Wang Lin, a cultivator of considerable might, stood far removed from the fragile youth he once was. The forging of his very flesh with that of an ancient god, a lineage now ascending to the Fifth Star of Royalty, rendered him nearly impervious to fear. Few threats could truly pierce his hardened soul.

Unless one possessed a cultivation exceeding the late stages of Emptiness Nirvana, the capacity to incite true dread within Wang Lin remained elusive.

Yet, from the instant the first footfall echoed within the chamber to the unveiling of the ethereal white figure, a primal terror seized Wang Lin, its intensity reaching a fever pitch.

A forgotten sensation prickled his skin, raising the hairs upon his arms. His pupils contracted, and he recoiled instinctively, his right eye blazing with an emerald light, unwavering as it locked onto the enigmatic apparition.

From the shadowed recesses of the great hall, a mournful sigh resonated. The white figure, with a grace that defied description, stepped forth, revealing a woman whose beauty bordered on the divine. Her sable tresses cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face that was nothing short of breathtaking. Even Liu Mei, possessed of considerable charm in her own right, lacked the ethereal quality that radiated from this woman – she was a bloom born of the earth itself, a living testament to the whims of the heavens.

She revealed only a portion of her form, her gaze sweeping over Wang Lin, then gliding across Fu Fengzi and his companions, before she retreated back into the shadows.

But that fleeting glance was enough. Wang Lin felt as though an unseen hammer had struck his very soul. A deafening clang reverberated within his mind, and a torrent of blood erupted from his lips. He staggered backward, his face a mask of grim understanding.

If Wang Lin was so affected, those around him fared far worse.

Fu Fengzi’s eyes widened, blood vessels erupting within their whites. He coughed forth crimson ichor, his mountainous frame shuddering and constricting. Within moments, he had shrunk to half his former size, as vast amounts of celestial energy rushed into his core. Stumbling back, he finally came to a halt, his face pallid with terror. “The Floral Immortal!” he gasped.

The Three Daos of Dust could not resist. Even a glance shattered the composure of First Dust, his eyes glazing over with vacant terror. A staccato rhythm of explosions echoed within his chest, and blood trickled from his mouth. He swayed precariously, nearly plummeting from the air, his fear reaching a crescendo.

As for First Star and First Dragon, their very souls were pierced by phantom blades. Writhing in agony, their bodies were sprayed with blood from every pore. They fell from the sky, instantly assuming a meditative posture, desperate to find solace.

Da Tou and Lei Ji suffered the same fate.

Lei Ji, whose massive frame could not withstand the psychic assault, collapsed to his knees with a thunderous crash, his face ashen.

Only the Silver Corpse remained unaffected, though a flicker of curiosity danced within its eyes.

Such immense power contained within a single gaze filled Wang Lin with dread. This fourth Celestial Abode, but a mere outer shell, proved to be a veritable gauntlet. What untold horrors awaited in the innermost sanctum? “This journey to the Land of the Demon Spirits,” Wang Lin mused, “will be the most perilous ordeal of my life.” He had anticipated danger, yet he had underestimated the strength needed to even navigate the outer halls.

As the white figure vanished into the shadows, Wang Lin’s eyes hardened. He understood the unspoken message – a warning, directed especially at him: Do not enter! In ordinary circumstances, faced with such a threat, Wang Lin would have wisely retreated. After all, he was trespassing.

But this journey was paramount. For Zhou Yi, whose fate remained uncertain, he would do anything. Zhou Yi’s greatest wish was to resurrect Qing Shuang, and that hope rested upon Qing Lin, her father. Wang Lin owed Zhou Yi a debt he could never repay. Much like Sima Nan, who had set Wang Lin on the path of cultivation, Zhou Yi had been instrumental in his growth. Without the Pinnacle Seeker Crystal, Wang Lin would have long ago crumbled to dust.

Furthermore, Sima Nan suffered from a deadly poison, and even though it was temporarily suppressed, both knew that if it was not cured in time, the consequences would be dire. The hopes of the two most important people in his life rested upon the Land of the Demon Spirits. Even if this place was a nest of horrors, Wang Lin would not yield! He would trespass, he would commit perceived wrongs, and he would not regret it. The world was filled with shades of gray; in Wang Lin’s heart, it was for Zhou Yi and Sima Nan.

But from the perspective of the white figure, the intruders were in the wrong.

“Having made my choice, I will press on,” Wang Lin declared, taking a deep breath. Standing before the tortoise shell, he raised his right hand. The hall erupted in a cacophony of sound, as if the very fabric of reality was being torn.

A torrent of black light coalesced from the rift, forming a spectral spear in Wang Lin’s grasp. Arcs of black lightning crackled around the weapon, adding to the symphony of dread. Behind him, a phantom of an ancient god emerged, mirroring Wang Lin’s actions, its spectral hand grasping a similar spear. A surge of celestial power flooded the chamber as Wang Lin gripped the God-Slaying Spear, and the very stones beneath his feet began to tremble.

Even the stream ceased to flow, its waters levitating into the air. In the distance, dust rose from the shattered pavilions that had been damaged in the earlier assault.

The entire chamber hung in a state of eerie suspension.

“I do not wish to harm,” Wang Lin declared, his voice resonating with power. “The four souls that you sent were merely fragments of your essence. I only seek to breach this shell and open the passage!” The third eye on Wang Lin’s brow slowly opened, and beneath its veil, the five stars of his Royal Ancient God lineage spun with increasing velocity, their divine power surging through his body.

Wang Lin moved with sudden speed, his right hand slashing the air with the God-Slaying Spear. The void seemed to rip asunder, and grasping the spear tightly, Wang Lin became a bolt of lightning, hurtling toward the tortoise shell. As he drew near, Wang Lin soared into the air, his eyes blazing with determination. “Fu Fengzi, Silver Corpse, aid me in breaking this shell!”

Fu Fengzi gritted his teeth, his body blurring as it shrank once more, becoming human-sized. Golden light pulsed within him, and a massive stone tablet materialized. Covered in arcane symbols, it floated before Fu Fengzi, who thrust his fingers forward, sending the tablet crashing towards the tortoise shell.

A deafening boom shook the chamber as the tablet struck, causing the shell to flicker violently. At the same time, the Silver Corpse opened its jaws, releasing a plume of iridescent smoke that drifted towards the shell. Upon contact, the smoke spread across the surface, eating away at the defenses. The flickering of the shell intensified, and in that moment, Wang Lin acted without hesitation, casting the God-Slaying Spear with all his might.

The spear roared like a dragon, streaking towards the shimmering tortoise shell. So swift was its descent that the tip struck within an instant! A ripple of energy burst outward, and a web of cracks appeared on the shell. The iridescent smoke seeped into the fissures, and the combination of its corrosive power and the impact of the tablet caused the shell to crumble with a final, earth-shattering crash!

Light flooded the chamber as the shattered fragments of the shell swirled away. The God-Slaying Spear, at the apex of its power in Wang Lin’s hands, pierced through the shell, hurtling towards the great hall below. The iridescent smoke followed, but then… a wave of chilling dread, a primal terror greater than any before, washed over Wang Lin.

A delicate, white hand emerged from the shadows and gently touched the spear. A cascade of multi-colored flowers bloomed into existence, swarming the area and bringing the spear to a halt.

The iridescent smoke condensed into a vibrant flower that hung suspended in the air.

The white figure emerged gracefully, raising her head, fixing Wang Lin with a frigid gaze. She raised her hand and pointed! In that instant, Wang Lin’s eyes widened, and he spat forth an object – the fragment of the Thunder Celestial Realm given to him by Yan Leizi as a life-saving measure! The fragment was marred by cracks, remnants of an earlier battle. It swelled in size, transforming into a hundred-foot shield! But then, a wave of flowers bloomed upon its surface, their exotic beauty tinged with a sense of dread.

“I warned you,” a soft, yet glacial voice echoed through the hall. As the words hung in the air, the flower-covered fragment shattered into a thousand pieces.