The ebon tide churned and writhed in a monstrous vortex, its expanse a ghastly crimson wound upon the world. From afar, it resembled a blood-soaked leviathan rising to devour the very heavens, a miasma of putrescence clinging to the air.

Like the maw of some primeval beast, the crimson whirlpool roared upwards, a mournful wail echoing through the desolate expanse. A thousand fathoms of distance were swallowed in the blink of an eye as the swirling horror ascended.

Wang Lin, clutching Situ Nan, channeled the tempestuous currents of his vital essence. A boundless sea of crimson fire erupted around him, and with a swift incantation, he unleashed a dozen reversed celestial blades into the inferno. They danced within the flames, conjuring a whirling vortex of incandescent energy, a bulwark against the encroaching stench and malevolent aura.

The fiery gyre crackled and spat as it devoured the incoming essence, creating a formidable barrier. Should even a whisper of that vile substance infiltrate his being, it would cripple his essence. Though Wang Lin possessed the sacred Vermillion Bird fire within his core, he dared not risk such folly.

Harnessing the reversed momentum, the fiery whirlpool clawed its way upwards, gaining nearly a hundred fathoms. With a guttural roar, Wang Lin hurled Situ Nan towards the light.

Situ Nan soared above him, and in that instant, Wang Lin infused him with a surge of potent force.

The Vermillion Bird fire within Wang Lin’s essence burned with a fearsome heat. The malevolent essence poisoning Situ Nan’s core was a frigid current, its icy tendrils binding his power in chains. Now, with the infusion of Wang Lin’s fiery might, the frozen pathways began to thaw. Situ Nan, a formidable cultivator in his own right, seized the opportunity, forcing his essence to surge once more. A series of explosive cracks echoed from within his body as he roared and rose into the air.

Had the spectral figure been at its apex, a single wave of its essence would have crushed Wang Lin and Situ Nan without a chance. But countless years of imprisonment had weakened it, and Wang Lin’s Vermillion Bird fire burned with unmatched purity. Only through this confluence of circumstance did they stand a chance to break free.

Situ Nan’s long hair billowed as his essence flowed anew, still sluggish but unbowed. Time for healing was a luxury they could not afford. As he soared, his right hand weaved a swift incantation, and with a guttural cry, he plunged it downwards. Five beams of golden light erupted from his fingers, hurtling towards Wang Lin below. The golden strands coalesced in mid-air, forming a shimmering net that ensnared Wang Lin.

Gathering the last vestiges of his strength, Situ Nan hauled upon the net with all his might. Wang Lin, having risked all to save Situ Nan, had managed to claw his way upwards, but the act of launching his companion had stalled his ascent. The ravenous blood tide surged ever closer, a mere hundred fathoms beneath him. The stench of death washed over him, assailing his senses.

*Each born bereft of reincarnation.*

The grotesque visages of countless tormented souls swam into view, sending a shiver down Wang Lin’s spine. Swirling vortexes of the malevolent aura emanated from the blood tide, reaching for him with icy tendrils.

Just then, Situ Nan’s net descended, enveloping Wang Lin in its golden embrace. With a roar of effort, Situ Nan pulled, and Wang Lin was yanked upwards, the net a lifeline in the abyss. Together, they traded places, a dance of mutual salvation, slowly but surely distancing themselves from the encroaching crimson sea.

Such a feat could only be accomplished by Wang Lin and Situ Nan. To others, it would seem a simple act, but in truth, it demanded perfect understanding, absolute trust, and a flawless grasp of timing. A single misstep, a flicker of doubt, and both would have been consumed.

For in such perilous straits, the heart cries out for self-preservation above all else. To willingly place oneself in danger to save another, that was a sacrifice few cultivators were willing to make.

Situ Nan had risked everything to save Wang Lin, and now, Wang Lin would do the same, unflinching in the face of oblivion.

As the brothers fought their desperate escape, Ling Tianhou, ravaged by the initial onslaught of malevolent essence, lost control of his power and plummeted downwards.

But Ling Tianhou’s cultivation far surpassed Situ Nan’s. Even as he fell, a flicker of power returned to him. Yet, he was too close to the crimson vortex, his fate hanging in the balance. If his essence returned in full, perhaps he could escape. But at this moment, with only a glimmer of recovery, he stood on the precipice of annihilation. Then, above the vortex, the Celestial Sovereign of Luck frowned, sighing inwardly. With a sweeping gesture, he echoed Wang Lin’s earlier sacrifice, plunging downwards like a thunderbolt.

His speed was far greater than Wang Lin’s, and in a blink, he was upon Ling Tianhou, snatching him from the jaws of the abyss and soaring towards the light.

The crimson tide roared, and from the heart of the vortex, the spectral figure arose. It raised a withered hand, reaching out with a grasp that chilled the soul.

The Celestial Sovereign’s face contorted in dismay. Without hesitation, a flash of grey light erupted from his brow, and from the light materialized a Celestial Sovereign garbed in grey. The moment it appeared, the grey-clad Sovereign weaved a swift incantation and pointed a finger towards the vortex. A shrill, keening wail filled the air.

Invisible currents of murderous intent swirled into existence, cloaking the world in an aura of death. Like tendrils of ethereal smoke, these currents were vast, their presence overwhelming.

Gathering all of the murderous intent, the grey-clad Sovereign channeled it into a single devastating strike, hurtling it towards the outstretched hand of the spectral figure.

Above, hovering with the village maiden and the supposed Holy Maiden of Kunxu, Voidchild’s eyes narrowed, and he muttered, “The Grey Robe…”

The grey-clad Celestial Sovereign’s face was grim, his gaze icy and devoid of mercy. With a flick of his fingers, he spoke a single, chilling word.

“Shatter!”
As the words were uttered, the boundless aura of unified slaughter shattered with a deafening roar! The collapsing force of death and destruction erupted, creating a shockwave that propelled the Celestial Fortune and the Grand General Ling Tian upward with violent haste.

The Sea of Blood recoiled under the thunderous sound, its tormented souls ripped apart and silenced forever.

Ling Tian, ever proud, offered a cold glare to the Celestial Fortune for the timely rescue.

Ignoring the Grand General, the Celestial Fortune ascended, but a piercing shriek echoed from the vortex below. A shadowy figure, with unimaginable speed, lunged upward, its right hand outstretched in a grasping claw towards the grey-robed Celestial Fortune.

The shriek carried a terrible force, battering Wang Lin and Situ Nan, causing them to cough up blood as they desperately accelerated their escape.

Others fared no better, ascending with all their might, unable to resist the devastating assault.

The grey-robed Celestial Fortune’s eyes narrowed as he met the gaze of the approaching figure. A crimson glint ignited within his eyes, and a chilling smile played on his lips. He raised his right hand, pointing towards the heavens, and spoke slowly, “Slaughter Ascends!”

At his command, the very fabric of space above them groaned with the sound of shattering stone. A monstrous fissure rent the sky above the vortex, and from this gaping wound, a torrent of murderous aura erupted, far exceeding anything witnessed before. The slaughter was boundless, filling every corner of this cursed place. Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions, tens of millions, hundreds of millions—an endless tide of murderous intent poured forth, blanketing the Immortal Burial Vortex. Had these forces not been drawn to each other, the vortex could never have contained their savage might. The scale of this was incomprehensible. Wang Lin, struck with awe, could almost hear the grey-robed one’s cold, domineering words echoing from the past:

“With a hundred million instances of slaughter, one can defy even the collapse of a star!”

He had never witnessed such power until this moment. Now, face to face with this horrifying truth, he found himself speechless.

The Immortal Burial Vortex, immense as it was, paled in comparison to this unfathomable ocean of slaughter. As the grey-robed Celestial Fortune lowered his hand, the murderous aura coalesced.

Before them, a tempest of death was born. A swirling vortex of countless souls, so massive it seemed capable of tearing through all that stood in its path. As it compressed, an oppressive aura descended, sending shivers of dread down the spines of all present.

“Slaughter Tides!” roared the grey-robed Celestial Fortune. The colossal whirlwind of killing intent surged forward, engulfing the Immortal Burial Vortex and hurtling towards the shadowy figure.

A maelstrom of explosive thunder ripped through the world. The Sea of Blood, once again, shattered into fragments, expanding in all directions. Even the Immortal Burial Vortex trembled under the onslaught.

Driven by the force of the blast, Wang Lin and Situ Nan escaped the vortex, hanging in the air, their faces ashen.

They were not alone in their terror. The old man with the gourd also gaped in horror, while the black-robed man with the black dragon mark on his brow constricted to points.

“Celestial Fortune…”

The Void Son drew a sharp breath, his gaze fixated on the grey-robed Celestial Fortune. He would never forget the figure who had single-handedly challenged the Immortal Alliance, defeating countless great masters, even members of the Elder Council. He had even slain one of their members, taking his place with brutal strength. “What makes him truly terrifying is his ability to see all, to predict the future. Even if his control of slaughter is incredible, his ability to observe the truth is what made the Alliance wary…” The Void Son glanced between the grey-robed Celestial Fortune and the original, the one who had rescued the Grand General Ling Tian.

“If not for the Master’s fear of him, if not for the price of his life being reduced through using the third Celestial Decline, this would never have been possible… He employed a powerful ability to destroy his Dao Heart, and this led to Celestial Decline. This tore his concepts, and he was reduced to shattered pieces, without the hope of merging. Otherwise, today, the Celestial Fortune would be unstoppable, even if he did not reach the third step!”

Within the Immortal Burial Vortex, as the Sea of Blood shattered, the shadowy woman gently waved her hand. A purple-gold rune shimmered on her brow.

As she moved, the monstrous whirlwind of slaughter shuddered and then disintegrated with a thunderous crash. The countless souls vanished without a trace.

This sudden reversal stunned everyone.

The grey-robed Celestial Fortune’s eyes flashed with surprise. He was about to unleash another attack when the original Celestial Fortune, the one who had rescued Ling Tian, spoke calmly, “Return.”

The grey-robed figure turned, a cold light in his eyes. But, with a moment of hesitation, he receded, dissolving into a grey beam that vanished into the original Celestial Fortune’s brow.

The Celestial Fortune now hovered above the vortex. Except for those who had been swallowed by the vortex earlier, all were present.

Silence hung heavy in the air as all eyes turned towards the woman slowly rising from the depths. As she drew closer, Wang Lin clearly saw that her feet were bound by crimson tendons, stretched taut as she ascended.

The Star-Marked Sable, lost in the explosion, reappeared and landed on her feet. It sniffed the crimson sinew, its eyes gleaming with intelligence, before curling up upon it, still and silent.

When she was roughly two hundred feet away, the woman stopped. She raised her head, her empty sockets seemingly staring at them all. Black blood still trickled from her sockets, dripping from her pointed chin.
“Do any descendants of the Rune Clan yet remain?” The words, raspy yet imbued with an unearthly power, drifted from the woman’s lips like smoke from an ancient forge.

Though her voice was coarse, it possessed a strange melody, echoing in the listener’s heart long after the sound itself had faded.

Faced with the woman’s sudden query, silence descended upon the gathering. After a long moment, Xu Kongzi, his face etched with reverence, clasped his hands in a respectful salute. “The Rune Clan… there are indeed remnants that endure.”

The woman paused, a sigh escaping her lips. She had struggled from the deepest reaches of the Immortal Burial Ground, driven by the singular purpose: to ask this very question, and to see a certain soul.

Her empty sockets, though devoid of eyes, held a gaze as dark as a starless night. An unseen force seemed to emanate from them, focusing upon Wang Lin.

“Unleash the Immortal Guard that dwells within your form.”

Wang Lin hesitated, then obeyed. At his command, Ta Shan materialized from the phantom realm behind him, stepping forth to glare at the woman with icy intensity.

“It has been a very, very long age since I last beheld one of my own…” A wistful expression clouded the woman’s face. She extended her hand, and Ta Shan, against his will, was drawn towards her.