From the Clear Stream inheritance, Wang Lin gleaned the divine arts of Immortal Emperor Bai Fan, mastery over the winds and rains and the conjuration of bean soldiers. Amongst these, the art of Scattering Beans to Create Soldiers held the most formidable power.

Even Clear Stream himself, whose name echoed through the Immortal Realms, held this technique in high regard, for it was one of the grand sorceries that had earned him renown in his younger days.

Wang Lin felt a thrill of anticipation for this art. He drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and meticulously contemplated the Clear Stream’s interpretation of the bean soldier incantation. Then, his eyes snapped open, and the infant’s fist-sized crystal of Immortal Essence within him began to spin with increasing velocity.

As it spun, streams of immortal energy coursed through Wang Lin’s body. Gradually, his original Yuan power receded, leaving only the dense, pure essence of the immortals.

A palpable aura of celestial energy now emanated from Wang Lin, transforming his countenance. He appeared ethereal, an embodiment of true immortality.

Nearby, the Big-Headed Child watched with keen interest, inwardly perplexed. He had long been puzzled by the presence of immortal essence within Wang Lin, as he distinctly recalled that this man had never undergone the Ascension Pool ritual.

Yet, he dared not voice his curiosity. Observing the celestial energy swirling around Wang Lin, he could only wryly lament that he had sacrificed his own Dao Insight to obtain such essence, while this Xu Mu possessed both Insight and immortal energy concurrently.

Guided by Clear Stream’s teachings, Wang Lin formed the unique hand seals for the Scatter Beans to Create Soldiers technique, channeling his Immortal Essence as the wheel spun.

To conjure bean soldiers, one must first unlock the Gate of Rebirth, drawing forth the souls of those slain by the caster. These souls would then be shaped into mystical constructs, imbued with arcane power, and then, and only then, could the beans be scattered.

The strength of this sorcery varied with the caster. Bai Fan, with a single casting, could unleash bean soldiers that swarmed across the heavens, nigh unstoppable. Clear Stream, wielding this technique, could leverage his mountain of slaughter to instill a profound fear, subduing his foes before the first blow was even struck.

The instant the hand seals were completed, Wang Lin’s Immortal Essence surged through his arms and into his fingertips. The heavens themselves seemed to react, shifting and swirling. A stream of celestial energy erupted from Wang Lin’s hands, intertwining and converging before him, slowly beginning to rotate.

At first, the vortex spun gently, but as Wang Lin’s Immortal Essence flowed faster, the rotation accelerated until it became a whirlwind.

With a resounding whoosh, the vortex expanded, rapidly growing to the size of a man. The speed of its rotation was so intense that, to the naked eye, it appeared motionless, a static void; yet, within, the swirling reached its peak.

Wang Lin knew that, had he not absorbed the immense amount of Immortal Essence from the Immortal Remains Clan’s seventeenth level, he could never have sustained this vortex. Had he attempted this before, his Immortal Essence would have collapsed, dissipating before the technique was even complete.

Even now, bolstered by the vast influx of celestial energy, the bean of Immortal Essence within him having grown to the size of an infant’s fist, Wang Lin could feel it rapidly draining. He estimated that the vortex could only be maintained for, at most, three days!

This vortex, Wang Lin understood, was forged by the power of Immortal Essence, unlocking his personal Gate of Rebirth. In truth, it was merely an illusion, a trick of the mind, relying on the caster’s memories to draw forth the souls of those they had slain.

Though simply conjured from memory, the souls drawn forth by this sorcery were incredibly real, retaining fragments of their former cultivation. These were then ready to be turned into the soldiers of the scattered beans! The longer he lingered, the more Immortal Essence he would lose. If he failed within three days, his essence would run dry, and the vortex would collapse.

The instant the vortex opened, Wang Lin’s Ancient Thunder Dragon Yuan Spirit burst forth from his brow, hurtling towards it. As it entered, the vortex instantly shrank, imprinting itself upon Wang Lin’s brow, where it continued to spin. All around, silence reigned.

Wang Lin’s Yuan Spirit, still in the form of the Ancient Thunder Dragon, found itself traversing a corridor of time. As it walked, it gradually shifted, transforming back into a human form.

In short order, the corridor reached its end. As it burst forth, a blinding light assailed his senses. Wang Lin looked down and recognized the Heng Yue Sect of planet Suzaku.

He saw two young boys. One was drenched in sweat, struggling to cast a Gravity Spell. The spell held a young man in its grip, who held a dagger to the throat of the other boy. In that moment, the free boy snatched up an axe and brought it down upon the young man’s head. With a cry of pain, Wang Lin saw a wisp of a soul escape, rapidly merging with his own Yuan Spirit.

“This man was not slain by my hand, so why…” Wang Lin murmured, but felt a powerful force tearing at his Yuan Spirit. In an instant, the scene dissolved, and he found himself on a road. He saw a young man in black robes casting spells, locked in battle with a middle-aged man.

Before long, the middle-aged man fell, uttering a final groan. A somber young man, standing nearby, said calmly, “He was a disciple of the Old Immortal Ji Mo. We must depart at once!” The dying man’s soul flew forth, merging into Wang Lin’s Yuan Spirit. The scene shifted again, this time to a cave within a forest. Wang Lin saw himself consuming the essence of the vine spirit, Teng Li. The spirit’s soul burst forth, merging with Wang Lin’s.

Scenes flashed before his eyes: from Zhao to the Corpse Yin Sect, from Jue Ming Valley to the Outer Realm Battlefield, from the Fiery Earth Nation, and beyond. Then came the Thousand-Corpse Dragon Lock within the Sea of Demonic Cultivators, the Hundred-Day Demon Slaying Order!

Then, back to Zhao, he witnessed the bloodbath of the Teng Family, the battle of the Snow Country, and the Rain Immortal Realm. He relived the slaying of the Snow Country Ancestor, the destruction of the Giant Devil Ancestor, the conflict between the Immortal Remains Clan and Suzaku Nation, the entrance into the Suzaku Tomb. He relived his entire life.

The Heavenly Fortune Sect, the Land of Demon Spirits, the howling of the Intercepting Sword Formula, the Luo Tian Starfield, the old ancestor of the Illusion Family, the Thunder Immortal Realm, the death of the Blood Ancestor, the slaying of immortals within the Netherworld Beast, the annihilation of the Yao Family in the Western Luo Tian. Finally, he witnessed the battle for the Title within the Thunder Immortal Palace, and the struggle within the One Line Sky.

At last, the memories coalesced, and Wang Lin felt a jolt, as if a mighty force had seized him and was pulling him upwards. His eyes snapped open, and he found himself drenched in sweat. All around him was familiar – the mountain peak where he had stood.
The vortex above his brow stilled, its celestial energies resolving into a shimmering stream that flowed into Wang Lin, shrinking the nascent celestial crystal within him by nearly two-thirds.

A lifetime of bloodshed washed over him once more, but this time, the echoes resonated deeply, like a dream whose edges blurred the line with reality. Was he still caught within its grasp, yet to awaken?

“Such potent sorcery!” Wang Lin exhaled, the breath carrying the weight of ages. The Celestial Emperor Bai Fan’s arts were born of countless other spells, distilled and refined into a single, devastating technique. Yet, to master it, one had to traverse the whole path, experiencing each individual spell.

Wang Lin pondered, his resolve for the second step of Bean Soldiers already firm. He meticulously reviewed his plans, and with a surge of will, the Yellow Springs materialized above him.

The Yellow Springs flowed, its surface churning with palpable resentment. Guided by Wang Lin’s hand, the river bent, its head meeting its tail, forming a perfect circle. A wave of raw power erupted from the self-contained loop.

Gazing upon this celestial ouroboros, Wang Lin inhaled deeply and spat forth an artifact – the Seal of Immortals. It shimmered, rising to meet the Yellow Springs in the heavens.

The Seal fused with the spectral river, and a host of golden runes, numbering in the hundreds of thousands, erupted across its surface. They spread, merging into the Yellow Springs, stirring it into a frenzy. The runes brought a profound transformation, imbuing the river with celestial fire.

The entirety of the Yellow Springs, emblazoned with its golden script, swept across the sky, collapsing back into the Seal of Immortals, becoming one. A pulse of obsidian light washed over Wang Lin’s desolate star, a palpable pressure emanating from within the Seal itself. The seal’s appearance shifted; the golden runes were gone, replaced by an all-consuming darkness. Yet, from this void, a potent power surged, like a cacophony of tormented souls clawing to escape.

More terrifying still, the Seal bore new markings – a series of ringed fissures, dividing it into eighteen distinct layers!

Each layer pulsed with concentrated resentment, sealed behind a veil of obsidian light. The deeper the layer, the more potent the hatred that simmered within. This was Wang Lin’s personalized domain, forged for the Bean Soldiers. Bai Fan possessed the Void Sky Realm; Clear Water, the Prison of Painted Lands. Wang Lin’s was the Eighteen Layers of Hell Reincarnation Realm, anchored by the Seal of Immortals! The Seal was his foundation, the golden runes its chains, the Yellow Springs its reincarnation cycle, and resentment its pervasive atmosphere, giving rise to the eighteen hellish layers!

The lower the layer, the more powerful the soul it could contain. As it stood, only the fourteenth layer held a prisoner: the Blood Ancestor, cloaked in a crimson mist, his fleeting form radiating hatred that could shake the heavens.

Within the thirteenth layer, the souls of hundreds of Immortals, slain by Wang Lin among the Immortal Relic Clan, clung to existence. Their mournful wails echoed through the void, desperate attempts to break free, only to be eternally imprisoned. Amongst them were members of the Yao family, their fury a tangible presence, and the souls of others Wang Lin had vanquished throughout the Luo Tian Starfield, their cultivations reaching at least the Yang Solidification stage!

Bean Soldiers was a barbaric art, ripping souls from the cycle of reincarnation and binding them to its master’s will. Wang Lin rose, his gaze fixed on the eighteen layers of Hell that hung in the sky. A vortex opened on his brow, and his nascent soul emerged, exhaling a cloud of spiritual essence.

The essence was tainted with countless shadows, each one an echo of those Wang Lin had extinguished. They surged towards the Seal of Immortals, the weakest devoured by the upper layers, the strongest reserved for the deepest depths.

Simultaneously, Wang Lin retrieved his Soul Banner. His eyes gleamed with icy focus, and he unfurled the banner. Souls poured forth in a torrent, a legion ready to serve.