A vast and boundless great city, stretching for a hundred miles. Its walls were tall and imposing—grand and magnificent—like a mountain range stretching across the horizon, glinting with a faint metallic sheen.

It radiated a dense and solid sense of power. Like an ancient divine city cast from black gold—majestic and sweeping, pressing down upon the spirit until it felt difficult to breathe, bearing the marks of an era long past.

And before this great city, there stood only a single silhouette—alone before this awe-inspiring structure, appearing tiny and insignificant by comparison. The contrast was stark.

One person, challenging a divine city. Standing alone against a great sect that had endured for more than two hundred thousand years. This required tremendous courage.

Ye Fan faced this immortal legacy teeming with experts. His expression was composed, unhurried and calm. A gentle breeze blew past, sending his cyan robes fluttering—he was completely tranquil.

“Evil wretch Ye, you dare come alone to assault our Yin-Yang Sect’s main city? Are you sick of living, or do you simply not know how to die?!”

A group of people stood atop the imposing city gate tower, all of them barely daring to believe it—that someone would come like this, alone, to stand against a sect that had endured since ancient times.

“Dissatisfied? Come out here and die!” Ye Fan held his head high, facing the entire multitude of the Yin-Yang Sect exactly like that.

“Who will go out and kill this little wretch for me?” a middle-aged man of considerable standing bellowed. One person attacking a great sect was not merely a remarkable event—it was an insult.

If word of today’s events were to spread, it would certainly cause a sensation. It would damage the Yin-Yang Sect’s prestige—a young cultivator daring to single-handedly assault them—how could they hold their heads up?

“Set the array markings in place. Do not let him escape. I’ll go kill him!” A man in his mid-thirties leaped down from the city wall and dove toward Ye Fan like a great roc stooping to strike.

“Clang!” “Clang!” “Clang!”…

One iron feather after another—black and intimidating—shot out like a downpour of light, giving off a metallic ring that vibrated through the air, an absolute torrent of them!

“The Nine-Step Death Strike—the Iron Spirit Feathers. Capable of piercing anything. They were refined from the divine wing of a black luan bird after it passed away in meditation. Even a Mighty One can be pierced through by them.” Behind the walls, an elder nodded quietly in approval.

“Crack.” “Crack.” “Crack.”…

Ye Fan made his move. He became a stream of light—his golden silhouette flashing forward—and entire sheets of black divine feathers shattered in his wake, the sound unceasing. With one hand he pinched the lead feather, and flung it outward.

A streak of black light pierced the void, crossing space—then with a dull thud, a spray of blood erupted as it punched through the man’s brow. He died on the spot.

“How can this be? How has he gained such incredible combat power? Could his strength be equal to a Holy Lord’s?!” Those atop the city wall felt their hearts lurch with alarm.

“Wait—at his current level, he can fight a half-step Mighty One. He absolutely cannot contend with someone of a Sect Master’s caliber. He… he’s borrowing the dragon energy beneath the Yin-Yang Divine City!” Someone uncovered this truth.

In an instant, an elder issued a command to activate the city’s formation-markings and draw the dragon energy inward—it must not be allowed to flow to outsiders.

“Ye, you little thief—come and give up your life!” At that moment, six middle-aged men strode out one after another—all of them at the peak of the Immortal Platform’s first layer of heaven, all half-step Mighty Ones, their killing intent blazing.

By now, Ye Fan’s reputation had grown formidable day by day. Even super-powerful figures from the older generation no longer dared to face him alone, so six came out together, joining forces to confront their enemy.

“Go report to the Sect Master and the Elders—the little wretch Ye has come. We will strike first!” one of them said as the six powerful figures moved out beyond the city.

“Do you think six people are enough to deal with me?” Ye Fan laughed coldly and strode forward.

“Mysterious Heaven Slash!” One of them roared, spitting out a ribbon of light that fell like a hanging silver galaxy, slashing toward Ye Fan’s head.

Ye Fan paid it no mind. He extended his right hand and flicked his finger—with a clear ring, the light blade shattered, scattering in all directions.

“Inextinguishable Demon Wave!” From another direction, one of them shook a great bell. Demonic sound surged like a tide, deafening—like thousands upon thousands of soldiers charging in a stampede.

“Halt!”

Ye Fan gave a light shout, then raised his hand and struck out a finger seal—a bolt of golden lightning flew toward the great bell.

“Two-Principles Divine Swords!”

Another shout—a pair of yin and yang swords twisted together like a dragon and phoenix, transforming into two streaks of killing light. The sword energy split the earth open, carving out a massive gorge.

“None of this will work.” Ye Fan flicked his fingers, sending two bursts of spirit-light flying out to collide with the twin divine swords with a piercing clang.

“Innate Five-Phase Centipede Rope!”

Elsewhere, a half-step Mighty One spoke in a low voice. A divine rope—red as blood, shaped like a massive centipede—stretched out for over a thousand zhang and came flying over, exhaling mist and cloud, coiling toward Ye Fan.

“Snap!”

Ye Fan formed a single-hand seal. The Heaven-Overturning Palm Seal descended like an immortal mountain, smashing the thousand-zhang long crimson centipede inch by inch until it broke apart.

The six great masters struck together—all of them half-step Mighty Ones—yet Ye Fan fought with broad and sweeping power, seizing absolute advantage. He continuously destroyed their weapons as he went.

The ground was littered with glittering fragments—divine iron and shattered jade—all that remained of the destroyed treasures. Even six masters together could not defeat Ye Fan alone. This was his true combat power.

There was a time when he had been nothing but a minor cultivator, hunted and chased without cease. Now he could fight six half-step Mighty Ones by himself. The difference was as vast as the gap between heaven and earth—his power had surged to the skies.

An ant and a great dragon have no point of intersection. A dandelion seed and a colourful cloud far above can never meet. They exist in different worlds, forever ignorant of each other.

Different eras, different paths, different people met along the way—yet when one pauses to look back, he has already come this far. His name now resounded through the Central State; he could match the most powerful cultivators it had to offer.

“Six Harmonies Slaughter Formation!”

The six half-step Mighty Ones suddenly roared in unison. All the shattered weapons transformed into light, rising up from the ground like steam—and moved to trap and kill Ye Fan, to cut him down. Streaks of divine light shot upward one after another, forming a massive hexagram formation at this location. Ye Fan was locked at its center as every kind of killing light flew at him.

“Little wretch Ye, did you think we came here to throw our lives away? We came for your life! Today, we will incinerate you alive!”

“Ignorant creature—do you think a place like the Yin-Yang Sect is somewhere you can break into? You came alone to assault our city—you’re simply asking to die!”

The six powerful figures each stood at one corner of the hexagram, each position occupied—their eyes sinister and cold, smiling icily.

“Junior—truly knowing neither the height of heaven nor the depth of the earth! Can an immortal legacy be shaken by something as insignificant as you? In a moment, we will refine your divine soul!”

“You are far too happy far too early. All of you—die!” Ye Fan let out a great roar. The earth beneath his feet crumbled completely. Over ten thousand streams of dragon energy surged upward, instantly engulfing the Six Harmonies Slaughter Formation—the ancient stars extinguished.

“What is happening? We’ve activated the city’s formation-markings—how is dragon energy still leaking out? How does he still have access to it?” Many people in the Yin-Yang city towers were deeply alarmed.

“Fall back!” an elder shouted, but it was already too late. Over ten thousand streams of dragon energy soared into the sky like ten thousand swords launched together, shredding the ancient formation to pieces.

“Puff!”

One person was pierced through on the spot. Blood sprayed out as his entire body was sent flying backward—only to be struck by another wave of sword energy and hacked to a pulp.

“Ah…!”

Another cried out, channeling his treasure and merging with it, then lunging toward Ye Fan with the speed of a lightning bolt.

“Bang!”

But Ye Fan was faster. He stepped forward, activated the movement rune, struck with the initiative, and sent the Palm of the Ancient Human King forward—the ancient weapon shattered, and the man’s body, drenched in blood, was sent flying back.

“Puff!”

Ye Fan pressed in—one foot came down and landed on the man’s chest, stomping him into the ground. He was crushed to death on the spot, his breath extinguished.

The remaining four changed their expressions, all of them retreating in flight—but they could not break through the barrier of the dragon energy, blocked on all sides. Ye Fan fought with broad, sweeping power, cutting his way forward.

“Swish!”

A blade of blazing white light surged upward—he split one person cleanly in two.

“Boom!”

Ye Fan displayed divine valor. A golden fist flew out, blasting the person directly opposite—along with their treasure and their body—into a spray of blood mist. Nothing remained.

“Ah…!”

Another person screamed as Ye Fan wrenched their head off with his bare hands. Blood spurted three meters into the air. Unwilling as they were, it could not change the reality—their divine will crumbled.

Ye Fan’s two hands moved like a weaver guiding a canopy of stars. Endless talisman inscriptions flickered—blanketing the sky—grinding away every one of the last person’s nine divine weapons until they were completely erased.

“Bang!”

He pressed one palm downward through the void, leaving a clear imprint behind. The distant figure spat blood in great mouthfuls as their body split apart in four directions—then exploded completely, utterly fallen.

Within the battlefield where underground dragon energy surged skyward, the six great masters perished in the blink of an eye—not one survived. None of them could resist a single strike of Ye Fan’s divine valor.

Those atop the city fell silent. Such methods could be compared to a Holy Lord’s. Very few could accomplish this.

Then, all at once, chaos erupted. The absolute peak experts of the city, having received word, came rushing over—a large group of them surging forward, each seething with killing intent, most of them white-haired and ancient.

“The former Sect Master died in such misery—transforming himself into a death curse, falling into eternal purgatory—yet he still failed to kill this little dog. Infuriating!”

“Former Sect Master, I will avenge you!” A valiant-looking man was the first to fly out, roaring as he shot toward Ye Fan—divine sword in hand, cleaving downward.

“Boom!”

Ye Fan swept one hand through the air. A sheet of blazing brilliance flew out, colliding with the man’s divine sword with a ceaseless ringing—and his heart gave a lurch. This was a super-level Mighty One.

“Who are you?”

“I am the Sacred Son of the Yin-Yang Sect from five hundred years ago—now its Supreme Elder. Come and die!” The man roared, divine sword in hand, its cold light shining across dozens of miles.

These immortal legacies—every five hundred years they would choose a generation’s Sacred Son. When the former Sect Master finally passed away, the new leader would be selected from among the previous generations’ Sacred Sons who had since stepped down.

“Five hundred years ago’s Sacred Son—no wonder he is this powerful!” Ye Fan’s heart lurched.

“Kill him!”

At that moment, several more valiant men came flying over—every one of them betraying open killing intent, each striking preemptively to seize Ye Fan’s head, each one more formidable than the last.

The Sacred Son of a thousand years past, the Sacred Son of fifteen hundred years past—and even a Sacred Daughter from two thousand years ago, her power terrifyingly immense, enough to stand alongside the strongest Holy Lords of the present day.

The main issue was that Wang Yang had lived far too long—over three thousand years old—and those below him could only wait their turn, unable to ascend. Now that one of the Elders had become Sect Master, all of them sought the position of Vice Sect Master, hoping someday to inherit the main seat.

Former Sacred Sons—now powerful Elders—attacked Ye Fan together. And some extraordinarily terrifying ancient figures came flying over as well, striking without mercy.

Even if Ye Fan could borrow the earth’s dragon energy and possesed the power to contend with Holy Lords, he could not possibly fight this many people alone. That would simply be suicide.

“It is time!”

He made his decision. He had drawn all these powerful figures out—he intended to gather the power of a dragon vein and cut down a group of them in one stroke, severing one of the Yin-Yang Sect’s limbs.

“Boom!”

The source-heaven divine formation Ye Fan had carved across the entire landscape fully activated. Boundless divine light blazed into the sky. Tens of thousands of great dragons leaped upward—auspicious mist blanketed everything, drowning this place entirely.

Suddenly, a terrifying energy so dreadful it made the body want to split apart surged toward Ye Fan from the divine city. A black-and-red ancient mirror was rising from deep beneath the earth.

“The weapon of an ancient saint—the true Yin-Yang Ancient Mirror has appeared!”

Ye Fan felt his hair stand on end. He had seen the replica of this mirror—it had killed Mighty Ones as easily as crushing ants. To say nothing of the original!

“Damn it all!”

He had made preparations in advance—yet even so, he had not anticipated that the Yin-Yang Sect would deploy their most prized sect-anchoring treasure immediately from the very start. This alone showed how desperately they wanted him dead; they had resolved with iron determination not to give him even a sliver of a chance.

“Break this city!”

Boundless divine power blazed. Ten-thousand-year-old great dragons deep below raised their heads—burying the Yin-Yang Divine City, surging upward in full force, piercing the clouds. This place was completely set ablaze.

Viewed from afar, it was like an ocean of divine power—nothing else visible. The primordial dragon essence from beneath the earth surged up through the talisman inscriptions Ye Fan had carved, sweeping across heaven and earth.

An endless deluge—as though the Silver River had fallen from the ninth heaven. This was a great calamity!

“Boom!”

The Yin-Yang Divine City—its four gates crumbled. Then the ancient city walls, as towering as mountain ranges, collapsed like sheets of paper. Dust and smoke surged into the sky.

In this land of legendary character, a catastrophe of heaven-shaking proportions unfolded. Many ancient structures toppled—utterly uncontrollable.

“One person, alone, facing our Yin-Yang Sect—yet he has devastated our sacred ground…”

“This is a supreme humiliation! Exterminate his nine generations—even that would not be enough to wash it clean!”

Many of the Yin-Yang Sect’s ancient figures roared—nearly driven mad.

“Boom!”

An ancient mirror rose from the earth’s dragon veins, drifting and floating in the void—as though capable of stilling all of eternity and the heavens above. Many of the Yin-Yang Sect’s Elders could not help but kneel down before it.

“Ancient holy weapon—please protect the foundations of our sacred city!”

“Ancient divine spirit, awaken—still these mountains and rivers!”

Ye Fan stood in the distant sky, not daring to approach. That ancient mirror was too terrifying—it could almost swallow all of heaven and earth; every wisp of energy it emitted was enough to grind a Mighty One to nothing.

It appeared very ancient—black on one face, red on the other—bearing within it a force beyond description, as though it could shatter anything.

“So this is the legendary invincible ancient mirror. In that era, when their founding ancestor refined it, they were unrivaled across the five domains—none beyond the seas could match them. Its name resounded through all of history and legend. It once slew divine spirits from beyond the domain.”

This was the supreme treasure anchoring their enemy’s sect—known to all beneath the heavens; none had dared to challenge it. Though Ye Fan desperately wanted to seize it, right now he could only shake his head.

The ancient holy weapon swallowed the power of heaven and earth—like something alive, it rapidly awakened and stabilized the boiling underground dragon energy. It could still everything.

“This ancient weapon has stolen the creative powers of heaven above—truly there is no way to counter it…”

“Boom!”

Dust and smoke billowed everywhere. Though the ancient mirror had steadied the dragon energy, the terrifying forces still surged. The city crumbled—large sections toppling over.

“Ye, you little thief—may you die a wretched death!” Many powerful figures howled in rage. The losses this time were far too great; they were beside themselves with fury.

The Yin-Yang Divine City had collapsed across a vast stretch. The news spread at the very first moment—the entire Central State quaked. Almost no one dared to believe it.