Wang Lin’s visage, though unchanged in its outward aspect, was now etched with an unnerving calm. Sublte, shadowy纹路 danced across his skin, barely perceptible to the naked eye. From his very being, a tempest of power roared forth, an aura so potent it threatened to consume the very stars.

As this energy unfurled, a cataclysm seized the sixth-level cultivation star. Countless cultivators, ripped from their meditative trances, awoke with gasps of terror. A primal fear, resonating from the depths of their souls, gripped them all.

In that moment of universal dread, Wang Lin took but a single step. Ripples shimmered beneath his feet as he vanished from the starlit expanse.

Yu Fei’s face twisted into a mask of venomous fury, his fist clenched until his knuckles gleamed white. He had witnessed the telltale ripples of Wang Lin’s departure, and his eyes had narrowed in horrified understanding. “Spatial Shrinkage!”

He knew of this arcane art, a mastery of space itself. But he never conceived that Xu Mu, this mere upstart, could have possibly grasped its secrets. Among all the cultivators he had ever encountered, those who could wield Spatial Shrinkage were few and far between, especially amongst those of equal standing.

How could he not be aghast? The dossier he possessed on Xu Mu contained no whisper of such power.

Almost instinctively, he unleashed his Yuan energy, a cataclysmic wave that ripped through the void. But even in the wake of such devastation, no trace of Xu Mu remained. He poured his energy outward, stirring the heavens themselves, yet found nothing. Yu Fei’s expression darkened with an even deeper chill; Xu Mu had fled.

With a roar of unbridled rage, he whirled around, fixing his burning gaze upon the Large-Headed Boy, still locked in combat with his doppelganger. His fury, a boiling ocean of frustration and fear, coalesced into a murderous intent that targeted the boy. In a single stride, he hurtled towards his hapless quarry.

“Your master has escaped? Then you shall pay the price!” Yu Fei seethed inwardly. His rage was fueled by humiliation. A cultivator in the intermediate stage of Nirvana Scrying had allowed a mere early-stage initiate to slip through his fingers, to vanish beyond pursuit. It was a sensation he had not experienced in ages.

The Large-Headed Boy, already struggling against the doppelganger, felt a bone-chilling dread. His soul quailed as he cursed Wang Lin in the depths of his heart. He frantically backpedaled, desperately trying to escape.

But Yu Fei, blinded by incandescent fury, closed the distance in an instant. With the overwhelming power of his intermediate Nirvana Scrying cultivation, he extended a finger. The five crimson swords that surrounded him sang a deadly song as they shot forth toward the Large-Headed Boy!

“Perish!” Yu Fei bellowed. The five swords, a crimson whirlwind of destruction, each carried the power of an early-stage Nirvana Scrying cultivator. Added to the doppelganger, it was as though six such warriors descended upon the Large-Headed Boy. How could he possibly withstand such an onslaught?

Despair blossomed in the Large-Headed Boy’s eyes. Madness took root in his heart. He steeled himself to detonate his Nascent Divinity, to drag one of the doppelgangers down with him into oblivion. But as he teetered on the brink of utter annihilation, a voice, cold as the heart of a dying star, echoed from behind.

“This, is Wang’s miracle!” As the frigid words hung in the air, the Large-Headed Boy felt a sudden, disorienting tug. As though snatched up and hurled backward, he was yanked from the jaws of death.

Wang Lin emerged from the void, facing the six crimson blades. His eyes, devoid of all warmth, reflected the infinite cold of the cosmos. With a roar that shattered the silence, he unleashed a single punch. The force contained within that blow surpassed even the brute strength of Ta Shan. The heavens themselves seemed to shudder as the very fabric of space began to fray.

A cacophony of sonic booms ripped through the void. In Wang Lin’s wake, reality itself cracked, leaving a gaping chasm filled with the frigid winds of nothingness. Yet, the biting cold held no sway over him.

The crimson blades fared no better. Wang Lin’s fist slammed into the first sword, causing it to tremble violently before shattering into a million pieces. As the shards rained down, they coalesced into a doppelganger, who gasped in shock and disbelief. With the echo of the sword gone, the cultivator retreated to a safe distance.

Wang Lin’s gaze remained fixated on the cultivator, with a bottomless, chilling intent. Like a shard of glacial ice, his very presence emanated an aura of death. He knew that although the doppelganger wielded the cultivation of an early-stage Nirvana Scrying cultivator, his true body was of the intermediate stage, and as such, their combined power would prove difficult to defeat. But given the option of a more drawn-out battle, Wang Lin decided to go ahead and finish the fight. In a single stride, he crossed the intervening space and launched a second attack, this time on the cultivator. The cultivator cried out as blood sprayed from its body. It retreated several steps, before suddenly collapsing into oblivion.

An annihilation, a final demise!

The death of the doppelganger left Wang Lin open to attack, but with a nimble turn, Wang Lin positioned himself to intercept the blades with his next attack. All of this was done in an instant. Wang Lin was moving so quickly, that he left only a trail of light. As he moved, Wang Lin delivered a punch into thin air. The cosmos rumbled, and a path was cleared.

The second sword arrived, its red glow approaching Wang Lin’s head. Wang Lin reached up and grabbed the sword. The blade rattled in terror, as Wang Lin tightened his grip.

The second red blade shattered into a million pieces. When the doppelganger attempted to flee, Wang Lin shot forth an array of lightning bolts that collapsed on the fighter’s body, destroying him.

The remaining blades now descended on Wang Lin. The sound of the swords colliding with Wang Lin’s body was reminiscent of metal hitting metal. As the swords clattered to the ground, they shook, and trembled, and became still.

From the distance, the Large-Headed Boy was speechless. He recognized Wang Lin, but found that he was an alien and incomprehensible being. He gazed upon Wang Lin in awe, and could not help but find himself in shock. The swords cannot harm him, and he is only flesh!”
A wave of shock resonated not only with Datou, the large-headed boy, but also pierced Yu Fei, whose countenance underwent its first, and most drastic, alteration. The preceding moments had unfolded with blinding speed, leaving him reeling. In the blink of an eye, two of his emanations had crumbled to dust, filling him with a primal, boundless dread.

He clutched at his shadowed umbrella, poised to unleash its power, but in that instant, Wang Lin spun, unleashing a roar that shook the very heavens! A guttural bellow ripped from his throat!

It was the Roar of the Ancient God, a sound not heard in these star-strewn realms for eons. Now, it echoed with the resonance of creation itself, a primordial utterance that predated the dawn of stars.

Before that Ancient God’s bellow, even celestial thunder would cower. The very fabric of the cosmos trembled, for this was a being of immense power. Once, countless ages past, the Ancient Gods had swept across the starry tapestry, their presence filling the entirety of creation.

The Ancient God’s roar carried with it the weight of ages, a palpable aura that washed over everything. Before its might, all life would bow, all power would crumble.

This roar transcended mere thunder, eclipsing it a thousandfold. What was lightning but a flicker compared to this cataclysm? The bellow transformed into a tempest of pure force, a cosmic gale that swept through the void in a frenzy of destruction.

Yu Fei’s foot, raised to strike, froze in mid-air as the Ancient God’s Roar slammed into him. A force that threatened to tear his very soul apart erupted, forcing him back in a desperate retreat. He felt as though a single misstep would result in him being obliterated.

His face paled, Wang Lin appearing before him as a feral, primeval beast unleashed. The sheer power emanating from him compelled retreat, his inner strength twisting in a desperate attempt to avoid immediate collapse.

His ears rang with a deafening drone, the world around him fading into a distant blur. He could only hear the frantic, thunderous beating of his own heart.

Faster and faster it pounded, until it was a relentless drumbeat of terror, filling his eyes with a raw, soul-deep dread. It was a fear born of legend, the instinctive terror one felt in the presence of a god.

For the first time, Yu Fei knew fear, a mere flicker at first that rapidly spread throughout his being.

Even the large-headed child, Datou, blanched. The roar of the Ancient God sent tremors through his very essence. He was a nascent immortal, yet now he felt like a mere insect beneath a mountain of power.

Leiji, too, trembled. Within his soul, a dormant instinct stirred, a command that roared to be obeyed. He felt like a servant beholding his master, instinctively kneeling in the void, his mind reeling with the urge to obey every unspoken whim.

This was a sensation unknown to him, a reverence that surpassed mere awe. It was a strange and compelling familiarity.

If these beings felt so deeply, imagine the fate of the four swords that had dared approach so close to Wang Lin. The indescribable force of the roar warped the fabric of space itself. The very stars seemed to reel. The swords, assaulted by this power, shattered in a series of echoing cracks!

Their fragments spun and swirled, reforming into four distinct entities, each possessing the cultivation of a nascent Nirvana Soul cultivator. Yet, even as they coalesced, the Ancient God’s Roar struck them once more.

Like brittle leaves before a gale, they buckled and broke, their ephemeral forms dissolving back into the nothingness from whence they came. They were annihilated.

Wang Lin took a single step, and ripples formed beneath his feet. He vanished, only to reappear beside Tasan. Before Tasan stood Yu Fei’s last remaining emanation, stunned into inaction. It retreated hastily, but its speed was no match for Wang Lin’s. In the moment of his arrival, Wang Lin extended two fingers into a sword-like point. An endless cascade of thunderous energy coalesced from every direction, swirling with the power of yin and yang in a symbol of twin fish. A single thrust, and the last emanation vanished in a final, echoing explosion.

Seven emanations slain in mere breaths. For Wang Lin, it was but a passing moment. But for those who witnessed it, it was an eternity of awe and terror.

Wang Lin’s face was a mask of cold indifference as he gazed at the pale-faced Yu Fei. His voice was like glacial ice. “This, then, is the miracle I bestow upon you. Are you… satisfied?”