A dragonspawn kept two celestial soldiers occupied, granting the Star Wanderer the chance to dart towards the shimmering white mist. Before reaching it, he wove an arcane gesture with both hands, unleashing a spell that formed into a colossal hand. It snatched one of the soldiers and dragged it into the fray with the dragonspawn.

Thus, only one celestial soldier remained unguarded.

As this soldier prepared to charge into the white mist, Floating Wind Master’s eyes gleamed with icy resolve. He clenched his right hand in the air, and the soldier shuddered violently, abruptly halting his advance. He was being pulled back, seized by Floating Wind Master’s ethereal grip, to contend with four immortals at once.

Though the ten celestial soldiers possessed formidable strength, they proved no great challenge for Floating Wind Master and his allies. Watching this unfold, Wang Lin felt a surge of fortunate relief. Had he not fled the Demon Spirit Land years ago, had he stubbornly persisted in breaking the Immortal Estate’s seals, he would have arrived at this very place only to find himself utterly helpless against the likes of the Flowergirl and the celestial soldiers.

Wang Lin maintained his composed demeanor, his footsteps leading him toward the inner sanctum of the Immortal Estate, toward the grand hall encompassed by numerous pavilions. But before he could approach, a startling transformation occurred.

The four surrounding pavilions flickered before Wang Lin’s eyes, turning illusory, their positions shifting, morphing into a phantasmal image. From within this spectral tableau, bursts of intense light erupted.

These coalescing rays formed a visual echo of a turtle’s shell, providing a robust defense for the great hall. From afar, it looked like a massive carapace enfolding the ground.

At the same time, four wisps of green smoke arose from the turtle shell, each solidifying into the form of an aged man clad in verdant robes.

Wang Lin regarded these four apparitions with an unwavering gaze. They were spectral beings, their cultivation hovering between the early and mid-stages of Void Nirvana.

Each of these elders exuded an aura of immortal grace. Their presence was heralded by a dense surge of celestial essence. One of them, with his long, silver hair billowing about him and eyes that flashed like lightning, fixed Wang Lin with a stern stare and proclaimed in a low growl, “Lower realm vermin, daring to trespass in the Immortal Estate, your crime is punishable by death!”

Without granting Wang Lin a chance to offer an explanation, the elder took a step forward, pointing his right finger towards the sky. Instantly, the celestial essence within the Immortal Estate surged forth, forming a vortex in his hand.

With a final point, the elder released the vortex, causing it to explode outward. From within the collapsing maelstrom, a bestial roar resounded, and a creature of pure primal energy erupted.

It was an immense ape, its black fur matted and tangled, standing several lengths tall, with arms that brushed the ground. With a leap, it lunged toward Wang Lin, claws outstretched.

The elder, his face a mask of grim determination, blurred into a streak of green light, seeking to pierce Wang Lin in the wake of the ape’s attack.

The three remaining green-robed elders followed suit. One of them raised his hands, conjuring a swirling tempest of sand and dust that enveloped him, transforming him into a monstrous, hundred-length black serpent. It opened its gaping maw, reeking of decay, seeking to devour Wang Lin.

Another stretched forth his arms, his body wreathed in swirling green smoke. The celestial essence of the Immortal Estate coalesced, forming a colossal eagle that shrieked as it dove towards Wang Lin with blinding speed.

The final elder’s eyes flickered with arcane power. He wove an intricate hand seal, raising his hands toward the heavens, and intoned, “Immortal Mountain Siege!”

At the utterance of these words, the very roof of the Immortal Estate thundered and groaned. A gargantuan mountain materialized into existence, hurtling downward toward Wang Lin with crushing force.

In that moment, the four elders moved as one, their immortal arts intertwined, weaving a tapestry of lethal intent.

Wang Lin’s eyes shone with inner light. Rather than retreating, he advanced. As the giant ape bore down upon him, he clenched his right hand into a fist, unleashing a blow into the void. A deafening sound reverberated as Wang Lin’s fist, propelled by his momentum, connected with the ape’s chest.

A series of sickening cracks and thuds echoed as the ape emitted a tortured groan. It staggered back, but after only three steps, its upper body disintegrated into nothingness.

Without pause, Wang Lin blurred through the air, ascending higher. He raised his right hand, pointing downward, his voice even and calm: “Sub-Mother Dao Wilt!”

At these words, the Sub-Mother Dao Wilt sigil on the back of his right hand glowed with dark light. It detached itself, expanding in mid-air, transforming into a ghastly skull of some monstrous beast. A miasma of black energy emanated from it, and a spectral light ignited within the skull’s empty eye sockets!

In that instant, an unnerving aura of deathly energy blanketed the surroundings. The light emanating from the skull’s eyes struck the giant eagle, freezing it in mid-air. Grey light washed over it, and in the blink of an eye, it became a statue of stone!

At that moment, the black serpent closed in, its cavernous maw opened wide, sucking in air with terrible force and reeking of decay. Wang Lin’s face hardened with icy intent. Stepping back, he slapped his storage pouch and muttered, “Three Nine Swords!”

Instantly, a score of golden greatswords erupted from the pouch, circling around Wang Lin – precisely twenty-seven. These twenty-seven blades weaved together with blinding speed, forming a dense, whirling net of steel, a blade-storm that rushed toward the monstrous serpent.

*Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!*

An unbroken chain of earth-shattering explosions resonated as the greatswords enveloped the serpent. Piercing it repeatedly, they elicited anguished screams.

All of this unfolded in the span of a few heartbeats. Above, the Immortal Estate grew dark as the massive mountain cleaved through the white mist, hurtling toward Wang Lin with terrible momentum!

Wang Lin remained unperturbed. He opened his mouth and expelled an object – the Eighteen Hells Immortal Sealing Stamp! The moment it appeared, it swelled to immense proportions, hurtling toward the descending mountain.

*BOOM!* The mountain and the stamp collided in a cataclysmic impact.

Seizing this opportunity, a glint of killing intent flashed in Wang Lin’s eyes. Raising his hand, he uttered, “Wind Summon!”

In that instant, the very heavens changed hue. A black wind, capable of extinguishing all life, erupted from Wang Lin’s hand, consuming the world. As it swept across the space, four black dragons manifested within the storm, roaring with primal fury as they sought to devour their prey.

The elder who had conjured the giant ape, his face twisted in alarm, stared wide-eyed at the black dragons. “White Fan’s Art!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with dread. Without hesitation, he turned to flee, but he was too slow. A black dragon surged forth, engulfing him in its shadow, swallowing him whole.

The remaining elders, save for the one who had unleashed the mountain seal, could not escape the black dragons. They too were consumed in an instant.
The attack came with impossible swiftness. The wizened elder, the last of his line, retreated with surprising agility, his gnarled right foot planting firmly upon the ancient turtle shell. A strange incantation spilled from his lips, and instantly, the shell pulsed with an inner light – a shimmering, ethereal fluid that rushed upwards, engulfing the elder in its embrace.

As the elder’s aura swelled with forbidden power, Wang Lin knew he could not allow this transformation to complete. With a swift gesture of his right hand, he uttered a chilling word: “Bind!”

For a fleeting moment, the elder’s eyes glazed over with confusion. He felt, with terrifying clarity, countless invisible threads constricting his form, holding him captive in the throes of some arcane paralysis. “Binding magic…” he muttered, a bewildered expression twisting his aged features. But before he could elaborate, the last of the shadowy dragons, unleashed by the fallen foe, swept in and devoured him whole.

Wang Lin noted the elder’s peculiar expression just before his demise, planting a seed of unease within his mind. But this was no time for contemplation. He strode toward the unyielding turtle shell, his right hand rising to form a fist. In that instant, the spectral form of an ancient god’s arm materialized above his own, roaring with a primeval power as it crashed down upon the shell.

A deafening boom echoed through the cavern, as if the very heart of the ancient dwelling were shuddering. Cracks snaked across the stone floor, tracing chaotic patterns in the wake of the blow. The shell shimmered with an arcane resilience, yet remained unbroken, defying the force of the attack.

Meanwhile, Fufengzi and the others had dealt with the spectral soldiers, their ethereal forms dissolving into the white mist that quickly retreated into the heavens. The Silver Corpse, her pallid skin flushed with an unnatural vitality, stood calmly amidst the chaos. The essence of the flower spirits had wrought a strange and subtle transformation within her.

“Break this ward!” Wang Lin commanded, his voice ringing with authority. Without hesitation, Fufengzi and the remaining elders unleashed a torrent of spells and arcane energies, their combined power crashing against the ancient turtle shell.

The cavern reverberated with the force of their combined assault. The shell shimmered once more, its protective energies straining against the onslaught. Distant stone bridges, weathered by centuries of neglect, crumbled and collapsed under the relentless vibration.

Yet, the turtle shell remained intact, its surface only slightly dimmed, a testament to its formidable power.

Wang Lin frowned, a flicker of concern crossing his brow. The protective strength of this illusory carapace surpassed all his expectations. Neither his own god-infused strike, nor the combined might of the assembled elders, had been enough to shatter its defenses.

“Did Tian Yunzi and Ling Tianhou possess such shells within their Immortal Abodes? If so, how did they overcome such defenses?” Wang Lin mused, his gaze fixed upon the unyielding barrier.

He was not alone in his apprehension. Fufengzi and the others, visibly shaken by the shell’s resilience, stared at the ancient artifact with a mixture of awe and unease.

In that moment, as all eyes were focused upon it, the turtle shell began to glow with an inner light. The light intensified, gradually revealing the entrance to the great hall that lay shielded within its ethereal embrace.

The interior of the hall was shrouded in darkness, concealing its secrets from prying eyes. But now, a new sound arose from its depths: the deliberate, measured cadence of approaching footsteps. In the silence of the ancient cavern, each footstep, though faint, echoed with unnerving clarity.

The sound possessed a strange, unsettling power. Each step seemed to resonate with the very rhythm of the listeners’ hearts, as if their own life force were being manipulated by this unseen presence.

Fufengzi’s face paled. He forced his inner energies to surge through his body, creating a shield against the intrusive rhythm, striving to separate his heartbeat from the insidious influence.

But the Dust Dao Triad and the hulking Leiji lacked the same control. Their faces grew ashen as the footsteps drew closer, the blood draining from their cheeks.

Only the Silver Corpse remained unaffected. As a sentient being without a beating heart, she was immune to the creeping influence of the rhythmic footfalls.

Wang Lin’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing into slits. He, as a being touched by the divine, could withstand this mental assault to a greater extent than the others.

The footsteps grew louder, as if an unseen figure were slowly emerging from the heart of the hall. The Dust Dao Triad’s faces grew even more wan, while Leiji’s face pulsed with visible veins.

Leiji, the weakest of the group, could no longer bear the strain. He staggered backward, groaning with the effort to maintain his composure. With a guttural roar, he expanded in size, becoming a towering giant, his form swelling until he stood dozens of feet tall. Only in this transformed state could he withstand the oppressive presence.

The footsteps ceased. They had reached the threshold of the hall. And then, in that frozen instant, a figure clad in white materialized from the shadows.

A gaze, piercing and intense, emanated from the depths of the hall, passing through the shimmering shell and fixing upon Wang Lin.

A sense of mortal peril, long dormant, erupted within Wang Lin, flooding his senses and raising the hair on the back of his neck.