After a piece of Imperial Jade was embedded into the head-sized groove, a gentle, clear radiance flashed, splitting open the divine void, swallowing the old blind man and Duan De — they vanished on the spot.
Years ago, Ye Fan had retreated from Purple Mountain this very same way, crossing an underground dark river, climbing up to the surface.
Purple Mountain was extremely difficult to enter or exit — unless one brought extreme-Dao imperial weapons to blast through, there was no hope of opening it. This was a natural prison formed by heaven itself.
“Aaawooo…”
From all directions came ferocious howls, fierce ghosts everywhere, each one withered like dry firewood, skin clinging tight to bone. Some had dragon heads, some had phoenix wings, some had crocodile bodies, some appeared god-like — they bared their claws and fangs, mournful cries echoing everywhere, as if standing amid hell itself.
These beings were all strange and unique, each one representing the glory of a bygone race, chosen by the Undying Heavenly Sovereign to become his subordinates. One didn’t need to imagine how formidable they must have been in life.
Ye Fan retreated step by step. Even holding the Heaven-Devouring Demon Jar, he didn’t dare confront them head-on — alone, resisting so many ancient corpses would drain his body dry before long.
He arrived at the most open space within Purple Mountain, where the Wushi Bell hung suspended above, shrouding this place — a forbidden zone where all the fierce ghosts halted their advance.
Ye Fan felt no fear. If he let the Wushi Bell ring continuously for three months, likely every living being in Purple Mountain would be annihilated, all turned to dust by the bell’s shockwaves — even the Undying Heavenly Sovereign’s subordinates would struggle to survive.
“Roar…”
From all directions, one ancient divine general after another howled, surrounding this place. Each one was withered and pitch-black, hair disheveled like weeds — some crowned with divine halos, some bearing black moons upon their heads, each carrying an extraordinary presence.
One could tell how powerful they must have been in life — if they were to be revived, they would surely make mountains and rivers pale, eclipse the sun and moon, and be capable of trampling the world flat.
This was because they were unyielding divine generals, each having held an immense status in the past, obeying only the commands of the Undying Heavenly Sovereign — the ancestors of the ancient myriad races.
“Damn it!” Even Ye Fan couldn’t help but curse. The more closely he looked, the more terrifying it seemed — some of these beings’ flesh was almost divine material itself, with great Dao patterns flowing through it.
That was the manifestation of cultivation reaching its peak, ultimate sublimation, with Dao patterns etched into their very bones and flesh, their bodily shells having become vessels for the Dao itself.
Such existences — not to mention a whole group of them, even if just one were truly revived, it would be enough to trigger chaos across the world, capable of sweeping through an entire domain.
Ye Fan genuinely began to suspect that gods might have once existed in ancient times — the Undying Heavenly Sovereign’s subordinates were far too powerful; no wonder he held such a supreme, unshakeable status in the hearts of the ancient myriad races.
“Aaawooo…”
A group of fierce ghosts roared, black moons hanging in the void, dark rivers coiling around their bodies, blood-red suns cutting across the sky — these were all phenomena accompanying them, shaking the ancient stone hall until it hummed and trembled as if about to collapse, though Dao patterns emerged and stabilized it just in time.
Ye Fan clearly sensed something was wrong — these ancient beings were growing restless, as if they had received an order, ready to charge forward.
“Just who exactly is here? Come out and show yourself.”
The withered corpses gathered in droves, pitch-black claws swinging like wild grass in chaos, everywhere at once, their mournful cries growing even more terrifying, as if standing in the Hall of Yama itself.
A burst of cold, eerie laughter drifted over, a tide of resentment rising and swelling, finally spreading to blanket everything, sending chills through one’s entire body.
From behind the countless withered black corpses, a tall figure walked forward. The temperature within the great hall plummeted abruptly, as if falling into an ice cellar.
Sinister and bizarre, his entire body was covered in dreadful red fur, over a foot long, even across his face — only a pair of gloomy, malevolent eyes were visible.
His long red mane was extremely long, like the most vicious of devils, giving off a sense of boundless viciousness and hatred, as if he meant to slaughter all living beings.
Ye Fan’s scalp went numb, a sense of recognition rising within him. He gasped and said, “You are Zhang Lin!”
A red-furred whirlwind swept across the ground, mixed with a low howling sound. The entire interior of Purple Mountain grew ever more sinister and dark — this truly was the underworld itself, no different at all.
All the fierce ghosts howled together, advancing as one, ready to enter this forbidden zone and tear him apart alive.
…
Outside, in recent days, turmoil had been continuous, one could even describe it as a raging storm.
Divine Spirit Valley was thriving and full of life, yet the mountain range outside it had been barren, without a blade of grass — yet overnight it had turned lush and green, spreading across ten thousand miles, becoming a source of life itself.
They had officially emerged into the world!
A stern voice rang out — whoever brought Ye Fan’s head to offer would forever become a guest of Divine Spirit Valley. This was meant to make the human race kill their own Sacred Body.
At the same time, they revealed their iron-blooded side, declaring that if Ye Fan did not kneel and come to beg for death, within three months they would kill every member of the Ye clan, making the earth run rivers of blood and mountains of bones.
Powerful and domineering — once Divine Spirit Valley’s decree was issued, the world was shaken. People knew a great upheaval was coming, one that could not be stopped.
Divine Spirit Valley was merely one ancient race among many — there were even more terrifying races, each with an ancestral king in command. A single race was already this formidable; daring to defy them meant having an entire clan exterminated.
Storms raged across the earth, an iron-blooded tempest about to erupt. Everyone felt endangered — some great clans even began preparing to submit to the ancient races.
In this unprecedented, terrifying age, even the various Sacred Grounds and the Ancient Wasteland Clans fell silent. Dark chaos was approaching, and what they now considered wasn’t prosperity, but how to survive.
In these past few days, the Southern Ridge Barbarian Tribe had come under immense pressure, as ancient beings from bygone eras had repeatedly come to probe their strength.
Word spread that Divine Spirit Valley wanted to uproot the Barbarian Tribe, but had hesitated to act, because they had learned the tribe harbored a War God within its ranks.
Many great sects were terrified — the Barbarian Tribe had displayed such formidable combat strength that even Divine Spirit Valley wanting to move against them showed just how domineering and powerful they truly were.
“Southern Ridge Barbarian Tribe, our Divine Spirit Valley demands an explanation!” Finally, word spread from the Northern Domain — they had issued their challenge.
The ancient royal clans were questioning them, their arrogance overwhelming — this was a signal of war and extermination, leaving cultivators across the world trembling with fear, many turning pale.
“How dare you trample the Northern Plains Wang clan?”
“Why have you been sheltering the human race’s Sacred Body within Southern Ridge?”
“Is this you provoking the dignity of our race?”
Divine Spirit Valley posed these three questions, arrogant and condescending, looking down from on high — this was entirely an unequal dialogue, delivered in the manner of one ruling over all under heaven.
Once these words spread, the entire world was shaken — this was a sign that war was coming; even having a Barbarian War God in Southern Ridge couldn’t intimidate the ancient race.
For a time, Southern Ridge was in turmoil, undercurrents surging, war clouds gathering over the Northern Domain, cultivators everywhere alarmed, the world uneasy, all five domains disturbed.
After many years, great chaos was stirring again — the Southern Ridge Barbarian Tribe was about to face off against Divine Spirit Valley. In the age following the Ancient Wasteland Era, the most ferocious dark chaos yet was about to arrive, the first battle about to begin!
The Barbarian Tribe had plenty of fighting spirit — facing this challenge, they didn’t bother refuting point by point, simply responding: to hell with you, if you want war, then let’s fight, we’re ready!
The Barbarian Tribe’s toughness and fighting spirit exceeded many people’s expectations, stirring the blood of quite a few — facing such a threat with this attitude truly lived up to the reputation of their ancestors.
Their words rang out powerfully, resounding like clashing metal. In people’s eyes, this was pure fighting spirit, true heroism.
Even if they were to suffer a crushing defeat in the first battle of the dark chaos, there would be no shame in it — rather, it would earn them even greater respect.
Upon hearing this, Divine Spirit Valley first fell silent, then spoke again, demanding that the Barbarian Tribe’s leader personally come to the Northern Domain to give an explanation.
Everyone could clearly sense that Divine Spirit Valley had somewhat softened, showing some wariness toward the Barbarian Tribe — yet they still maintained their supremely arrogant posture, demanding the Barbarian leader personally come explain himself, still adopting a superior stance.
“There’s nothing to explain. Our Barbarian Tribe conducts itself openly and honorably — we will not bow our heads to anyone, will not grovel before others. How could the leader of a tribe be commanded by another race’s mere words!”
“Stubborn and unyielding — just an ancient sage about to transform into the Dao, nothing to worry about. One battle will flatten them!” This was the voice from within Divine Spirit Valley — though it hadn’t yet spread publicly, the rumor was already leaking out.
Divine Spirit Valley was about to launch an expedition against Southern Ridge, to break the formidable Barbarian Tribe — this was a trend everyone could see coming.
Not long after, Divine Spirit Valley issued an extremely forceful, iron-blooded statement, demanding that the Southern Ridge Barbarian King personally come to bear the punishment on bended knee, and bring the human race’s Sacred Body bound alongside him, or else face the consequences.
“Fight if you want to fight, do you think we’re afraid of you?!” This was the Barbarian Tribe’s blunt response.
Within the tribe, men and women, young and old, all mobilized, each shouldering wolf-fang clubs, preparing for a life-or-death battle, fearless, united from top to bottom.
On this day, the roar of the ancient king of the Northern Domain shook the myriad mountains and valleys, the entire land trembling, terrifying everyone.
“Flatten the Southern Ridge Barbarian Tribe, spare not even the chickens and dogs, exterminate them all completely!”
This was an extremely domineering display of power, shaking the boundless rivers and mountains of the Northern Domain, spreading swiftly to all five domains — everyone heard the news that great war was coming.
“Unless the ancient Great Emperor is revived, no one can save you!”
Arrogant and world-conquering, this was Divine Spirit Valley — one of the powerful royal clans among the ancient myriad races — now launching a war.
Demonic clouds billowed, war intent soaring to the heavens. Divine Spirit Valley’s ancient warships rose into the air one after another, about to enter a massive domain gate, heading toward Southern Ridge.
An earth-shaking, monumental battle was about to erupt!
Though the Barbarian Tribe was powerful, they were no match for Divine Spirit Valley. Because once a life-or-death confrontation began, it might drag in other ancient royal clans as well — the outcome, in that case, was already foreseeable. People seemed to already envision Southern Ridge running with rivers of blood and mountains of bones.
“Let the Barbarian Tribe become history — exterminate them once and for all!” This was Divine Spirit Valley’s lofty, cold-hearted proclamation, announced to the entire world — once the Barbarian Tribe was swept away, they would move on to slaughter the Ye clan. This was to be a ruthless, iron-blooded campaign.
However, just at this moment, a very discordant voice rang out from the Northern Domain.
“You bunch of bastards at Divine Spirit Valley, I am the human race’s Sacred Body, come personally to the Northern Domain to kill you all!”
“I, Ye Fan, have arrived. I will surely destroy your entire Divine Spirit Valley clan. Right now, send out one small fry at a time and I’ll kill them one by one — send out a pair and I’ll kill two at once.”
Everyone was in an uproar, because some had witnessed it — that was undoubtedly the true body of the human race’s Sacred Body, that golden blood energy, that overwhelming aura could not be mistaken.
Divine Spirit Valley was enraged. Many powerful experts rushed out at once, a single roar shaking mountains and rivers, reverberating across the entire Northern Domain.
“Human Sacred Body, where is this human Great Emperor you speak of? If the ancient Great Emperor does not appear, no one can save you!”
“Dong…”
At that very moment, a bell toll rang out across the Northern Domain, suppressing every other sound, spreading out for who knows how many tens of thousands of miles, instantly bringing peace to heaven and earth.
All the restlessness, all the killing intent vanished at once. People trembled with fear, all frozen in place.
Within Divine Spirit Valley, the warships that were about to set sail all came to a halt, everyone aboard turning rigid with fright, trembling uncontrollably, hearts filled with boundless terror.