Upon the cerulean expanse, the sea stirred in tumultuous unrest. Countless wavelets, merging as one, coalesced into a towering wall of water. From afar, it resembled a cobalt line etched between sea and sky, surging towards Wang Lin with inexorable speed.

Even before its arrival, the thunderous roar of the wave crashed upon his ears, a cacophony so intense it threatened to shatter his eardrums. A sense of utter insignificance washed over him, dwarfed by the immensity and raw power of the encroaching leviathan.

Wang Lin’s gaze sharpened, his eyes fixed upon the watery behemoth. Planting his feet firmly upon the surface, he retreated with swift, ethereal grace. Within his mind, he reasoned, “I should have landed in a garden of blossoms. Even if the wards were triggered, I would not have appeared within the sea…” His eyes flashed with determination as the boundless wall of water, howling with untamed fury, drew ever closer, poised to engulf him in its watery embrace.

“The cataclysmic forces unleashed by the collapse of the Burial Immortal Pond have wounded me,” he thought, “even my nascent soul suffers. I must mend myself quickly. This strange sea, if it is indeed part of the ward, will surely bring further trials.”

As the wave pressed onward, a dense mist billowed forth, shrouding all in a veil of moisture. Vision faltered, shattered against the oncoming tide.

The sea roared, churning into an ever-growing tempest as it bore down on Wang Lin, swelling to mountainous proportions. In the fleeting moment before impact, the wave crashed upon him with relentless force.

In that instant, a glint of steel flashed in Wang Lin’s eyes. He stamped his feet upon the water and vanished into the depths, plummeting like a stone into the murky abyss.

As his body disappeared, the wave crashed onto the surface, sending a shockwave of immense power reverberating through the ocean. Swirls and eddies churned around him. The leviathan wall swept onward.

Wang Lin continued his descent, evading the churning currents and ignoring the turmoil above, pressing onward into the watery depths.

A frown etched itself onto his brow. “This is no true ocean,” he mused. “In all this time, I have seen no living creature… and more importantly…” He halted, a hand flashing into a precise incantation. A vortex bloomed before him, small at first, but rapidly expanding to encompass ten fathoms. Seawater recoiled from its reach, creating a bubble of air, a sphere of emptiness within the watery realm.

Within this sphere, Wang Lin reached forth and plucked a fist-sized sphere of water from its boundary. The orb, distorting the light as it passed through the edge of the bubble, floated to him and settled in his hand.

He raised the orb to his nose, inhaled deeply, and his eyes flickered. “As I suspected… this water carries no scent of brine!” He hesitated, then allowed a single drop to touch his tongue.

“This is not seawater!” With a clenched fist, he crushed the orb, dispersing the water.

He turned his gaze upward, a thoughtful expression clouding his features as strands of arcane energy danced in his eyes.

“This is dew! I am familiar with such water from my early training, empowered by the Heaven Defying Bead. I cannot be mistaken. This is not the ocean, but a droplet world, clinging to a petal or blade of grass within that very garden!”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, laced with a hint of awe.

“A masterful enchantment! To transform a single dewdrop into an entire realm, imprisoning one within its illusion.” Yet, the revelation did not ease his mind, but deepened his concern.

“The arts of warding must integrate defense and attack. Few exist solely to bind. This is the immortal Emperor’s domain. Qiū Yáo of the Rune Clan, proclaimed that Immortal Emperor Qing Lin was a dehumanized tyrant. The wards here cannot serve merely to confine.” A chilling thought struck him, and he glanced at his satchel. He had seen the crystalline shard, the essence of Qing Lin’s divided soul, enter the satchel and merge with the yellow crystal within.

“Qiū Yáo spoke with conviction, but a thousand years have taught me to mistrust half-truths. Like black and white: see them separately and they are diametric opposites, never will the two be aligned. Put them together and they create a new entity altogether, gray!” Wang Lin, ever vigilant, trusted only what he had witnessed or reasoned himself. He would heed the words of others, but never blindly accept them.

It was a lesson carved from a millennium of existence, one that would have escaped him in the naive days of Mount Heng.

“True or false, I now possess some insight into Qing Lin’s nature. These wards must not be permitted to reassert themselves!” With renewed caution, Wang Lin guided his bubble downward, towards the seabed.

After a long and arduous journey, he landed upon the gray floor of the abyss. An unsettling haze veiled the landscape. Wang Lin sat cross-legged, eyes closed in meditation, healing himself.

Though immersed in the act of mending, his consciousness remained vigilant, scanning the ten fathoms surrounding him for any sign of the unexpected.

Time slipped by, and seven days became a memory. On the dawn of the eighth day, Wang Lin opened his eyes, and the essence of flame flickered within the depths of his soul.

He fell into contemplation. Here, in the quiet of the abyss, Wang Lin’s mind retraced his passage into the immortal Emperor’s domain. The unexpected awakening of the Vermillion Bird shattered the Bottle World. His memories paused at the image of the ancient demon Bèi Luó’s hand, clutching a painted scroll.

“That must be the Lonely Desert of the Mountain River Diagram.”

“The Vermillion Bird’s awakening was untimely… How could its cry resonate across all ninety-nine realms, marking me as one of the Four Holy Sects?

I must be wary of Xū Kōng Zǐ, I feel as though I am being followed.

And that village maiden turned alluring concubine. Though her expression betrayed nothing, I still sensed a hint of malice.

And the woman resembling a Kun Xu spirit… I feel a similar suspicion.

This quest into the immortal Emperor’s domain demands utmost caution, for the awakening of the Vermillion Bird could bring about my end.” Wang Lin touched the Vermillion Bird tattoo etched upon his chest, his expression dark.

His memories drifted to his serendipitous encounter with Tǎ Shān within the Burial Immortal Pond.

“Tǎ Shān… once my immortal guard. I have been away from him. Perhaps I should check up on him after all… I hope that he still remembers me.” A sigh escaped him. The mention of Tǎ Shān led him to recall the ball of azure energy bestowed upon him by Qiū Yáo.

At his will, his right arm shimmered with azure energy, which coalesced within his palm to form the orb.

The orb pulsed with restless energy. Wang Lin focused a sliver of his spiritual essence and plunged it into the azure core.

He frowned. He became excited, then thoughtful, then his face betrayed confusion as he examined the orb.

Finally, he crushed the orb, allowing the azure energy to dissipate into nothingness.

“A withered talisman… a rune only a member of the Rune Clan can craft. An outsider requires their aid to unleash its full potential. Its power falls into four categories: seal, collapse, escape, and release!” He opened his satchel and produced a scroll of yellowed parchment. Upon it were intricate runes, faded with age.

He had possessed two such scrolls, recovered from the Luo Tian Starfield. He had labored long and hard to decipher them, but never succeeded. His only success had been in a battle against the Luo family.

Having examined the azure orb, he could now confirm that these scrolls contained withered talismans! With a close examination of the parchment, he bit his left index finger and squeezed out a drop of blood. As the blood floated in the air, Wang Lin rapidly formed an incantation, gleaned from within the azure orb, and placed his finger upon the droplet.

The droplet swelled, a thousand tiny bubbles forming upon its surface. With a hiss, it transformed into crimson mist and rushed towards the parchment.

The mist converged with the parchment, and Wang Lin intently watched. The ritual he had just performed would reveal the purpose of the withered talisman.

After a time, the parchment stirred, and a whirlwind of black energy manifested above it. The tempest gathered with astonishing speed, distorting the water around Wang Lin.

Within the whirlwind, the shadowy form of a gargantuan roc materialized for a moment, its eyes flashing with lightning. It surveyed its surroundings, then faded away with the storm.

“A withered talisman of escape, already activated by a member of the Rune Clan!” Wang Lin narrowed his eyes and reached into his satchel, drawing forth a greatsword. He had looted this sword from the Self Domain Ninety-Nine.

Though he had broken many in the past, his satchel remained well-stocked.

Without hesitation, Wang Lin pressed the talisman against the blade. He uttered an ancient incantation and thrust the blade upward. The sword trembled, enveloped in a whirlwind, and vanished.

Its speed was such that even Wang Lin felt a momentary disorientation. When his vision cleared, the blade was gone, reappearing ten fathoms distant.

Ten fathoms was not enough to judge the talisman’s full potential, but it offered a glimpse of its true nature.

“Such speed!” Wang Lin inhaled sharply, his gaze fixed upon the blade in the distance. The storm had dissipated, and the runes etched upon the parchment had faded slightly.

“Even at my utmost, I could never attain such speed! Perhaps it can match the celerity of a Shattered Nirvana cultivator! If combined with Space Condensation…” His eyes widened in elation.