The Book of Time was over a foot in length, perfectly square, crystalline and nearly transparent, with scattered points of luster — mysterious and eerie, unsettling to the spirit.

Time was nearly impossible to erode away, and this kind of human skin was thus referred to as Divine Skin — imperishable across ten thousand tribulations, emanating a world-shaking murderous aura that seemed capable of shattering a person’s very sinews and bones.

Densely packed characters covered its surface, inscribed on both the front and back sides. Ordinary eyesight could not make them out, for the lettering was exceedingly small.

These ancient characters were wrought like iron hooks and silver strokes, vigorous as an aged dragon and sinuous as an iron serpent — as though ten thousand swords and blades had been pressed into the skin itself, emitting a clear ringing sound that crossed the ages to reach them.

In that moment, it felt as though one stood in a land of glacial cold, bone-piercingly frigid, as if facing tens of thousands of wailing divine spirits. The crystalline luster atop the ancient sage’s human skin flickered ceaselessly.

Qi Luo extended a single finger, and wisps of mist and cloud flowed — yet the Divine Skin did not move a single thread. He parted his lips and lightly exhaled, a breath of innate Life Essence surging forth, transforming into a cascade of rosy radiance that fell upon the skin.

Tsss!

At last, some of the tiny characters emitted light — like little dragons in motion, resplendent and dazzling, each individual brushstroke severing the void.

“This isn’t working.” Qi Luo’s brow furrowed, and then he opened his mouth and spat out three successive mouthfuls of milky-white innate Life Essence, all of which fell upon the crystalline human skin.

Hummm!

This stretch of heaven and earth seemed like a sealed box whose interior had begun to tremble. Several hundred tiny characters on the Divine Skin lit up, each one branded into the void — every single one translucent and radiant.

Ye Fan felt a sense of wonder, sensing an indescribable power — as though time itself had shifted. This place had grown somewhat chaotic.

Qi Luo was laboring greatly, brow deeply creased. The several hundred tiny characters hung suspended and encircled him, dense and numerous. He rose from the ground and tried to wield them, only to find they would not obey.

“Still no good. These tiny characters simply refuse to answer the summons — their power cannot be drawn upon.”

Pop!

When he drew the rosy radiance back and absorbed the innate Life Essence into his body, the tiny characters once again became branded upon the translucent human skin and grew still.

Over ten thousand tiny characters, wrought as iron hooks and silver strokes — every single dot and stroke a temporal rune. So many tiny characters gathered together constituted a power that defied the heavens.

Yet ordinary people could not activate them. When ten thousand runes rose in unison, they would form a temporal node, altering the trajectory of time’s flow — within their covered range, things of incomprehensible terror would occur.

“This is a quasi-emperor’s secret treasure. Without reaching the realm of a sage, it is difficult to fully comprehend. It harbors no divine entity within — rather, it requires a particular vital energy to unlock it.” Qi Luo said.

A secret treasure differs from other weapons. It has its own unique method of use and is not a conventional weapon — yet some possess a staggeringly singular might, capable of shattering the universe and collapsing the heavens.

“An Overlord of Heaven who has lived through two lifetimes is truly formidable, to have forged such a secret instrument and dared to call it the Book of Time. There must surely be something exceptional about it.” Ye Fan said.

“When I think back to those days — the Overlord of Heaven holding the supreme scepter in one hand and the Book of Time in the other, unstoppable in all directions, with nothing in the world to obstruct him. Those who could withstand ten moves against him numbered fewer than the fingers on one hand.” Qi Luo sighed with emotion.

“This is a quasi-emperor’s skin — one who had partaken of the immortality elixir and attained the supreme fruit of the Dao.” Ye Fan examined it from every angle, turning it over again and again. Holding it felt like holding a fistful of steel needles — his flesh ached, and it was difficult to maintain a grip.

Had it not been refined into a secret treasure, there would have been no way to hold it in one’s hands at all. The murderous Dao principles contained within could very likely harm those who drew near.

Ye Fan attempted it repeatedly. In the end, the golden miniature figure within his brow-space took a single step forward, settled into a cross-legged seat atop the foot-square Divine Skin, activated the Circulating Qi technique, and with a whoosh broke through the sky and was gone.

Qi Luo’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He chased after it in urgent pursuit — and very shortly, with a flash of brilliant light, the golden miniature figure came bounding back with a grimace, darting swiftly back into the immortal platform.

“Well? What did you perceive just now?”

Ye Fan’s eyes snapped open. He felt a wave of throbbing pain at his brow and said: “It was fast as a stream of flowing light — and yet it still touched nothing of time. The pain was like being stabbed with needles.”

Suddenly his expression shifted, and he said: “Wait — that’s not right. It seemed as though time briefly paused for just an instant — a hairline crack, a sliver of a gap. Perhaps in time it will prove greatly useful.”

Afterward, he practiced and experimented again and again. One tiny character after another rose up from the foot-square Divine Skin and submerged the golden miniature figure, carrying it as it galloped through heaven and earth.

“A pity — there is only that one instant of temporal fracture, gone in a flash, too quick to be put to use.” Ye Fan said.

“For creating opportunities in battle, it still has its place. Used well, it is an absolute killing stroke.” Qi Luo said. He too had attempted it many times.

Ye Fan nodded. This secret treasure was simply too advanced — a magical instrument belonging to those above the sage realm. One could only imagine the bearing with which the Overlord of Heaven had once presided over all under heaven, scepter in one hand and Book of Time in the other.

Much later, the two of them settled onto a great slab of greenstone and began to converse at length.

As for the Village of Heaven — they possessed the secret arts of the Celestial Court, yet had been lacking one crucial piece: this quasi-emperor’s human skin, upon which the core contents were recorded.

Naturally, the core without its branches and leaves — without expansive subsidiary details — could not be considered complete. Only when the two were brought together would it constitute the true inheritance of the Celestial Court.

As for the Circulating Qi secret art, that was another matter entirely. It was not to be cultivated by any but the several founding leaders of the Celestial Court, and did not count among these scriptures — it was the founding sect’s supreme technique.

That very day, the two of them completed the Celestial Court’s scriptures. It could be said that these scriptures were a chilling sight — indeed, steeped in fresh blood, for they were purely a path of proving the Dao through slaughter.

Without question, this was not a suitable inheritance for Ye Fan. It did not align with the path he walked — he only killed his enemies, whereas the Celestial Court had made killing a kind of instinct, a kind of habit.

Nevertheless, upon careful study and close observation, many of the Dao principles were highly illuminating, capable of sparking analogous insights. As for the secret arts themselves, those could certainly be taken and put to use.

Qi Luo confessed plainly that he was not far from the sage realm — in time, he might well be able to set foot in that domain and truly challenge both the Underworld and the Human World.

“Do they really have sage-ranked assassins?” Ye Fan asked.

For an assassin to attain sagehood was an exceedingly grim and terrifying thing. To prove the Dao through killing was no idle boast — in true life-and-death battle, a sage-ranked assassin could cut down many of the same tier.

“In this stretch of heaven and earth, attaining sagehood is exceedingly difficult — but since they have re-emerged, how would they dare show themselves without the confidence to back it up?” Qi Luo said with a furrowed brow.

The Village of Heaven — men, women, young and old counted together — numbered perhaps a hundred and twenty or so. Not many. Yet every single one of them was a born killer, that instinct fused into the very marrow of their bones.

Ye Fan felt that if one were to find a suitable mountain and establish a sect, pulling these people in would instantly provide a complete foundation — a ready-made framework, requiring no particular effort.

As for Qi Luo, he had always been passionate about rebuilding the Celestial Court, intent on annihilating both the Underworld and the Human World. Set him to the toil and labor, and he would certainly perform his duties conscientiously.

“You have passed the Village of Heaven’s trials. You are now counted as the Celestial Court’s Divine Son.” Qi Luo said.

“The hell with being Divine Son — no matter how you hear it, it sounds like a position destined to get you killed. I’ve personally slain the last one myself — I absolutely will not accept the role.” Ye Fan shook his head.

“Don’t tell me you want to be the Overlord of Heaven straight away? Being the number one in the world is still far too distant a goal right now.” Qi Luo stared wide-eyed.

Two days later, Ye Fan brought the Black Emperor, Li Tian, and Yan Yixi to join him in the Village of Heaven.

“If Little Ye won’t be the Divine Son, I’m willing to take the role — I’m throwing caution to the wind. In the capacity of a sect master, I’ll condescend to temporarily join the Celestial Court.” Li Tian hollered, and then began searching around, saying: “If there’s a Divine Son there must surely be a peerless Divine Daughter — bring her out and let me have a look.”

“There is indeed a Divine Daughter — a beauty who could topple nations and cities. In time, she will be wed to the Divine Son.” Qi Luo said, narrowing his eye.

“Where? Let me have a look.” Li Tian said, thumping his chest. He was dead set on claiming the title of Divine Son — no one was going to compete with him for it.

Before long, a middle-aged woman of striking beauty came carrying an infant girl — just barely over a year old, chubby-cheeked and adorable, clutching a milk bottle and making soft smacking sounds.

“Divine Son… Divine Son…” the little one’s words were slurred, her smile utterly endearing with all her baby fat, as she reached her little arms forward and called out.

“I give up. This is the Divine Daughter? Old man, are you making a fool of me?” Li Tian immediately deflated, his head drooping down.

“Divine Son… brother… carry me…” the infant girl stretched out her arms, not frightened of strangers in the least, smiling at the whole group.

“Hey, youngster, someone’s calling you ‘brother’ — get over there.” The Black Emperor poked Li Tian and shoved him forward with a single bump of his rear end.

Li Tian took the little girl and immediately passed her straight to Ye Fan, saying: “Hold your family’s Divine Daughter.” He was perfectly righteous and forthright about it, declaring himself a sect master — he simply could not become the Celestial Court’s Divine Son.

Ye Fan was caught between laughter and tears. The infant was adorable — blinking her big eyes, pacifier in her mouth, grinning nonstop at all of them, stretching out a pair of soft, delicate little hands and babbling at each of them in turn, calling them “brother.”

Whether it was because she had been well-taught in her daily upbringing, or whether she was simply born with a sweet nature, or something else entirely — meeting them for the first time, she was not the least bit afraid, and even wanted to grab the big black dog by its ears.

“In twenty years, Little Sparrow will be peerless and unrivaled all on her own, and will cut down every last so-called dragon, phoenix, divine son, and divine daughter.” Qi Luo said with full confidence, then turning to Ye Fan and the others: “Little Sparrow is no ordinary child. Even without anyone else, she alone will be capable of flattening every last member of the Underworld’s and the Human World’s younger generation.”

“Yes.” Little Sparrow seemed to grasp the meaning, nodding her head with solemn seriousness.

Ye Fan noticed that this infant girl was indeed somewhat exceptional — at such a tender age, she was already connected to the vital energy of heaven and earth, cultivating at every moment without pause.

“What constitution is this?” The Black Emperor crowded forward, unable to help himself asking.

“Born with an immortal root, suited for cultivation — it does not necessarily require any particular special constitution. For example, the Holy Son of Yao Guang is said to possess an ordinary body, yet surpasses many royal constitutions. The same is true of the ancient Great Emperors — save for a few exceptions, who knew what constitutions they possessed?”

“Since there’s no Divine Son, I’ll present you with one.” Li Tian released little Tong Tong from within his magical instrument.

The moment the little one appeared, he burst into tears, immediately running to Ye Fan’s side and sobbing as he cried out “Master,” terrified of being locked away again by Li Tian.

For all these days, he had truly been bored to death — facing nothing but dry and tedious books day after day, endlessly memorizing.

“Alright, you can stay outside from now on.” Ye Fan said in his thoroughly irresponsible capacity as Master.

“This child is quite extraordinary.” Qi Luo fixed his gaze on little Tong Tong.

Extraordinary he certainly was — the little one radiated light all over, like a miniature sun, which even made the little infant girl curious. She babbled with delight, her face wreathed in smiles.

“There, there… little nephew mustn’t cry.” Little Sparrow said with slurred pronunciation, blinking her big eyes.

The entire group was speechless. What could this infant possibly understand — and yet she truly seemed to consider herself the Divine Daughter, laughing cheerfully as she comforted a “nephew” older than herself?

“Establishing a sect is troublesome business. Elder Qi, I’ll leave the rear to you. I need to recruit some more people — we’re seriously short on personnel right now.” Ye Fan said.

“Where are you going?” Qi Luo asked.

“To take a trip to the Central Region. There are two people I haven’t been able to get my hands on, and they’ve always left me ill at ease.” Ye Fan said.

“Who?” Everyone was startled.

“The Divine Reckoner, and his prized disciple.” That very day, Ye Fan and his companions set out. The big black dog roared and clamored — back in the day when it had been ambushed, the Divine Reckoner’s hand had very likely been involved, and this time it wanted to settle the score once and for all.

Of course, Ye Fan’s reason for going to find the Divine Reckoner and his disciple to settle accounts had another important purpose as well: he wanted to find out through him whether Pang Bo and the others were still alive, and where they were now — to seek out all of his old companions.

“Wait — fetch the Old Blind Man first. Let this old charlatan handle the Divine Reckoner first. We at least need to find the entrance to their mountain gate, or we won’t even catch a glimpse of anyone.”

In the end, the Old Blind Man was invited out from his mountain retreat, and together with them he crossed the void to the Central Region, entering the Tianyan Mountain Range.

This was a rather strange place — countless stone mountains arranged in patterns of remarkable regularity. When Ye Fan and his companions stood in the sky and looked downward, they were immediately struck dumb: this was a natural Eight Trigrams formation.

A thousand mountains rose in succession, arranged together like an Eight Trigrams diagram — the great power of nature had formed this extraordinary and peculiar landscape.