The silver disc of the moon hung high, its pure light spilling down. Ancient pines stood tall upon the mountainside, a clear spring flowing over the stones at their roots—a serene and tranquil scene.

Several figures sat cross-legged beneath the night moon, not a single stray sound among them, transcendent and peaceful, carrying an air of having risen above the mortal world, calm and natural.

Not long before, Ye Fan’s fighting blood had still been boiling as he furiously struck down eight formidable figures of this age, like a war god looking down upon the mortal realm, his oppressive presence enough to leave people breathless. Yet now he sat like a banished immortal, utterly still, transcending the dust of this world, as though ready to ride the wind away.

In motion, a demon-slaying god of carnage; in stillness, a snow orchid in a secluded valley—one dynamic, one still, two entirely different qualities, utterly contradictory temperaments.

The zither’s notes rang out clear and bright, ethereal and lively, like divine talismans leaping into being, flowing from beneath Qi Huoshui’s slender fingers, painting a picture of serene tranquility.

Moonlight poured down, making her fair skin shimmer with a crystalline glow, her fingers dancing like spirits, as though she herself had been carved from warm jade.

None of them spoke, unwilling to disturb this state of near-Dao-like peace, simply enjoying it in silence.

The water boiled once more. The Southern Demon rose, displaying his masterful command of the tea ceremony, each of his movements carrying a strange power that settled the mind, calmed the spirit, soothed the heart, purifying one’s very thoughts, returning one to a state of tranquil, natural simplicity.

This was true tea ceremony, capable of purifying a person’s soul, and it gradually dissolved the anxiety that had built up in Ye Fan over these past days from the fates of his old friends, slowly settling his heart.

After a long while, the Southern Demon spoke: “Zi Tiandu is in Nanling.”

Zi Tiandu—a young member of the ancient race who had traveled alongside Wang Teng twelve years ago, his strength terrifying enough to chill the blood, the young master of the Divine Spirit Valley.

“How strong is he?” Li Tian roused himself from the tranquility, sipping his tea while, at the same time, somewhat distractedly stealing glances at Qi Huoshui.

“Stronger than Wang Teng was twelve years ago, by a fair margin.” the Southern Demon said, his thick black hair falling naturally loose, mountains and rivers seeming to appear within his eyes, ancient moons sinking into their depths, unfathomably deep.

“So you’re telling us he’s very powerful. And that Wang Teng today is nothing like he was back then—even more terrifying, far surpassing his former self.” Yan Yixi said.

The green pines could not hide the moonlight; the clear spring flowed over the stones. Here, silence fell once more, no one speaking, savoring the fragrant tea quietly.

The fragrance lingered in the air, elevating one’s very spirit.

This was the most precious tea in the world, sourced from the ancient tea tree of Dao-enlightenment, its leaves flying out from the Immortal-Slaying Mountain—those that fell into the outside world were as rare as phoenix feathers in the morning.

The Southern Demon used it to entertain his guests, saying nothing further, but the others could all sense that he was quietly savoring his own Dao—this place grew ever more tranquil.

“How strong is Yuangu?” Ye Fan asked. He had already made up his mind to kill this man, to settle his own heart, and to avenge his old friends.

“I was ten miles from him, and glimpsed a side profile when I turned my head—a peerless formidable figure, very powerful.” The Southern Demon spoke little, but his words carried great weight.

He made no exaggerated claims, offered no detailed description, speaking plainly and truthfully, yet it left everyone feeling an immense pressure.

The Southern Demon had once ventured alone into the Eastern Wastes, hoping to catch sight of the terrifying young formidable figures of the Primordial Race one by one, but in the end had only crossed paths briefly with Yuangu—never once glimpsing Huangxu Dao, the Heavenly Emperor’s Son, Shencan Daoren, Huo Qizi, and the others.

“This battle today will shake all five regions. Are you trying to save your old friends from danger, believing they might still be alive?” The Southern Demon gazed at him calmly.

Ye Fan set down his teacup, gazing into the distance, and said, “I hope someone is still alive. Let every enemy come to kill me—I’ll take them all on, one by one.”

“Aren’t you afraid the enemies will be endless, all rushing at you at once? Can you withstand that?” Qi Huoshui’s skin was as smooth as jade and bone, but when she smiled, there was a captivating, seductive charm to it as well.

“If they come, I’ll kill them all.” Ye Fan said.

In the distance, several old demons’ expressions could not help but freeze for a moment, and then they nodded.

“Come then—I, Li Tian the divine son, having descended upon this place, will surely wage a battle that shakes the world, spreading the sacred might of my Human Desire tradition.” Li Tian declared passionately.

Qi Huoshui pursed her lips, feeling no particular fondness for him.

“Don’t underestimate me, beauty—I am the sect leader of the Human Desire Dao, and will soon establish my tradition far and wide across the Big Dipper Star Region. In the future, I will surely rule this land, presiding over the world.”

“Aren’t you just some flower thief?” Qi Huoshui said fiercely, wearing a look of disdain. “You must have killed no fewer than eight hundred, if not a thousand.”

“Don’t lump me together with those disreputable fellows. I am a young sect leader with ideals, morals, substance, iron principles, and ambition—a young man of five virtues.”

In the quiet night, the fragrance of flowers drifted, and the pine forest grew still once more. After a long while, Ye Fan asked the Southern Demon for his perspective on the situation in the Eastern Wastes, and the information he received largely matched what he had heard before.

“The one time I entered the Eastern Wastes, I killed several formidable figures of the Primordial Race, all of the same clan as Yuangu, but pursuing them further, I never discovered any trace of your old friends.” the Southern Demon said.

Ye Fan expressed his gratitude. He and the Southern Demon had no especially deep friendship, so for him to go this far was rare indeed—who in the world today would willingly provoke the various Primordial races? Everyone wanted to preserve themselves in the coming chaotic age, avoiding trouble as best they could.

Every one of the Primordial races had ancient kings still slumbering. Once awakened, who among the human race could stand against them? To truly become their enemy would surely mean mountains of corpses and seas of blood, no one able to withstand their edge, every sacred ground left gasping for breath.

Moonlight, like a thin mist, spilled across the pine forest, like great swaths of pure white feathers, the spring water gurgling softly—this place was boundlessly serene, like something out of a poem.

The night had grown deep. Ye Fan rose to his feet and said, “Tell me the exact location of Zi Tiandu. Carve me a teleportation array.”

“Very well!” The Southern Demon rose, having an old demon activate an ancient array platform on another mountain peak.

“You intend to go alone to kill the young master of the Divine Spirit Valley? That is a den of dragons and tigers—his strength goes without saying, and he has a whole host of terrifying clansmen besides. It’s one of their strongholds in Nanling.” Qi Huoshui’s beautiful eyes blinked.

Ye Fan smiled and said, “By tonight’s end, that stronghold will no longer exist.”

“Arrogant fool.” Qi Huoshui glanced at him.

“Drunk, numb, tingling all over—smile once more and you’ll ascend to the heavens.” Li Tian called out.

“Go to hell!” Qi Huoshui shot him a venomous glare.

“I’ve offended you plenty in the past, locking you up for a whole month—don’t take it to heart.” Ye Fan apologized.

“You can go to hell too!” Qi Huoshui flared up, kicking Ye Fan straight onto the array platform, leaving the others utterly stunned—this girl was truly fierce, even the Sacred Body wasn’t spared a kick. And to think, this was the ruthless figure who had just killed eight formidable figures, including the head of the Northern Plains ancient formidable clan.

The ancient array platform wove together strand after strand of intricate patterns, resonating with the stars above. Fully activated now, demonic light billowed forth, and the three of them vanished from where they stood.

Vermilion Bird City was one of the ten great ancient cities of Nanling, possessing a long history predating even the age of written characters.

This was a primordial giant city; legend held that when its foundations were first laid, a divine bird, the Vermilion Bird, had cried out, and so the city took its name.

On this deep night, under a bright moon and scattered stars, the three of them crossed the void, traveling several hundred thousand miles in an instant, entering this city.

“That Southern Demon seems extraordinarily powerful, unfathomably deep.” Yan Yixi said.

“That man is remarkably composed, with an extraordinary bearing—he’s bound for greatness one day.” Even Li Tian, rogue that he was, said as much.

Ye Fan nodded and said, “If he weren’t strong, why would the Extraordinary Scholar’s Estate speak with him privately? They may well be offering him a spot to enter the ancient star realm.”

This was a very spacious ancient estate, its gardens stretching in clusters, its halls numerous, left behind by a primordial heavenly demon who had once looked down upon all of Nanling, now nearly abandoned.

Ye Fan pushed open the great gate and strode inside. He summoned no battle treasure, merely carrying a mundane iron sword in his right hand, striding forward.

“Who dares trespass upon my clan’s sacred ground?” A Primordial creature, alert at once, sprang out from the gatehouse, red-haired with fangs bared, its body covered in crocodile scales.

“Splat!”

Ye Fan said nothing. A single sword strike, its cold light illuminating all directions, and a blood-soaked head immediately flew off at an angle, its Origin Spirit annihilated by the sword’s energy, the headless corpse spurting blood several yards into the air, collapsing to the ground with a thud only as the three of them walked past.

“What audacity—mere humans, and only a few at that, daring to trespass upon my Divine Spirit Valley’s sacred ground!” Several creatures, like flying silver night yakshas, leapt out, spitting divine techniques, unleashing blazing electric radiance, attacking.

Ye Fan’s golden sacred domain unfurled, and he strode forward, entering as though no one else were present, untouched by anything, killing his way through as casually as a leisurely stroll.

“Splat!” “Splat!”…

Head after head flew into the air, blood blossoming like brilliant fireworks—a single instant of shock, followed by eternal silence.

A full nineteen heads were sent flying by Ye Fan alone. Not one of the Primordial creatures had been weak, but suppressed under his golden sacred domain, they had no chance to even fight back, all slaughtered.

“Too fast, too sharp—why won’t you let me get a hand in?” Li Tian called out.

Ye Fan said, “Go up into the sky, hold the Divine Maiden Furnace, but don’t expose it. If you see anyone trying to flee, blast them back to me. Not one gets away tonight.”

“Ahh…”

This ancient estate rang out with scream after scream, waking many cultivators across Vermilion Bird City, who watched from the distant sky.

“It’s him, the Sacred Body again, avenging the wild man.”

“Twelve years, and he returns like this—so overwhelming, so terrifying.”

People sucked in their breath—how many in this world today dared provoke a Primordial creature? Yet Ye Fan, upon returning, had gone alone straight into the Divine Spirit Valley’s stronghold in Nanling to kill—this was a total annihilation!

“Ahh…”

Vermilion Bird City remained unsettled through the night, a terrifying killing intent soaring skyward, shrill screams echoing without end, leaving everyone feeling that same despair and cold.

“Zi Tiandu, get out here and receive your death!”

Ye Fan, carrying his blood-dripping iron sword, killed his way deep into the estate, over sixty corpses of ancient creatures lying scattered, fresh blood pooling beneath his feet.

“My clan brother has returned to the Eastern Wastes…” A terrifying creature emerged, differing little in appearance from a human, purple hair and purple eyes, skin snow-white, fury blazing in his eyes, his voice icy and grim: “So you are that Sacred Body. You really have come back.”

“What a pity—then I’ll make him grieve for a while as well.” Ye Fan said, and struck.

Far off in the sky, everyone heard a burst of furious roaring, an intense battle erupting, all manner of radiant light bursting forth, countless Primordial secret techniques unleashed, that place boiling with violence.

But half a quarter-hour later, an unwilling, furious roar rang out, and a blood-soaked head shot up into the sky, purple-haired and purple-eyed—and then it shattered.

After that, a series of screams rose one after another, and some clearly saw a figure wreathed in a golden divine halo, moving swiftly through the estate, killing without pause.

With each fall of the sword, a head dropped, or a body was sliced diagonally in two—a truly terrifying sight, fresh blood staining the bluestone paths red.

That person seemed like a demon king from hell itself, hair disheveled, killing without limit, never once missing with his sword, each strike bringing forth great blossoms of blood and the end of a life.

“Too terrifying—is this the Sacred Body’s holy power? A single divine halo suppressing every Primordial creature that attacked!”

“Returning after twelve years, come back into this world once more—the Sacred Body is simply too powerful, too terrifying!”

This was the thought echoing in everyone’s heart, their scalps tingling, their bodies turning cold through and through.

When everything finally settled, over a hundred corpses lay scattered at Ye Fan’s feet, his entire body soaked in blood, his iron sword blazing red, which he then cast down onto the ground—the clang of it striking sent a shiver through everyone’s hearts.

“Li Xiaoman, Hua Yunfei, Wang Teng, the Yin-Yang Sect, the Mortal Realm, Hell, Zi Tiandu, Yuangu… every enemy, I sit here in Nanling, waiting for you all!”

Heaven and earth fell silent. No one knew how much time had passed before someone finally summoned the courage to enter this estate, and everywhere they looked was bloodstains, everywhere were corpses, each one killed in a single blow.

In so short a time, over a hundred formidable figures of the ancient race lay dead—such a record left people trembling.

Twelve years gone, and the Sacred Body had returned—by day, cutting down the head of the Northern Plains Wang Family along with eight other formidable figures; by night, slaughtering a hundred heroes of the ancient Divine Spirit Valley clan—truly astonishing, shocking to hear.

People knew that by dawn, this news would surely spread across all five great regions, sparking an uproar that would shake the entire world!