Upon the blasted plains of the Northern League, where once kingdoms stood, now lay naught but a ravaged wasteland, scarred and torn by a battle of untold fury. Tens of thousands of leagues were rendered a forbidden zone, a testament to the might unleashed.

At the epicenter, a colossal vortex churned, a maelstrom of swirling dust and debris, devoured relentlessly by the abyss within.

There was no victor in that clash, no true triumph for either the celestial host of Luo Tian or the League of Cultivators. It was a mere probing of strength, a testing of mettle, yet the cost was exorbitant.

The demise of countless cultivators brought an eerie lull to the starfields, a moment of silent preparation for the cataclysm to come.

The legions of Luo Tian retreated, gathering between the League’s western and northern borders, licking their wounds and plotting anew. The League, too, fell silent, yet tales of the battle spread like wildfire, carried upon ethereal winds to every corner of their domain.

Then, upon the swirling vortex, a figure appeared, as if from the void itself. An elder, his hair the color of winter snow, his presence exuding an aura of ancient wisdom. He was clad in robes of sun-kissed yellow, and were Wang Lin present, he would have recognized him instantly – Huang Long, of the Four Saint Sect.

Huang Long stood serenely in the void, gazing upon the immense vortex below. Its ceaseless pull reached out, yet it shattered harmlessly against an unseen barrier surrounding the elder, unable to touch him.

“This dance of blades, this probing war… it appears a stalemate, yet in truth, the League has suffered a wound,” Huang Long murmured, his eyes scanning the ravaged battlefield. He could almost taste the intensity of the clash, the raw power unleashed.

“The League has always been drunk on its own arrogance. This conflict, fueled by the embers of炎炎Lei Zi’s past… how intriguing!”

“To think, a chance aid given to Yan Lei Zi long ago would grant the Four Saint Sect such an opportunity! ” His eyes gleamed with cunning as he surveyed the battlefield, then turned and strode into the void.

“This matter requires careful consideration, a weighing of options with the other three,” he mused. “The Four Saint Sect has waited an eternity for this day! I wonder, will the Ninth-Level Cultivation Star, the power behind the League, intervene? After all, the League is their only recognized…” His voice trailed off as his figure faded into the void.

“No doubt the Corpse Yin Sect is pondering this as well. The arrival of Luo Tian has shattered the League’s complacency. And Wang Lin… a promising pawn. Letting him tread upon this battlefield serves as a vanguard for my Four Saint Sect. With Yan Lei Zi’s cultivation, he cannot be blind to the mark upon the boy. A silent message to Luo Tian.” A subtle smile played upon Huang Long’s lips as he vanished into the starry expanse.

“This war… it is not enough. It must burn brighter, consume more of the League’s strength! The Four Saint Sect has endured for far too long. The accumulated power… it is on the cusp of eruption!”

Deeper within the cosmic vortex lay the void world of Lou Kun, a realm of boundless darkness, devoid of light, sound, and even the life-sustaining essence of spiritual energy.

Here, life struggled to exist.

This was the Void of Shattered Stars, a realm of incomprehensible darkness beneath the veil of reality. The universe was a piece of gossamer and this place was the threadbare spaces between its tattered weave. Countless millennia past, powerful cultivators sought the Void’s origin, but none could pierce its veil.

Within this realm, a cultivator’s power waned ceaselessly, as if bound by invisible chains. Survival became a constant struggle as even self-sustaining power would wither to nothing.

Rarely could any escape.

It was a place forbidden to all cultivators!

Only those of great power and station knew of the Void’s origin. It was said, in the time before the collapse of the Immortal Realm, a cataclysmic event nearly shattered the heavens and extinguished all life!

No one knew the Void’s true extent. To search for its end was folly. Even the most powerful, those who had achieved the Shattered Nirvana, could not endure long.

The Void was an immense and natural array of absolute suppression that kept the starry expanse forever sealed, denying any escape from the broken realms.

But, was it natural? Few dare consider the question, fearing the disaster it would invite. The whisper that haunted those few was that the void was not natural, but… made.

There, in the heart of the void, Wang Yue, the hound of the heavens, entered. Its colossal frame shrank, drawing all of its might into its core, seeking to absorb and expunge any foreign influence.

In the inky dark, Wang Yue drifted, ceaselessly moving in a direction unknown.

The void forces had little effect on the beast. It seemed largely unhindered by their power.

Within the beast, Wang Lin held Yan Lei Zi’s shard of the Immortal Realm, leaving his mark upon it. A ferocious roar burst forth, and in that instant, a bolt of lightning erupted.

The lightning dissipated, leaving behind a bestial shape, a wolf with silvery horns, chained and covered in talismans. It looked a mangled mess.

The horn was pierced with some unknown object, and through that hole was fixed an iron ring.
Upon the celestial shard, a fragment of the immortal realm, that belonged to Wang Lin, the Flame Thunder Child had sealed not only the remnants of a forsaken soul but also this very Thunder Beast. As the creature beheld Wang Lin, its eyes welled with a tearful mist, years of suppressed anguish threatening to erupt forth in a torrent of emotion.

For all his days, Wang Lin had never laid eyes upon the Thunder Beast, and now, faced with its peculiar state, he found himself caught between laughter and lament. Stepping closer, he examined the iron ring piercing the beast’s silver horn, unable to resist a gentle touch.

That mere caress unleashed a fresh wave of misery in the Thunder Beast’s eyes, its low growls echoing the torment it had endured.

“You have suffered much,” Wang Lin murmured, a wry smile playing on his lips. Yet, the Thunder Beast continued its mournful dirge, as if yearning to recount its woeful tale in its entirety.

Wang Lin cleared his throat, patting the creature’s massive head. “In truth,” he said, “you look… distinguished. Quite fetching, actually!”

His words, meant as solace, seemed to falter in the air. The Thunder Beast ceased its growls, snapping its head, the chains about its neck clinking in protest, the tattered talismans clinging to its hide rustling in confusion. Its eyes, now wide with suspicion, fixed upon Wang Lin.

It had heard such words before, uttered with false sincerity by the Flame Thunder Child. Doubt gnawed at the creature’s heart.

Wang Lin sighed, unsure how to console the tormented beast. He felt a pang of pity, imagining the trials the creature must have faced to be reduced to such a state.

Despite its pitiful appearance, Wang Lin was struck by the Thunder Beast’s raw power, far exceeding that of their prior encounter.

Met with the creature’s pleading gaze, Wang Lin could only nod, hoping to convey the truth of his words.

Seeing the lingering doubt, Wang Lin sighed again and clapped his storage bag, summoning forth his Immortal Sword. A wisp of black mist unfurled, coalescing into the form of Xu Liguo.

Without needing instruction, Xu Liguo, attuned to Wang Lin’s thoughts, understood the situation. He approached the Thunder Beast, and like Wang Lin, he too reached out, touching the iron ring. He couldn’t suppress a peal of laughter.

The Thunder Beast roared, its form crackling with arcane energy. Lightning gathered upon its silver horn, unleashing a swift surge towards Xu Liguo.

Xu Liguo shrieked, scrambling back, but a stray tendril of the lightning struck him. He staggered, crying, “Hold, hold! I mean no offense! ‘Tis only that I admire the ring so, I could not resist a mere touch…”

Wang Lin unfurled his spiritual sense, surveying the surroundings, leaving Xu Liguo to his own devices. He had summoned the spirit precisely to serve as the beast’s comforter, for he himself was ill-equipped for such a task.

He knew not what words Xu Liguo spun, but after only a few exchanges, the Thunder Beast’s demeanor softened, the suspicion in its eyes fading. Soon, a glimmer of pride shone through, its low growls transforming into tones of shared amusement.

Before long, Xu Liguo was seated atop the beast’s broad back, even daring to toy with the accursed ring without eliciting a snarl. The Thunder Beast even shuddered with what seemed to be delight, reveling in its altered state.

When Wang Lin withdrew his spiritual gaze and witnessed this scene, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration for Xu Liguo. He recalled the encounter with the Black Blade spirit in the Vermillion Bird Tomb, where Xu Liguo had similarly woven his way into the spirit’s affections, becoming inseparable companions for a time.

Xu Liguo, stroking the iron ring, inwardly crowed, “Am I not the best, then? I succeeded where that dimwit failed so badly.” Carried away by his pride, he may have gripped the iron ring a bit too tightly, for the Thunder Beast emitted a low growl.

Xu Liguo quickly soothed the creature, and the Thunder Beast seemed to beam, its great head swiveling, and a golden glow enveloping its body. The haughty arrogance of its past was no more.