“My son is Wang Teng.”

Long ago, Pang Bo had specifically mocked this line. In a flash, over a decade had passed—old friends were gone, yet now he heard the grim news of their fates.

At this moment, Ye Fan, seeing the Wang Family’s clan head again and hearing this same line once more, felt nothing but cold contempt in his heart.

“Brother Wang has raised a fine son indeed—having obtained both the inheritance of the ancient chaotic emperor and the supreme secret art of the Void, a rare occurrence through all the ages. Never before has anyone heard of a single person bearing two flawless scriptures at once—surely he will prove the Dao one day.”

Hearing such flattery, Wang Chengkun naturally beamed with pride. What he was proudest of was his eldest son—at such a young age, his cultivation already looked down upon the world, and he possessed an extraordinarily rare stroke of fortune besides.

Back when he had competed for the position of clan head, he had held no advantage whatsoever—it was entirely because his son had shown such extraordinary promise since childhood that the clan’s elder ancestors had ultimately chosen him.

“Speaking of which, the Sacred Body’s departure truly is a regret. Surely the worthy nephew of the Wang Family hasn’t been left with some lingering obsession over it? If this prevents him from proving the Dao, that would indeed be a pity.” one old demon said.

Wang Chengkun said, “A pity indeed—he fled this world. Otherwise, my son’s battle robes would surely be stained with his blood, his head separated from his body.”

“This old fellow really has thick skin—truly treating his son as a future great emperor. Defeated is defeated, nothing to gloss over.” Li Tian said with disdain.

Ye Fan said nothing. This was the Demon Race’s sacred and important ground; it was impossible to make a move here, or he would offend every demon faction in Nanling.

“Brother Wang, there have been quite a few rumors outside, saying your clan attacked some ancient village and was utterly annihilated—I wonder if it’s true?” Finally someone raised this question, something many people were eager to know.

No expression showed on Wang Chengkun’s face, but a certain viciousness flashed in his eyes as he said, “Some petty scoundrels harmed a few of my clansmen—nothing worth worrying over. One day my clan will level that mountain range, leaving not a blade of grass growing there.”

Wherever there are people, there is a world of rivalry; wherever there is such a world, there are grudges and vendettas—inevitable in a person’s life.

Among the many powerful figures present, there were naturally some who did not get along with the Wang Family. Someone remarked mockingly under their breath: “I’ve heard the Sacred Body has reappeared, and that the battle in the mountain range was entirely his doing—single-handedly wiping out the entire Wang clan there. I wonder if it’s true or not.”

Though not overly sarcastic, it still stung. Wang Chengkun’s expression froze at once as he said, “My clan indeed hopes that scoundrel surnamed Ye will return—so we may kill him and take his sacred blood to refine medicine. Unfortunately, this coward has fled. That battle in the deep mountains was merely someone impersonating him, stirring up chaos with malicious intent.”

Li Tian nudged Ye Fan and said, “This old fellow really isn’t a good sort—his hide is thicker than a wild boar’s tusk could chew through. However you look at it, it was his own son who was defeated—why does he keep slandering you?”

Within the ancient hall, many cultivators had gathered, mostly major figures from the Demon Race’s various factions, along with quite a few human sect leaders, all holding different opinions on the battle at the wild tribe’s settlement, saying all manner of things—but most did not believe Ye Fan could have returned.

Besides the various powerful figures, this place also held their descendants—all the most dazzling heirs of their lineages, for otherwise none could have set foot here at all.

These young talents and beautiful women had been brought here partly to broaden their horizons, and partly with an implicit sense of mutual rivalry.

“What am I seeing—a demoness enchanting enough to overturn the world, beautiful to the point of taking one’s breath away. I truly suspect she’s Yi Qingwu’s sister—how can anyone be this gorgeous?!” Li Tian nearly drooled, gulping down a large cup of fine wine.

The young men and women of this generation were also engaged in lively discussion, debating techniques and the Dao, comparing notes with one another, with some rivals secretly sizing each other up. Among them, one woman was especially eye-catching, like a divine pearl from the sea, dazzlingly brilliant.

It was Qi Huoshui!

Many years had passed, and the Southern Demon’s sister had grown even more radiant and captivating, her skin snow-white and delicate as though it might break at a touch, her black hair gleaming like satin, graceful and enchanting, standing not far away.

Qi Huoshui was very sensitive to such gazes, and turned to glare fiercely at Li Tian—but then froze at once, the jade cup in her hand nearly slipping to the ground.

She could hardly believe her own eyes—a person who had vanished for twelve years had reappeared. She immediately thought of the rumors—the Sacred Body in the wild ridges was not an impostor after all, but truly real!

“The Sacred Body has returned!” Qi Huoshui knew that today would surely bring great chaos. For Ye Fan to dare show himself here meant he would not let things rest peacefully—he had certainly come to kill.

Such a “world-ending disaster” of a beauty, momentarily stunned, possessed an entirely different kind of captivating charm, leaving many onlookers dazed.

It was plain to see that Wang Chengkun harbored a bone-deep hatred for Ye Fan. Whenever his name came up, he would either belittle or mock him, as though nothing could compare to even a toe of his own son.

“This old fellow—it’s a fact that his son lost to you all those years ago. Glossing it over and covering it up is one thing, but what’s there to show off about? Once we leave the Demon Sovereign Hall, let’s settle this once and for all.” Li Tian said.

From beginning to end, Ye Fan had not said a single word, standing steady as a mountain. Not long after, he rose and left the ancient hall, walking out.

For Li Tian had walked over, provoking the Wang clan quite ostentatiously, announcing himself as the sect leader of the Human Desire Dao—clearly, once they left the Demon Sovereign Hall, the Wang Family’s people would surely try to ambush and kill him.

Ye Fan walked step by step out of the deep mountains along the ancient bluestone road—no one was permitted to fly here—admiring the scenery along the way, leaving many young members of the Demon Race astonished.

He seemed fused with heaven and earth, one with the mountains and rivers, each footfall carrying a certain rhythm, a sense of the eternal, unchanging “Dao” flowing through him—an indescribable transcendence.

Ye Fan stood outside the mountains, gazing into the distance, motionless for a long while, so still that even a passing bird mistook him for a length of vine-wrapped wood and landed on his shoulder.

The red sun tilted westward. A bell tolled, and many cultivators gradually descended the mountain, paying him no particular attention when they saw him.

After some time, the Northern Plains Wang Family appeared—each of these people possessed deep cultivation, all formidable figures. Lined up side by side, there were a full eight of them, prepared to ambush and kill Li Tian here.

Everyone present stopped in their tracks, hearts trembling—the Northern Plains Wang Family was indeed terrifying. Counting the seven formidable figures who had died at the wild tribe’s settlement, a full fifteen great figures had come to Nanling.

How many formidable figures could a single clan send out? For them to bring so many at once truly defied common sense!

“Several among them are Primordial creatures in disguise.” Some ancient demons and human sect leaders who had cultivated Heavenly Insight, seeing through the hidden truth, said as much.

The Wang Family’s people had long since grown impatient, wanting to deal with Li Tian quickly, but never expected that this scoundrel, upon seeing a city-toppling beauty, had simply lost the will to leave, never even coming out, leaving them fuming with impatience.

Suddenly, Wang Chengkun and the others gave a start, sensing an utterly undisguised killing intent. Ahead, a man with disheveled hair was walking forward step by step, as though fused with the very pulse of heaven and earth, bearing down upon all of them.

“Who are you? What do you want?” one of the Wang Family’s elders shouted.

“To kill you all!” Ye Fan’s black hair, though not in disarray, obscured half his face, and a faint mist seemed to swirl around him. His voice at this moment was cold and merciless.

“Which great power dares move against my Wang Family?” Wang Chengkun’s expression turned icy as he scanned the crowd, sensing something was wrong.

“There is no great power. I alone will kill you all!” Ye Fan advanced step by step.

“One person, killing all of us…” The Wang Family’s people wanted to laugh but found they couldn’t, feeling a strange chill run through their bodies instead.

Everyone present was utterly stunned—who was this person, daring to stand alone outside the Demon Sovereign Hall, intending to kill eight formidable figures of the Northern Plains ancient clan? What manner of courage and strength would that require?

“What ignorant fool dares spout such nonsense here!” Wang Chengkun’s face darkened, and the elders beside him sneered coldly as well, striking at once, intent on maximum humiliation—a slap aimed straight at Ye Fan’s cheek.

Ye Fan let out a cold snort, extending his right arm, meeting the blow with a giant golden hand that shattered the slap instantly into fragments, the elder crying out in agony, a heart-rending scream.

But in the next instant, his voice cut off abruptly. The giant golden hand had been too fast, tracing a path through the air, utterly unavoidable, striking him across the face.

“Slap!”

His entire face shattered at once, flying apart like shards of porcelain, the giant golden hand’s slap landing with a deafening, resounding crack.

This elder’s face twisted beyond recognition, cracks spreading across his entire skull, and then with a boom, the crown of his head was blown clean off, flying away.

“Splat!”

With one final, strangely soft sound, his head crumbled like a broken gourd, and he died on the spot, an unnatural death.

Everyone present changed color—this was a formidable figure, yet without even managing to humiliate his target, he had been slapped to death by this young man before them, utterly shocking.

Far off, Qi Huoshui had been watching all along, and upon seeing this scene, her small mouth fell open into an “O” shape. Beside her, the Southern Demon appeared, mountains and rivers seeming to flow within his eyes, ancient moons sinking into their depths, his cultivation ever deeper and more profound, watching without blinking.

“Who are you?” Wang Chengkun was shocked—such cultivation was terrifying beyond words; an elder had simply been slapped to death like that.

“Who I am—you’ve thought of nothing else for years. Today I’ve returned, come here specifically to kill you.” Ye Fan said calmly.

“It’s you…” Wang Chengkun’s expression changed at once, his body trembling.

The other members of the Northern Plains Wang Family quickly moved to block the way, shielding Wang Chengkun behind them, each treating this as a mortal threat—if the clan head were killed, that would be a devastating blow to the entire clan’s honor!

“If I want to kill someone, hiding in the Lingxiao Sacred Palace itself wouldn’t help you.” Ye Fan advanced, black hair whipping wildly, a single man forcing seven formidable figures to retreat—this scene left everyone present utterly dumbfounded.

“Who exactly is he?” Many were asking this question; everyone in this region felt a chill run through them.

“Could it really be that he’s returned?” Some were shocked.

“How is this possible—he’s come back again, how did he manage it?!” Many stumbled backward in shock.

Ye Fan made his move, his entire body blooming with golden blood energy that engulfed this place, saying, “Today I’ll first behead Wang Teng’s father. Next time, I’ll go to the Northern Plains and kill him directly.”

“BOOM!”

Overwhelming divine might erupted, as though an ancient demon god of primordial times had been revived, reappearing in this mortal world. Ye Fan threw a single punch, holding nothing back, unleashing the Six Paths of Reincarnation Fist from the very start.

“Ahh…”

The two men standing at the very front, though fighting with all their strength, simply could not withstand this ocean-like force of a fist!

A pair of golden fists, unstoppable wherever they struck, instantly shattered both men, bloody pulp, broken bone, and hair flying in every direction.

“It’s the Sacred Body—it’s really him!”

“He’s really come back—I’ve seen him before, this is unbelievable!”

Everyone was shocked—the Sacred Body, vanished for twelve years, gone from this world, had actually reappeared in the mortal realm once more.

Ye Fan let out a great roar, like the primordial thunder of chaos descending from the nine heavens, and endless mountain ranges collapsed. Several formidable figures ahead all coughed up mouthfuls of blood, their bodies cracking all over, stumbling backward step by step.

“BOOM!”

Ye Fan reached out with a giant golden hand and grabbed Wang Chengkun in one motion, lifting him upside down!

This scene shocked everyone present; they simply could not believe it—this was a formidable figure, yet the Sacred Body’s true power was simply too overwhelming.

“Let him go.” One elder, his body sprouting scales, shouted loudly: “Do you know who we are, where we come from?”

“Just some Primordial creature, is it? Get lost!” Ye Fan sneered contemptuously, delivering a slap that instantly broke his bones and tore his tendons.