In the light of the setting sun, a white-robed figure walked forward — step by step. The evening glow fell upon him, casting him in sacred radiance, making him appear utterly transcendent and otherworldly.

His appearance stirred the heart of every single person. Many cried out with raw, unrestrained emotion — having endured the contempt that arose from the very core of seven Ancestor Kings, every person had been suffocating with pent-up anguish.

This was a face that appeared heroic and youthful — yet the depths of those eyes held a sea of hard-won experience, revealing that he had not been young for a long time.

A robe of snow-white billowed softly in the wind. Treading upon the evening glow like a waking dream, his flashing brilliance — a matchless and unrivaled divine bearing — made people want to drop to their knees in reverence.

This was not the coercion of an aura’s pressure. It was an emotion that moved all to elation. The crowd erupted.

“A sage!”

“A sage who belongs to our human race!”

Since they had parted all those years ago, almost seventeen or eighteen years had passed. Ye Fan’s eyes stung with a sharp ache. He had not imagined he would meet the White-Robed Divine King here.

Everything that he was able to reach today had been given to him by Jiang Shenwang — who had helped him reconnect the severed path of the Holy Body, cleansed the great Dao with divine blood, and helped him break through.

One could say that everything he possessed now had been exchanged by Jiang Shenwang at the cost of his own life. Without that, Ye Fan would likely have faded into obscurity like everyone else.

“Divine King…” Ye Fan’s voice trembled. Even his steps were unsteady as he moved forward to meet him.

In those days, the Divine King had sung a song of lament — a hero entering his twilight years, departing alone into the great wilderness, seeking only death. The sorrow of that had left Ye Fan aching, yet powerless to help.

And now, to at last see him appear in the world once more — Ye Fan’s heart surged with boundless emotion. For the Divine King was the person Ye Fan respected most in all the world.

The Divine King’s hair was completely white — as brilliant and pure as snow. His frame was tall and commanding; his bearing beyond compare. From the moment he appeared, one felt as if a magnificent mountain stood before them capable of holding up the sky — a sense that he could carry everything, like an immortal pillar propping up heaven itself.

Many were overwhelmed. Quite a few were quietly wiping tears; their eyes had gone red. Having been suppressed for so long, every person yearned desperately for a sage of the human race to arrive.

Even the seven Ancestor Kings could not help but turn. Upon seeing this man of transcendent bearing, every one of them felt a start in their hearts. The coldness in their expressions faltered for a moment.

“Divine King…” Ye Fan, having come close, knelt in the deepest bow of ceremony — voice near-breaking, the emotion deeply sincere.

“Rise!” The Divine King Jiang Taixu personally reached out with great force and pulled him to his feet.

His white robes were as vivid as a painting. The supreme bearing of that earlier age seemed to still live before one’s eyes, and hearts surged with turbulent emotion. Kings were not scarce in the world — but there was only one White-Robed Divine King to whom the word “matchless” had ever been attached.

The setting sun dyed heaven and earth crimson. The Divine King blazed with gorgeous radiance as he stood there, illuminating the heart of every single person. One felt that he alone could hold up the entire sky.

“Divine King!”

“The Matchless Divine King!”

In that moment — none could say who called out first — but everyone else followed, shouting together in unison, their voices shaking heaven and earth.

In the most desperate of moments, the arrival of a single person had this effect — stirring the blood and spirit of all present. Even the many ancient clans were gripped with waves of alarm and awe.

And the seven Ancient Kings of the primordial age all showed expressions of surprise. A rare glimmer of light moved within their eyes as they quietly watched.

The Divine King had lived an unfortunate life. Renowned from youth, he had cut the three Dao at an early age under the immortal stage, achieving the pinnacle of kinghood — but heaven envies genius. Just as he stood at his zenith, he was trapped deep within the Violet Mountain and imprisoned there for four thousand years.

When he returned, everything had changed. A hero’s whole life — yet he was in his twilight years, growing old toward death. Nothing is more agonizing than that. He had possessed an invincible bearing, yet could only wait quietly for life to walk toward its end.

And what was even more tragic: the woman he loved had died to save him. He could only watch. With a heart and history as worn as that, cradling the cold corpse of the Fairy of Colored Clouds as the sun set in a blaze of sorrowful crimson — that was how his hair turned white.

Anyone who knew the life of the Divine King would be moved — sorrow for him, injustice on his behalf. Fate’s cruelty. He was the kind of outstanding talent whose story made others ache alongside him.

In his youth he had slain the Solar King — who had long since reached the great completion realm — one of the twin kings of the Central Province. And not long ago, during the battle in which the Barbarian Tribe’s iron cavalry swept through the northern plains, it was revealed that he had dealt a devastating blow to the Wang Family’s deep-rooted hidden Dark Demon King — stripping that being of the confidence to ever seek his own path to the Dao.

And how many other deeds, unknown to the world, had he accomplished in his younger years? With such a glorious record of battle — if those four thousand years had not been wasted — how far might he have grown?

Every time one thought of it, the heart could not help but sigh with regret for the Divine King. This was what it truly meant to be gifted by heaven with a genius beyond comparison!

“Finally something decent — a single sage has emerged,” one of the Ancient Kings said coldly.

The scene fell quiet. All attention was fixed on the white-robed king in their midst — or perhaps it was more fitting now to call him the white-robed sage. But in people’s hearts, they preferred to call him the White-Robed Divine King. This was no longer merely a rank of achievement — it was an exclusive title unlike any other.

“A sage of a somewhat different kind from the rest,” said the one Ancient King among the seven who had not yet spoken. He furrowed his brows slightly and asked: “How do you wish to be addressed?”

“Jiang Taixu,” the Divine King replied with calm composure. His eyes held a bright, living light — radiant as the very evening glow itself.

He had no sage’s aura about him, and no intimidating pressure. Yet standing there, he was on equal footing with the seven Ancient Kings — not the slightest hint of weakness.

That was the feeling of every person present. Whether illusion or reality, their hearts became utterly settled. With the Divine King here, it was as though a stabilizing anchor had been set in the sea — one felt at peace.

“Why is it… that I sense you are different from other sages?” One of the Ancient Kings, his cold detachment receding, allowed a trace of puzzlement to surface upon his face.

“Different — you and I are of different races, and the Dao we have proven is different as well,” the Divine King said.

“No, that’s not it. What manner of Dao have you proven? You are absolutely more powerful than an ordinary sage.” This Ancient King pressed, his voice low and measured.

Everyone present was astonished — the ancient clans especially; some were nearly shaken to the core. For this Ancient King to utter such words was proof enough that the white-robed sage standing before them surpassed him.

“The ages are different now. Every sage of the human race is unlike any other,” Jiang Shenwang said calmly.

Yet those words, once spoken, rang like a bolt of lightning — and every Ancient King present was visibly shaken, their expressions changing for the first time.

And among the others, only a handful managed to parse the meaning — and their faces blanched in shock as well.

This was the post-primordial age. It was utterly unlike the past. Heaven and earth could barely tolerate the emergence of sages; no one was able to prove the Dao. Even kings were nearly impossible to find!

For many years this era had been one of despair for those of extraordinary talent — brimming with genius, yet unable to cut the Dao. Life passed in idle waiting; hair turned white; laments were sung in vain — and nothing came of it.

But the primordial age before had been different. When the rules of heaven and earth had not yet changed, kings were not uncommon; every great clan had sages of their own. Reaching cultivation-completion was far easier than it was now.

In the present age, even a cultivator who reached the great completion of kinghood was as rare as the feathers of a phoenix. Compared with the ancient age, the difficulty of achieving sagehood could only be higher — never lower. Given such stringent conditions, how could one even speak of taking that single step beyond?

Throughout these years, anyone who managed to achieve the three cuts under the immortal stage was already remarkable. Each such person had forged their own unique path — the product of extraordinary convergences of fortune, impossible to replicate.

To transcend into sagehood against the resistance of an era that refused to permit it — what level of will and what caliber of talent did that require?

A sage who achieved the breakthrough in this backdrop — each and every one was beyond comparison. They were unlike any other. They were sages who had surmounted the impossible.

Even if they had taken only the first step beyond the threshold — they were terrifying. Because they were kings among sages. They had succeeded where success was most impossible.

Who was the White-Robed Divine King? He had been given the title “matchless.” He himself was a kingly constitution to begin with — and when one added the backdrop of this most difficult of ages, there was no question: he could rightfully be called the king among kings.

“The ages are different now…” one Ancient King murmured to himself, a sea of turbulent shock rising within his heart.

Sages of the human race were nearly never seen — but whenever one emerged, they were spectacularly, terrifyingly exceptional. It left even the ancient clan members apprehensive.

“The gathering of ten thousand clans is about to begin. Will none of you come inside and take a seat?” the Divine King invited. His hair was as white as snow; his bearing tall and commanding; his words balanced and composed.

“It is not worth sitting for. With no one here fit to be our equal, what manner of grand assembly is this? We would sit idle, with no one fit to share our table — who would there be to converse with?”

One of the Ancient Kings tore open the wound without mercy, filling many human cultivators with fury — yet they had no rebuttal. Had Jiang Shenwang not arrived, this would simply have been the truth.

“How about you sit and discourse on the Dao with me?” the White-Robed Divine King said.

“You are remarkable, and we do intend to learn from you — but pass through us first!” One Ancient King stepped forward and attacked without delay.

From behind his body, thirty-six pairs of divine wings spread and beat together — immediately releasing a curtain of heavenly light. A divine sword of the Heavenly Dao rose up and cleaved straight down.

This was the convergence of immeasurable divine principles: his most powerful single strike. In a battle between sages, a single blow can sometimes determine victory or defeat — and decide whether one lives or dies.

In the evening glow, Jiang Taixu was wreathed entirely in the golden light of the setting sun. His only movement was to bring two fingers together and cut downward.

Clang!

The sword of the Heavenly Dao shattered against the Divine King’s two fingers. The divine principles dissolved into smoke, transforming into a dazzling flash of light that vanished into the void.

BOOM!

An even more terrifying great battle broke open. This time, a full six sages attacked — all of them save one Ancient King — all converging to suppress the White-Robed Divine King together.

A thousand threads, ten thousand strands — all manner of light-forms interwove and merged into a great chain of Dao that slashed downward. The resonant tones of heavenly Dao rose in every direction; every form of auspicious energy sprayed outward and cascaded down.

This was the killing blow unleashed through the combined forces of six sages — wresting creation from heaven and earth, contesting radiance with the sun and moon, benevolence and lethal force advancing together.

“Boundless light, boundless tribulation, boundless power — suppressed for all eternity!” The six cried out as one. Their voices rang through heaven and above the earth — a rumbling, thunderous sound that carried untold tens of thousands of li.

The void ahead collapsed. Chaos light flickered into visibility, cutting open a small world — and in this place, the primal energy of the opening of heaven began to stir.

This was an incomparably powerful assault. Heaven sent down its finest colors; the earth manifested divine lotuses. Every form of light converged and became a divine sea!

Everyone fell prostrate. Not because they were being attacked — but because they could not withstand the pressure that bore down from the sky. The world seemed to be ending.

The Matchless Divine King moved both hands. Time seemed to stop for him. His white hair flew. His gaze was resolute, unshaken. He traced the trajectory of the Dao.

Only Ye Fan could see it clearly — he was manifesting the Sacred Technique of the Battle Saint, the greatest offensive power of five thousand years, shining brilliantly once more!

And this time, the Divine King arrived as a sage, unleashing that invincible assault once more — the greatest offensive power — at sage level!

BOOM!

Heaven and earth cracked open. A furnace, crimson-red as blood, appeared — sacred and vast, filling the sky. Upon it were carved ancient patterns: divine birds, suns, and many more. Laws of every kind interwove around the sacred furnace, and the resonant sound of the Heavenly Dao rang out endlessly, pressing down — unstoppable by any!

“What — you brought an ultimate Dao imperial weapon!”

“Is this — the Jiang Family’s Hengyu Furnace?!”

Several Ancient Kings were horrified. Cold sweat broke out, rising from somewhere deep within — a profound sense of powerlessness. They could not withstand it; they were being pressed down without cease.

“No — this is a combat sacred art he has manifested, not an imperial weapon. This… this is too terrifying!” One of the Ancient Kings went ice-cold all over.

Everyone was shaken to the core — a bombshell. The human cultivators all understood — this had to be the Sacred Technique of the Battle Saint, manifesting the supreme assault!

“The greatest offensive power of five thousand years — an unbroken legend!”

Everyone was stirred to the depths. After stepping into the sage realm, the White-Robed Divine King was even more invincible than before — still the same incomparable, matchless Divine King!

The ancient clans’ faces showed unmistakable fear. Every soul was chilled. One person’s power suppressing six sages — what manner of bearing was this? A supreme powerhouse without equal, the king among sages!

High in the sky, the sacred furnace, wreathed in crimson radiance, was irresistible — pressing the six Ancient Kings’ frames into bending, on the verge of forcing them to their knees.

That matchless bearing had not diminished from years past. Five thousand years of unsurpassed offensive power — still an unbroken legend!

The king’s hair was completely white — as brilliant and pure as snow. His frame was tall and commanding; his bearing beyond compare. From the moment he appeared, one felt as if a magnificent mountain stood before them, capable of holding up the sky — a sense that he could carry everything, like an immortal pillar propping up heaven itself.