A cold and pale moon, a tranquil night — mountains and rivers undulated across the land, shrouded in a desolate stillness.
Beneath this moonlit night, a group of death gods walked upon the earth. Wide black robes wrapped them tightly, concealing even their heads. They moved without sound, without breath, every one of them saturated with the aura of death.
Nethermist rose. The icy chill grew denser, swallowing them whole. From a distance, they appeared as a vast, oppressive darkness pressing down upon the land.
Yang Yi had chased after them all this way, tears streaming down her face. She had only just regained consciousness. Her shoes had long been lost, and caring nothing for appearances, she ran barefoot — her feet, white and pure as jade, striking the cold hard ground — and plunged into the midst of the death gods.
She wanted to seize Zhang Lin, to demand an explanation, to see clearly what had become of him. But that figure was far too elusive, impossible to approach.
The Fifth-Generation Source Heaven Master of today possessed depths of power that defied imagination. Ten thousand years of time had passed through him — his body had become vast as an abyss, his dark energy surging like a flooding sea. He was half-demon, half-human, and had long since become an existence beyond all reckoning.
“Zhang Lin — no matter what has happened, it doesn’t matter. Please, stop.” Yang Yi wept.
Ye Fan could least bear scenes such as this. He exhaled softly and said, “Ancestral Master, if you walk away from this without looking back, it may well be the greatest regret of your entire life.”
Dark mist obscured the star realm. Heaven and earth fell into pitch blackness. Zhang Lin slowed his steps and gradually came to a halt, his entire form still shrouded within his wide black robes.
Yang Yi stepped forward, tears brimming in her eyes, and quietly gazed upon him.
Zhang Lin slowly peeled back the black hood and lifted the dark cape, revealing his true form. His entire body was covered in blood-red fur, more than half a foot in length — dense across even his face, obscuring his features entirely.
Yang Yi slowly extended one jade-like hand and reached toward that face. With tears glistening in her eyes, she said, “No matter what you have become, you are still the Zhang Lin of before. No matter where you go, I will follow you always.”
“Time grows short. When dawn comes, I will be gone.” Zhang Lin’s voice was hoarse. He made to continue on his way.
“Then I go where you go,” said Yang Yi.
“No.” Zhang Lin shook his head.
“Why? You have only one night left to live — why will you still not let me stay by your side?” Yang Yi’s tears fell freely as she stared at him in a daze.
Ye Fan also did not understand, and turned to look.
“Unless you can go on living — otherwise, leave now.” Zhang Lin’s hoarse voice was absolute.
Yang Yi broke into sobs — wrenching, heart-tearing cries.
Zhang Lin raised his hand, wanting to wipe the tears from her face, but it froze midair. What hung there in the space between them was a claw — thick with red fur, its nails black and razor-sharp, savage and grim.
Yang Yi seized his hand and pressed it against her own face. Overcome with grief, she wept bitterly.
“It is I who have wronged you far too deeply…” A long while later, Zhang Lin finally spoke those words, trembling. He tilted his head toward the sky where he stood, refusing to let his own tears fall.
The great wind arose. Nethermist billowed and spread.
They set off again. Among the black-robed death gods, a white-clad beauty now walked alongside them. Zhang Lin, too, had shed his black robes, transforming into a red-furred creature — and the two of them walked forward, side by side.
Mist coiled upward into the heavens, eerie and dreadful, blotting out the stars and shrouding the moon. They were like wraiths risen from the depths of hell, scythes of death in hand, come to harvest the lives of the mortal world.
Only one night remained. When the first light of dawn broke, they would turn to ash — gone forever, never to exist again.
There was no time to linger. They moved like wind and lightning. And throughout this passage, Zhang Lin struck again and again, seizing dragon veins one after another and imprisoning them in his grasp.
It was a terrifying sight — great dragons, stretching hundreds to thousands of zhang in length, each transforming into a beam of divine radiance, snatched up with ease by the Source Heaven Master.
To raise a hand and bind a dragon vein, to grasp a divine source ore at will — what manner of terrifying sight was this?!
Along that road, from all four directions and eight quarters, no one could say how many great dragons were pulled forth — gathered like insects, effortlessly held within his palm.
Ye Fan was shaken with awe. The Fifth-Generation Source Heaven Ancestral Master of today, undying across ten thousand years — he had truly become an existence beyond all imagination, utterly without equal.
He could not help but think of the Third-Generation Source Heaven Master — who, in his later years, had met with ill fortune, transformed into a monster, and perished within the Dragon Cave of the Qin Mountains. In the end, it had taken the strike of the Azure Emperor’s killing intent to end it.
“You see now — our lineage can also attain the Dao. The path is simply more remote.” Clearly, the Fifth-Generation Source Heaven Ancestral Master was offering guidance.
In the end, he pressed a brand forward and sent it flowing as a clear radiance into Ye Fan’s Immortal Platform. “This is what I came to understand in my later years, and the techniques I have contemplated in recent times — I pass them all to you now. I hope your later years hold no such ill fortune.”
In Zishan, Ye Fan had listened to the bell-waves of Wushi and gazed upon the Dao-light of the Heaven-Devouring Demon Jar, awakening to the great Dao of heaven and earth. Zhang Lin had not passed those things on to him then — but now, at last, he imparted them all together.
Yang Yi walked side by side with the Source Heaven Master, watching as he plucked stars and seized the moon, bound the dragon energy of the great earth, and reshaped the flow of mountains and rivers — as though they had returned to those distant days when they roamed the Northern Domain together, none able to stand against them.
They were about to launch an assault on the Divine Spirit Valley — a gathering place of an Ancient Primordial Royal Clan. Surely, unimaginable enemies awaited. Zhang Lin was making preparations.
The Divine Spirit Valley lay nestled within a thousand mountains and ten thousand ravines. Formerly, not a blade of grass had grown there — but today, lush verdure flourished for ten thousand li in every direction.
An Ancestral King, vast as a small mountain, sat immovable and enthroned upon an immortal sacrificial altar. His eyes were filled with the weight of countless ages — within them swirled the evolution of the cosmos and the sight of heaven and earth first coming into being. His presence was overwhelmingly daunting.
In the distance, ancient halls rose one after another. Ancient living beings moved throughout in great number — prosperous and without bound, each and every one of them impossibly powerful.
They could not compare to the few great clans that had produced Ancient Primordial Emperors — and yet they were a Royal Clan in every rightful sense, possessed of a might that looked down upon all under heaven.
“Ancestral King — the investigation is complete. The War God of the Southern Ridge Barbarian Tribe is indeed their Seventeenth-Generation Ancestral Patriarch. His divine power is truly immense and formidable beyond measure. However, he has nearly fully merged with the Dao — the moment he steps out of the divine source, he will immediately become a principle of the great Dao and return to the natural order of heaven and earth.”
A fierce and grotesque ancient living being — bearing four heads and eight arms — knelt prostrate upon the ground, its expression one of utmost reverence and deference.
“Slaying such a being from the Southern Ridge Barbarian Tribe would require little effort. A single decisive battle to annihilate them entirely, soaking the southern lands in blood — it would be easily done.” Another ancient living being spoke. This one held a position of considerable rank, seated cross-legged below the altar.
“As for Zishan — it is largely as the Heavenly Emperor’s son described. No human Sovereign has re-emerged there. Not a trace of imperial energy has overflowed. For the past half-month, it has remained entirely still.” Yet another ancient living being spoke.
“Then what are we waiting for? Kill — wash the Southern Ridge in blood, slaughter the Barbarian Tribe to the last, capture the Holy Body of the Human Clan, and let him kneel outside the valley to await his death.” Someone declared coldly.
“Precisely — make that Human Clan Holy Body kneel to his death outside the valley. Simply cutting off his head would be letting him off too easily.” Further back, some ancient living beings who lacked the standing to sit cross-legged all chimed in with cold agreement.
Upon the altar, the Ancestral King swept his gaze across the assembly — as though ten million years had passed through that single glance — causing every soul present to tremble into silence, none daring to speak another word.
“Kill — naturally we shall kill. The earth must flow with rivers of blood. No scheme or stratagem will avail them. But we must still wait — and act only when we are absolutely certain nothing can go wrong.”
It was the Ancestral King’s own descendants who spoke — for surely only they would dare give voice at such a moment.
“Do as you see fit. If you are going to kill, kill them clean.” The Ancestral King’s voice was cold and merciless. Behind him, dozens of pairs of wings unfurled, and a sky-flooding demonic energy surged upward, engulfing the altar. He said nothing more.
In that tranquil, cold moonlit night, a host of death gods descended. Nethermist stirred and drifted — silent, without sound. And yet a murderous energy pervaded all.
Still at an immeasurable distance from the Divine Spirit Valley, they halted their steps. Ye Fan and Zhang Lin stepped forward and told the others to wait — not to act rashly.
One towering demonic peak after another rose like pillars holding up the heavens, soaring and majestic. At the heart of the central mountain range, a brilliant radiance of divine light shot into the sky — especially vivid against the night — and that was the Divine Spirit Valley.
“Now this is truly a fine place,” Ye Fan remarked with admiration. Great dragons encircled the area, one divine vein after another threading through the earth. Beneath the ground, divine source ores must surely be stored in abundance.
“Ten thousand years ago, I once set foot here. I sensed that an Ancient King lay sleeping beneath the earth and chose not to disturb it,” said Zhang Lin.
The two of them stepped forward together and channeled the dragon veins and source energy they had gathered along the way into the surrounding mountain range, pouring them into specific peaks.
The arts of the Source Heaven Master were wondrous to the point of the divine — strange to the extreme, mysterious beyond all measure. With a lift of his hand, tens of thousands of small dragons flew from his palm, growing boundlessly larger as they neared the surface of the earth.
Ye Fan understood — the Divine Spirit Valley was finished. Setting aside all else, these terrifying source arts alone would be enough to incinerate everything to ash.
The boundless divine source beneath the earth, combined with the dragon veins he had gathered, arranged according to the supreme forbidden formation of the Source Heaven Lineage — it would be capable of annihilating heaven and earth, more than enough to smelt even an ancient sage of the primordial age.
“Today, the Divine Spirit Valley shall be stricken from the record. Our Source Heaven Lineage will suppress the Northern Domain and restore peace to the Human Clan!” Zhang Lin’s voice rang out, firm and sonorous.
After this battle, the shock that would reverberate through the Ancient Primordial Clans was already foreseeable. Once the Divine Spirit Valley was erased, the Ten-Thousand Dragon Nest, the Divine Silkworm Ridge, the Blood Phoenix Mountain, and other such places would surely be shaken to their core.
A great storm that would sweep across all under heaven was about to begin.
What manner of man was the Source Heaven Master? His extraordinary arts astounded the world — peerless in his age!
And the Zhang Lin of today was even more — half-human, half-demon across ten thousand years, beyond all imagination. Setting aside his source arts entirely, his sheer power alone had seized the very mysteries of heaven and earth.
Now, with him and Ye Fan acting together, they moved without a sound — carving the dense, intricate Supreme Forbidden Formation of the Source Heaven Lineage into the earth. Aside from the Divine Spirit Valley’s Ancestral King, who at last sensed something in the final moments, not a single other ancient living being was aware of what was happening.
“Hmph!”
A cold snort rang out. From within the Divine Spirit Valley, two Ancestral Kings stirred and awakened in succession, their eyes cold and merciless — transforming into four terrifying beams of light that pierced straight through.
“Clang!”
The Source Heaven Master flicked his fingers, dissolving all four beams of light into nothingness.
“We can move now,” said Ye Fan in a low voice.
“Boom!”
The mountain range blazed with blinding brilliance. Boundless divine radiance erupted skyward, piercing through the clouds — like an eternal divine furnace, blazing and burning with fierce intensity.
Divine light submerged the entire area, turning it into a terrifying killing ground. The full array of the Supreme Forbidden Ancient Formation of the Source Heaven Lineage activated. Every manner of pattern and line wove and spread in dense profusion, sealing off all four directions and eight quarters.
“Kill!”
Ye Fan let out a great battle cry. From within the sacred shell, a war spear flew out into his grasp. Alongside it, a broken ancient bell — weathered and heavy — floated and hovered above his head.
With one sweep of the war spear, death gods appeared in every direction, surrounding the Divine Spirit Valley in total encirclement.
“Awooo…” The Source Heaven Master was like a man who had fallen into demonic madness. Every strand of red fur across his body stood on end — terrifying and savage — as he charged into the Divine Spirit Valley to kill.
The divine valley blazed as bright as day. Ye Fan and Zhang Lin had laid down the ancient formation of the Source Heaven Lineage — this was meant to trap them all within a single net and burn every last one of them alive to ash.
And yet the Ancestral Kings could not so simply be killed — they were far too powerful. They might very well break through.
A terrifying roar shook the vault of heaven nearly to collapse. One of the Ancestral Kings burst forth and came face to face with Zhang Lin.
From the Source Heaven Master’s palm, hundreds and thousands of earthly dragon veins flew outward — at first like thin threads of rosy light, but when they bloomed and unfurled, they crushed heaven and earth beneath their weight.
“Boom!”
These were the forbidden Source Heaven Dao markings that had been carved and etched — and in this moment, as they flew outward and exploded, their power was immeasurably stronger than what Ouyang Ye had once carved, by countless times over.
“Ahhh…”
The Ancestral King let out a great cry. The massive claw it thrust forward had transformed into a small world cradled within its palm — within that world, creation unfolded, mountains and rivers flowed — but in the end, it still detonated.
At the same moment, Zhang Lin let out a great roar. He transformed into a Dao-demon and charged straight through — with a heavy thud, he tore away one of the Ancestral King’s arms.
“Who are you people?!” To suffer such a loss in the very first exchange — the Ancestral King could scarcely believe it.
“Zhang Lin, disciple beneath Wushi!” The Source Heaven Master struck again.
“Ye Fan, Holy Body of the Human Clan!” Ye Fan too roared out, taking command within the sacred shell. Utterly fearless, he drove a fist forward — surging golden blood energy crested like a flooding tide.
Within the Divine Spirit Valley, battle cries shook the heavens. Death had come.
In the distance, upon a mountain cliff, a white-clad woman gently blew upon a jade flute. The melody was mournful and heartbreakingly beautiful — drenched in sorrow beyond compare.