The mysterious bitter monk of the Western Desert had his body severed in two, his life hanging by a thread. The prodigious Yan Yunluan had his head taken from his shoulders and was on the verge of death.

It was a blood-soaked scene. Two great powerhouses had both met their bitter end after Ye Fan transformed into a draconic Daoist trace — neither capable of resisting the yin-yang dividing line of the Taiji diagram.

Ye Fan gripped Yan Yunluan’s head in one hand. The other transformed into a golden celestial stele that pinned down the upper half of the bitter monk’s body, and he stood at the center of it all.

Silence fell over the area. Blood was flowing — dripping down one drop at a time, like a mournful melody drifting up from the Yellow Springs. Two great masters had been overpowered and their forms severed by one person alone, and the sight of it made hearts tremble.

In the distance, all onlookers were utterly silent. Ye Fan had finally cultivated the Battle Word Secret, sweeping everything aside with unstoppable force — his methods were supreme, giving them the feeling of suffocation. He was terrifyingly powerful beyond measure.

A long time passed before anyone spoke, voices low, murmuring in discussion, hearts filled with awe.

“The Nine Secrets as spoken of in legend — the Battle Word Secret — truly is in his hands. It can deduce all martial techniques under the heavens and transform into every conceivable fighting method.”

“What a pity that the bitter monk’s ‘Om’ syllable mantra was incomplete. It could not stand against Daoism’s Battle Word Secret.”

“Buddhism’s Six-Syllable Mantra will surely appear in the world again. One day there will likely be a true reckoning between it and the Daoist Nine Secrets.”

Ye Fan gazed down at the bitter monk and asked, “What is the story behind the Victorious Fighting Buddha? What are his origins?”

This was the answer every other person wanted as well. In the later Archaic Era, Buddhism had yet another ancient Buddha still in existence — truly its foundation was deep beyond imagination.

The bitter monk refused to answer. He was profoundly unwilling, yet he did not speak a single word. The incompleteness of his Om syllable mantra filled him with bitter depression.

“If you won’t speak, I’ll leave you with nothing — not even the void.”

“Stop!” Suddenly, a shout came from the distance. Two elders flew over, eyes falling on the head of Yan Yunluan in Ye Fan’s hand, their expressions revealing shock and horror.

“Release Yunluan!” The other man shouted, his face full of alarm.

They were Yan Yunluan’s guardians — though they did not stay by his side every moment of every day. Knowing they had arrived too late, their expressions naturally changed completely.

“You tell me to release him, and I’m just supposed to release him?” Ye Fan was unmoved.

“Release Yunluan at once!” The two surged forward.

“And what if I don’t?” Ye Fan asked.

“If you dare harm Yunluan, there will be no good end for you — the Yan Clan will never let you go…”

“I detest being threatened above all else.” Ye Fan cut off their words directly, and with a “bang,” one finger tap shattered Yan Yunluan’s head — as simply as cracking a walnut.

“You…” The two men’s faces went snow-white, drained of every drop of color, hearts as though plunged into an abyss. Ye Fan feared nothing — neither holy lands nor divine dynasties — and had finished off Yan Yunluan cleanly and without hesitation.

“Yunluan… Ye, you wretch — your life ends here!” The two members of the Yan Clan pounced forward, hair in disarray, their manner near-frenzied.

“Since you miss him so dearly, go follow him — let the three of you be reunited.” Ye Fan collected Yan Yunluan’s bronze battle armor and heaven halberd.

“Kill!” The two great powerhouses charged in.

Within the Extraordinary Masters Mansion, before a graceful and beautiful mountain peak, two young people stood irresolute outside Wang Teng’s cave dwelling, not daring to disturb him.

“Who is it out there? Come in.” A calm, even voice drifted out.

The stone gate rumbled open. A surge of pure and ethereal brilliance streamed outward — five-colored radiance, wreathed in immortal mist. The two young people walked in with tense expressions.

Inside the cave dwelling, a man sat quietly in meditation on a black jade bed. His hair was thick and lustrous, deep black and gleaming. Within his eyes, endless constellations arose and perished — fathomless and deep beyond measure.

“G… Greetings, Brother Wang.” One of them spoke, voice faintly trembling. The pressure this man exerted on him was even greater than that of his own grand master.

“Is there something you need?” Wang Teng asked in an even tone.

“The sacred body, Ye Fan, has appeared…” One of them rapidly described what was happening outside.

Yet after waiting a long time, Wang Teng said nothing at all. The two exchanged a glance, baffled.

“Brother Wang…”

“I understand.” Wang Teng exhaled only those three words, with no apparent intention of going out to act.

“He used the Nine Secrets — the Battle Word Secret — to defeat both Yan Yunluan and a bitter monk. The Buddhist Om syllable mantra also appeared.” One of them relayed the news.

“Is that so? The Nine Secrets…” Wang Teng’s pupils shimmered. From the crown of his head, a divine light surged outward, and a golden ancient war chariot rumbled into being.

The divine light condensed into a magnificent, commanding silhouette — its entire form enveloped by golden light that pierced through the sky, a sacred sword carried upon its back, like the descent of a heavenly emperor standing atop the war chariot.

Around it, divine radiance blazed brilliantly. Nine true dragons, nine divine phoenixes, nine white tigers, and nine black tortoises flashed with dazzling light, transforming into the Four Symbols that encircled the figure.

“Lead the way!” The silhouette gave one quiet command, shaking the sky.

The two young people found themselves standing upon the war chariot — they had already charged out of the cave dwelling and risen into the sky before they had even noticed. Their hearts trembled involuntarily.

Even a single emanation of Wang Teng’s was this formidable — standing upon the golden ancient war chariot, dragons and phoenixes singing in harmony, white tigers roaring at the heavens, black tortoises spanning the seas, ten thousand layers of golden light blazing brilliantly. It was like an ancient emperor making a tour of the heavens.

“It’s… Wang Teng!”

“Wang Teng has driven out on his war chariot!”

“That is one of his emanations, carrying the emperor’s sword upon its back — whose head has he come to take? Surely not to settle a decisive battle with the Central Emperor?”

Throughout the Extraordinary Masters Mansion, where graceful peaks rose in rows, countless people witnessed this scene and were overtaken by astonishment. Silhouette after silhouette shot upward and followed in its wake.

Wang Teng’s every move and action drew the eyes of all. The departure of even one of his emanations naturally stirred the hearts of many, with a long trail of followers.

“He’s going to kill the prodigy from the Eastern Wastelands!”

“What? Ye Fan the sacred body appeared? He’s engaged in a great battle nearby — this time he may well be in mortal danger.”

“The Nine Secrets have appeared, and Wang Teng means to collect all nine and cultivate them in full. No wonder he’s personally taking action.”

All along the way, silhouettes clustered thickly, several hundred people following in the wake. More than half the Extraordinary Masters Mansion had been stirred. Everyone wanted to witness the Northern Emperor’s majesty.

The Nine Secrets had appeared. The Northern Emperor had emerged from seclusion. The golden ancient war chariot moved with the speed of a gale and flash of lightning. Dragons roared and phoenixes sang, white tigers gleaming in the heavens — a dazzling, magnificent, and sweeping spectacle.

Yet when the war chariot arrived, the battlefield was already desolate and silent. Everything had concluded. The two great powerhouses who had guarded Yan Yunluan had been defeated and slain. Ye Fan had departed long ago.

The bitter monk was also dead — leaving behind only a tattered scrap of a monk’s robe. Every single powerful cultivator had been put down by Ye Fan. Not one had escaped their fate.

“What a pity — missed him again. We couldn’t even witness Wang Teng’s invincible majesty.” Some were filled with regret. It was rare for Wang Teng to emerge from seclusion, yet they could not see his unmatched bearing.

Ye Fan knew none of this. He was already a thousand li away. After exchanging a few words of farewell with Pang Bo, Li Heishui, and the others, he had no particular worry for their safety.

The second great villain of the Northern Region had recently appeared in the Central Continent, having been seen carrying the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar before the gates of the Extraordinary Masters Mansion. In the contest between younger generations, he might not intervene — but if someone sought those people’s lives, the living fossil would certainly not stand for it.

“A separation of thirty-odd million li is not so very far. We can meet often.” Ye Fan bid them farewell and set out westward.

It had to be said — the Extraordinary Masters Mansion was exceptionally well-stocked with ancient texts of all varieties. Pang Bo had gathered a great deal of material for him, and from it Ye Fan could now deduce a rough general scope.

Ten thousand years ago, the Central Continent had possessed a Cai Clan at the peak of its prosperity, with a lineage stretching back to ancient times and a foundation that inspired awe. They were suspected to have held mastery over one of the Nine Secrets — yet in a single night, someone had wiped them out completely.

“The Nine Secrets originated in the Eastern Wastelands and were scattered apart. One of the secrets had somehow fallen into the Central Continent. What a pity that the inheritance of the other secrets appears to have been truly severed.”

Yet what left Ye Fan unable to quiet his heart even more was this: the utter collapse and ruin of the Cai Clan — who had struck the blow? What power could bring about the destruction of an ancient clan not much weaker than a divine dynasty?

The ancient texts from that era contained no clear verdict — for there was not a single shred of evidence or a single trace of a clue. It was an unsolved case without a head.

Ye Fan leafed through these materials and found that no conclusion had been reached at the time. Yet thousands of years later, many speculative theories had emerged — each diverging from the others.

Some said it was the Great Xia Divine Dynasty that had struck, wielding the extreme Dao divine might of the Grand Emperor Sword, and with a single slash reduced the Cai Clan to flying ash and dispersing smoke. Others said the Nine Li Divine Dynasty had used an extreme Dao weapon to refine and eradicate this ancient lineage.

Still others said it had been done by people from the Eastern Wastelands — arriving with the extreme Dao emperor’s weapon in hand, seeking to reclaim the Nine Secrets, and wiping out the Central Continent’s Cai Clan without leaving a trace.

And yet more said this case was the work of Western Desert Buddhism — that the Sumeru Mountain was profoundly mysterious and unfathomable, with an extraordinary figure seated within who was fully capable of such a deed.

“The Victorious Fighting Buddha? No — the timeline doesn’t match.”

Ye Fan went on to read many more deductions, all presented with compelling reasoning.

“It has truly become an unsolved case of history — impossible to see through.”

At last, Ye Fan came upon a piece of unofficial historical writing tucked among the materials. Within it was one staggering theory unlike anything that had come before.

“It was not a group of people who carried out the slaughter — but a single individual who, from a distance of ten thousand li, lightly flicked a finger, and extinguished an immortal lineage…”

As Ye Fan read those words, a shiver ran through him from head to toe. A single person’s power — and a flick of the finger — to erase an ancient clan?

This was almost too frightening to believe. One had to understand that the Cai Clan of that era was not much weaker than a divine dynasty!

This piece of unofficial history did not name the individual, but it pointed vaguely, indirectly, toward one figure. Such terrifying combat power — throughout all of history — could only belong to a handful of people. And in that particular era… the answer was all but spoken aloud.

The Azure Emperor!

Ten thousand years ago, a Great Emperor had walked in the world. If such a person truly existed, it could only be the Azure Emperor beyond any doubt.

“A Great Emperor is implicated in this affair. What truly happened back then? Was it really the Azure Emperor who struck?”

Ye Fan was dazed. This was a staggering theory. The last Great Emperor in the world — why would he have done such a thing? What was worthy of the Azure Emperor’s personal intervention? Was there some hidden secret involved?

“So many theories, impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood…” He sighed softly. Too much time had passed. Everything had become a mystery now, and one could only guess wildly.

Thirty-odd million li westward, Ye Fan arrived at an ancient land, encountering boundless desolation — endless ancient trees encircling a stretch of ruins.

All around, lush greenery, vast primordial forests stretching without end. Only this central piece of ground had not a single blade of grass growing — desolate and cold.

“This is the site of the Cai Clan’s ruins…”

Only a few broken walls and crumbled remnants remained. Crows perched and circled, calling out mournfully. The stark contrast between the past glory and the present cold desolation was vivid and deeply striking.

A vast and enormous abyss — more than a hundred li in length — cut straight through this barren land. Rubble and debris lined its edges. One could easily imagine that in former times, the endless celestial palace above had been struck down, sinking into the depths.

“Long ago, the Cai Clan’s sanctuary must have been built over this great chasm — but it was sunken into the depths.”

Ye Fan soared up into the high sky and observed the area using the source heavenly techniques. In an instant, his heart stirred greatly.

The abyss had no regularity to it — it appeared terrifying beyond measure. Yet Ye Fan had cultivated source arts and could reconstruct the topography of mountains and rivers, capable of deducing with precision the changes in terrain over time.

The light in his eyes flickered and gleamed, light and dark alternating, deducing again and again — weaving together the various terrain features of that distant past.

The abyss changed continuously, and then resolved into a shape that held a pattern — over a hundred li in length, and bottomless.

“This is the imprint left by a single finger!”

Ye Fan could barely trust his own eyes. The abyss stretching over a hundred li looked as though someone had struck it out with a single flick of the finger — and afterward, had erased the evidence.

“Was it truly the Azure Emperor who struck? Why did he do such a thing…”