The life-and-death showdown — the pinnacle battle of the young generation — had concluded with Ye Fan splitting the Golden-Winged Little Peng King apart alive!

Blood scattered in all directions. His entire body was soaked in peng blood. Standing in the void with even his hair drenched in blood, he resembled a battle-blooded demon of slaughter — inspiring dread in all who looked upon him.

The Golden-Winged Little Peng King’s body was torn in two halves, his five viscera and six bowels all spilling out — extremely gruesome. He had been completely annihilated.

The color drained from every face. The unparalleled, indomitable Golden-Winged Little Peng King had actually met this sort of end — it was truly catastrophic!

He had originally been an ultimate figure of the young generation — emerging in his youth with extraordinary talent, powerful and domineering — having roamed unchallenged in the Eastern Desolate region for ten years, unrivaled among his peers. Yet in the end he had come to such a tragic, devastating conclusion.

Phoenix’s water-like eyes were written full of shock. She almost could not believe any of this. The unbridled and untamed Golden-Winged Little Peng King had been defeated so utterly and completely.

Zhao Fa’s expression went rigid, his heart tremendously shaken. Regardless of whether it was the Golden-Winged Little Peng King or Ye Fan, both possessed heaven-defying means. Such a duel made his blood run cold.

On another side, Yao Xi’s expression was incomparably complex. A Sacred Body this powerful deeply unsettled even her. This exceeded her expectations — she had a “weakness” held in the opponent’s hands, had long wanted to retrieve it but had been unable to.

Sacred Son of the Purple Mansion, Sacred Son of Ten Thousand Beginnings, Sacred Maiden of the Jade Pool, and the others — though their expressions were changeable, whether their hearts were truly calm was another matter.

Ye Fan had split the Golden-Winged Little Peng King apart alive. Blood ran from his entire body, and his own injuries were not light. The Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Art was truly world-unmatched — an extraordinary sacred art without peer. On his body it had left many terrifying wounds.

The two had battled close to five thousand rounds before the victor was decided. This was the most grueling battle since he had appeared in the world — he had nearly perished here.

Had it not been for the crucial moment when he comprehended some of his own “Dao” and manifested it perfectly through the Battle Saint Art, he truly would have ended in humiliating defeat.

“Kill me then! Ah…” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King cried out. His spirit had completely shattered. His powerful Sacred Body had been annihilated by Ye Fan — this was a fatal blow.

Now only his head remained intact. His torso had been utterly torn apart in two by Ye Fan.

Ye Fan made no move and said nothing. He sensed a pair of icy eyes fixed upon him, murderous intent penetrating into his very bones.

This was a terrifying will — those eyes seemed able to pierce through the void. With a single thought, they could cause rivers of blood to flow across the earth and mountains of corpses to pile up!

It was as though an unrivaled great sovereign had descended into the world, standing atop the clouds, gazing down upon the vast earth, staring coldly at Ye Fan — killing intent permeating all.

He could not see that person, yet he knew — it must be the Old Peng King, whose fearsome name echoed through the heavens and whom all the great sacred lords were deeply wary of, who had arrived!

Ye Fan sensed the supreme great Dao aura of the Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Art — incomparably more terrifying than the Golden-Winged Little Peng King’s by who knew how many times. With a single thought, it could turn a million lives on earth to corpses!

The Old Peng King had roamed the world unchecked, forcing even the various sacred lords to retreat. He was an unrivaled great sovereign of his generation, looking down disdainfully upon the Eastern Desolate region, with scarcely any match.

Now, having obtained the Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Art, just how powerful had he become? It was difficult for any outsider to predict.

“Give me a quick death — kill me. Dying at your hands like this, I have no regrets!” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King roared. Tears actually rolled down from his eyes.

Everyone’s hearts stirred greatly. This unbridled and untamed young king had tears falling down — one could imagine the state of utter despair he was in.

The crowd couldn’t help but feel a chill in their hearts. The Sacred Body’s threat was immense. Looking across the entire Eastern Desolate region, the number of people in the young generation who could now contend with him was probably fewer than one hand could count.

The one thing that brought them comfort was that Ye Fan had only half a month of lifespan remaining and could only survive by severing his own cultivation.

However, many still held doubts in their hearts. Could someone with battle power this formidable truly be someone on the verge of death? They were puzzled.

Yet it was universally known that Ye Fan had been injured in his fundamental origin by the great Dao. Even the Transcendent God-King sacrificing his own life had been unable to save him, and they could not believe Ye Fan could repair himself.

For the various sacred lords had all publicly declared that the Sacred Body had reached a dead end — restoration was impossible, unless a world-shaking miracle occurred.

“I did not originally wish to kill my friend Peng. He forced my hand. I ask senior to treat and save him.” Ye Fan transmitted this message into the void.

He sensed a supreme killing intent — as though a deity was looking down upon him, prepared at any moment to bring down divine judgment and strike him with thunderous force!

Even so, Ye Fan felt no fear. He secretly transmitted a message to the Black Emperor, laying out the array patterns of the Void Emperor, reasoning that if worst came to worst he could seize the head and flee far from the Eastern Desolate region, never returning.

But he was reluctant. The Nine Secrets were scattered across various locations in the Eastern Desolate region, and one of them was at the Sacred Cliff. He truly did not wish to leave the Eastern Desolate region just yet.

In the void, a silhouette approached step by step. Heaven and earth pulsed with each step — this was the rhythm of the great Dao!

Everyone was horrified. This was an inconceivable existence, the silhouette shifting from indistinct to distinct — like a deity approaching.

The Old Peng King, whose name shook the heavens, appeared. After cultivating the Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Art, his divine bearing made even the various sacred lords feel an even deeper chill.

His figure was imposing and magnificent. He wore a golden Daoist robe, his expression without any emotion. His head of golden long hair moved on its own without wind. His gaze was like two sharp swords. He and heaven and earth had condensed into one.

The moment this supreme demon king appeared, other great figures also emerged one after another. It was the great birthday celebration of the Phoenix clan’s sacred lord, and many sacred lord-level figures had come.

Everyone turned their gaze to the field, watching the development of events. In an instant it quieted to the absolute extreme — in the endless mountain ranges, even the sound of falling petals could be heard.

Thud!

The Old Peng King struck out. He extended a single finger, and the Little Peng King’s torn body instantly shattered, transforming into a blood mist. Everyone was startled — what did he mean by this? Destroying his own grandson’s physical body meant cutting off any remaining hope entirely!

Whoosh!

The Old Peng King beckoned with one hand. The head that Ye Fan had been holding flew over, landing in his great palm.

“Do you know why you were defeated?” His expression was calm.

“I…” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King let out a painful growl. His eyes were filled with a bloody glow.

“Forget it — I will personally send you on your way. In the past I was too indulgent with you, and wasted your natural gifts.” The Old Peng King’s words were placid. His eyes were unfathomably deep. He raised his hand and extended a finger toward the head.

“Brother Peng, don’t!” The Phoenix clan’s sacred lord was alarmed, raising his hand to intervene.

Those beside him were shaken even more greatly. It was universally known that the Old Peng King was incomparably domineering and extremely protective of his own. He had doted most of all on this grandson of unmatched natural talent. No one had expected that now he would personally put him to death.

The murderous intent directed at him jolted the Golden-Winged Little Peng King into clarity — it was like a revelation, and he rapidly became calm. His eyes grew somewhat dim. He spoke not a single word.

“Do you understand now?” The Old Peng King’s finger exuded golden radiance. One thrust forward would shatter his head into four or five pieces.

“I understand.” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King spoke calmly, heedless of the calamity of death before him.

“You have not completely disappointed me after all.” The Old Peng King lifted his head, his golden Daoist robe billowing. He walked away in large strides.

Ye Fan’s heart shook. This Old Peng King was truly extraordinary — no wonder he could roam unchecked beneath the heavens.

“Brother Peng, please stay — I have sacred medicine for healing wounds,” the Phoenix clan’s sacred lord called out. Something like this had occurred at his great birthday celebration, and it was impossible for him not to intervene.

“No need.” The Old Peng King did not turn back. With each step he grew more faint, on the verge of vanishing entirely.

“If you cannot pass through the nine barriers set by my clan’s saints, never show yourself in the world again.” These were the final words he left behind.

“The Old Peng King intends to take his own grandson’s life? The nine barriers set by ancient saints — in over a hundred thousand years, the number who have passed through is fewer than ten!”

“The Little Peng King is already annihilated. What is his intent by doing this? Could it be he wants him to recultivate an entire lifetime from scratch?”

The cultivators present — whether old-generation figures or those of the young generation — were all puzzled beyond measure.

“The Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Art is truly terrifying. Only four forms were displayed, and already it was this incredible. One truly cannot imagine what terrifying divine might the remaining five forms would possess…”

Each person’s heart trembled. The sight of ancient saints fallen in blood-soaked earth — those images seemed to still hover before their eyes. Not a single person could compose themselves.

People could not help but look toward Ye Fan. He had actually broken through the first four forms of the Heavenly Demon Saint-Slaying Art. Though he had been on the verge of death, in the end he had succeeded. No one truly knew how he had managed it — they tried hard to recall, but found that sacred art impossible to fathom.

Every person’s heart filled with cold dread, inwardly astonished at Ye Fan’s methods. Were he able to live on, his future prospects would be limitless. Even now he could already look down upon the young generation.

Though on the verge of death, his might was even more formidable. With Yao Guang not having appeared and the God-King Body not having revealed itself — who could contend with him? This was absolutely the most truthful portrayal of his current standing.

The Phoenix clan’s sacred lord nodded toward him, tossing over a bottle of sacred healing medicine, then turned and departed. The other sacred lord-level figures also vanished together.

A cold and clear mountain wind blew through. The ten thousand trees swayed. Fallen leaves drifted in disorder. After the great battle, the endless mountain ranges were a scene of devastation as far as the eye could see — carrying the bleak desolation of autumn’s killing frost.

Among the young generation, regardless of whether they were sacred sons or sacred maidens, all felt a chill in their hearts. The Sacred Body’s battle power filled every single person with deep wariness.

Pfft!

Suddenly, a flash of cold light appeared. Killing intent pierced to the bone!

A faint shadow abruptly appeared at Ye Fan’s side. An iron sword hung across the air, thrusting at Ye Fan’s chest — it was too fast and too sudden.

The pupils of every spectator contracted sharply. Many asked themselves: if it had been me in that position, I absolutely could not have dodged it — I would have died for certain.

Clang!

With barely a hair’s breadth of space, Ye Fan’s golden fist slammed against the sword’s edge. Yet his chest was still pierced — a terrifying wound opened, golden blood flowing forth.

Ring!

A sword’s cold light illuminated the earth. Another shadow came flying — a white-robed figure, white garments fluttering, like an immortal descending from beyond the heavens!

It was truly too fast — the people could not even react. A white-robed woman, person and sword merged as one, rushed to close range. The sword’s edge pointed directly at Ye Fan’s skull.

With nowhere to dodge, everything happening so abruptly and swiftly — materializing from thin air!