bones and tattered armor, picked clean by carrion birds. Above, vultures circled, their eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger, descending to tear at the decaying flesh with morbid indifference.

The deeper they ventured into the chaotic landscape, the fewer the scattered remains became. The graves themselves grew more numerous, crammed together in a disorienting maze of stone and earth. Wang Lin, outwardly calm, felt a tremor of disquiet in his soul.

Having once practiced the forbidden arts of the Soul Refining Sect, he possessed a heightened sensitivity to the presence of the dead. Even a cursory examination revealed that the souls trapped here were beyond counting. Even at its most potent, his own Soulflag of Ten Thousand Ghosts paled in comparison to this vast, desolate expanse.

*If I could but harvest the spirits trapped within this place,* Wang Lin mused, his gaze sweeping across the morbid horizon, *I could restore my Soulflag to its former glory in an instant.* He remained silent, however, letting the elder guide the way.

“The westernmost reaches of the Eastern Immolation Star are forbidden grounds,” the elder’s voice echoed across the silent land. “Outsiders are forbidden to tread here. This is the secluded retreat of the sole surviving ancestor of the Xiang Clan, where he has remained in closed-door cultivation for millennia.” Though the elder’s tone remained measured, Wang Lin could detect an undercurrent of deep reverence for his ancient progenitor.

Clearwater, his brow furrowed in concern, surveyed the scene with a palpable unease.

As they pressed onward, the blood-red soil slowly transitioned into a stark, absolute black.

Before them lay an expanse of obsidian earth, utterly devoid of life. It was as if this place was the very embodiment of death, an entity capable of extinguishing all signs of vitality.

Stepping onto this desolate ground, Wang Lin felt a sudden surge of weakness. It was as if his very life force was being drawn from his body, siphoned away through his feet into the ravenous earth. He sensed that, given enough time, he would be completely and utterly drained, reduced to nothing more than an empty husk.

The black earth stretched out before them, barren and devoid of any structure. Yet, beneath its surface, Wang Lin sensed a terrifying power – a primordial force of death that resonated deep within his soul.

“Xiang Yundong, descendant of the Xiang Clan,” the elder intoned, his voice filled with awe and respect, “humbly requests an audience with the Ancestor!”