The Silver Moon Heavenly King — divine bones and sacred sinew, renowned throughout the Primordial Age. He was an ancient sage of heaven-bestowed genius, held in awe by the ten thousand clans and stunning the world.
His cultivation was profound and deep. Perhaps one day of sudden enlightenment would carry him out onto the path of a Great Sage. Yet now his bones were broken to pieces, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth — he had nearly been turned into a slab of minced flesh by that single strike.
His silver-white hair was matted with blood. He had narrowly escaped death from that one palm strike. With great difficulty he stood back up, holy light coiling around him as his bone joints cracked and groaned, struggling to reconnect. His complexion was snow-white, his fury burning — but he dared not voice it.
For the one standing before him was none other than the legendary Dou Zhan Sheng Wang — the Battle Victory Saint King — who had shaken the Primordial Age with his might, swallowing mountains and rivers. With a single moment of rage he could uproot dozens or hundreds of clans without difficulty!
At this moment, to argue with him was absolutely to court death — he could forfeit his life at any instant.
The Silver Moon Heavenly King understood well that no matter how dazzling his talent or how great his renown, it was of no use — they were not even in the same category. Aside from the few great powers of the Primordial Age, before this figure, anyone who came — a dragon had to coil, a tiger had to lie low. There was no refusing it.
“The Battle Victory Saint King — as in times past, his bearing has not changed. He is still this magnificent!”
“How many years has it been — like a dream. The Battle Victory Saint King is an invincible summit. He is still the same as ever. I still remember his world-conquering manner as he swept through the eight wilds!”
The clans were all shaken, every one of them stirred. Whether the great royal clans or the great ancient imperial clans — every last patriarch was profoundly shaken. After the passing of the Primordial Age, this was the first time in this present world they had seen the Battle Victory Saint King.
“Time withers all. The generation-defining saint king of the past — iron bones and vigorous spirit, young and brimming with vitality, looking down on all under heaven, his chest full of battle blood sweeping the six directions. Now, at last, even he carries a trace of the ancient years, carved deep into the corners of his eyes and brows by the weight of time.”
“Time flows like water, gone in an instant. Though he has become a Victorious Buddha, his character and bearing remain unchanged!”
Many people were deeply moved. In that era, the Battle Victory Saint King was an absolute legend — for many young people of the ancient clans, he had been the invincible warrior they looked up to, gazing at a figure too high to reach.
So many years had passed. The children of that age had all grown up. Particularly many of the strong cultivators who had broken their seals from divine sources ahead of time were now growing old and gray.
To see the Battle Victory Saint King once more — people could not hold back the waves of feeling welling in their hearts. Even with cultivation that reached the heavens and the ability to extend one’s life without end, this invincible landmark figure now bore a trace of age.
“Greetings, Holy King!”
That Ancestral King in the jade-gold battle armor was overcome with emotion. He strode forward with great strides, bowed in formal salute, his body trembling faintly with the force of his feeling. Even though he had himself become a saint, held in universal reverence — now that he stood before the great hero of his heart, he could not suppress his surging excitement.
“When you were roaming the world in those days, I was still… just a young child.”
“Greetings, Holy King!”
From the distant mountain ranges, seven or eight figures flew out at once — each the Ancestral King of a clan — every face suffused with reverence and boundless excitement.
They were the same as the Ancestral King in the jade-gold battle armor: in childhood they had held this Battle Victory Saint in boundless admiration. They themselves had become dazzling enough to be the masters of their own lineages — yet that feeling and attachment had never changed.
In those years, the Battle Victory Saint King had feared neither heaven nor earth. His character was known to all. He had swept the six directions with his own power alone, raged through the eight wilds in battle, and set the whole world trembling. There were none who did not know of it.
“All of you, rise,” the old ape said.
His entire body of golden fur was crystal-clear and radiant, glowing brilliantly. He carried an authority without need for anger — like a battle god reborn, simply standing there caused all the assembled forces to tremble and quail.
From a distance, every face among the Eight Divine Generals was snow-white. Not a single one dared speak. Even those ancient kings of the saint’s level dared not breathe aloud — it was a form of prestige beyond all comparison.
How imposing and self-assured had the Silver Moon Heavenly King been? How supremely confident just moments ago? Yet now he could only stand to one side with his injured body, not daring to utter a single word!
“Holy King…” Some among the ancient clans actually had tears rolling from their eyes. A hundred million years since the Primordial Age — freed from the divine source, come to this great age — the Battle Victory Saint King was appearing before them for the first time.
“Uncle…” The ape also choked with feeling. In these past years he had not seen this uncle of his even once. He understood well that his closest relative’s remaining lifespan was not long — only one road lay before him. That was a breakthrough. Otherwise, nirvana was not far off.
Because the Battle Victory Victorious Buddha had been among the earliest of the ancient clans to awaken, breaking free from the divine source two thousand years prior. His age by now was truly staggering.
Ye Fan, too, held this Victorious Buddha in deep respect. Together with the Holy Imperial Prince and Ji Zi, he made a bow of greeting. Only the Black Emperor did not stir — he merely gave a nod.
The Battle Victory Saint King was a living legend. In those days, many had said that had he not been born in the same era as his elder brother, he might have proved the Dao himself. Being of the same age as an emperor — the impact of that was extremely severe. Heaven and earth resonated, the Great Dao pressed down upon him. Even later, when he had sealed himself in the divine source to avoid it and been born into this present age, the traces of that era still lingered upon him. After all, the time spent together had been too long — it left an imprint that made his road to proving the Dao exceptionally difficult.
The Battle Victory Holy Emperor had commanded the Primordial Age, held in reverence by heaven and earth and the ten thousand clans. And his younger brother was equally dazzling — carving out his reputation by fighting through the world and sweeping the six directions on his own strength. It was only natural that people admired him, and that he had become the hero in the hearts of many ancient clans.
“All of you, rise,” the old ape said.
His golden fire eyes were lit with wisdom as he spoke with a voice like a great bell tolling — resonant and powerful. He gazed into the void and said: “So many years have passed. The time has come to put certain matters to rest.”
The Shencan Princess’ expression was serene. Tears were in her eyes as she gazed upon that slightly aged silhouette — all her dominance and forcefulness was completely gone, replaced with a rare and uncommon gentleness and softness.
The small white tiger — the palm-sized divine silkworm’s transformed form — on her shoulder darted with a whoosh onto the Battle Victory Saint King’s body, not the slightest bit afraid, tugging at a lock of his hair to make its presence known.
The old ape slowly turned around. He looked at the Shencan Princess and said: “Today, no matter who comes — I will have justice served!”
It was a vow, and a declaration. The Battle Victory Saint King was going to act — to settle all the grievances of the Primordial Age. His followers’ blood surged with passion, their entire bodies trembling, overcome with excitement.
The Shencan Princess’ eyes brimmed with tears. She did not speak — only nodded. She knew the Battle Victory Saint King had been holding a breath in his chest all these years, waiting for the day he could fight for her!
From a distance, all the clans trembled. People knew that a great, heaven-shaking storm was about to be unleashed — no one would forget the great upheaval that had erupted after the Holy Emperor passed into nirvana.
The Shencan Princess had been pinned to her death. The Battle Victory Saint King had let out a cry of grief that shook heaven and earth, raged through the Eastern Desolation in battle — and in the end, powerless to reverse the tragedy, had wept three great cries beside the place where the Shencan Princess fell, before departing alone for the Western Desert.
“In this life — as long as I still draw breath — no one will harm a single hair on your head.” When the old ape had spoken, he turned his body around. A blazing light shot from both eyes, his spirit soaring to the heavens.
Many ancient clans felt wave after wave rising in their chests, all of them gazing upon that figure — not particularly imposing — and wanting to roar out loud.
The Battle Victory Holy Emperor had passed into nirvana, yet his influence remained vast and mighty. Many ancient clans were willing to follow in his path. Perhaps the Holy Imperial Prince had not yet attained that kind of authority — but the moment the old ape stepped forward, the winds and clouds of the entire Eastern Desolation were swept into motion!
This influence was beyond all comparison — born of the glorious achievements forged in battle across those years of old, carved out entirely by a single iron staff sweeping through the world.
“The line of the Battle Victory Holy Apes is sparse in numbers, yet has never fallen. Any single member who steps forth can overturn heaven and earth with a turn of the hand — governing the Primordial Age with a clan of only a few individuals was by no means a stroke of luck.”
From a distance, an aged voice carried across, setting the heavens rumbling and resonating, the four seas boiling, the sky ringing out — ten thousand mountains vibrating together.
“Kunzhou — get out here!” The Shencan Princess called out sharply, eyes blazing with two intense beams of light as she stared toward the edge of heaven, her brows raised in fury.
“The divine silkworm clan possess nine transformations through their life — it is said they carry nine hidden lives. Clearly this is no mere rumor. That one spear was enough to have ended your life. Yet now the Primordial Age has passed, and you have reappeared in the world.” An old figure appeared — wearing an imperial crown, his gray hair hanging loose, even his eyes gray, his gaze so imposing that every great Ancestral King trembled, wanting to kneel and prostrate.
He wore a moon-white battle robe, embedded with fragments of divine gold to protect his body’s vital points. At his brow was a piece of black-gold from the platform of immortal protection — true emperor-grade divine material — forged into a black sun to stand sentinel there.
His body was tall and slender, his eyes ancient and laden with the weight of ages. Though he radiated an endless and terrifying blood-and-qi energy, even that could not conceal the marks of age. His remaining lifespan was certainly not plentiful. He had walked very far along a solitary road of proving the Dao — to a height that those who came after could not even look up to see!
“Kunzhou.” The golden-furred Victorious Buddha narrowed his eyes. The divine golden irises opened and closed, radiant with brilliant light.
All around fell utterly silent. People were nearly suffocating. Two of the greatest powers of the Primordial Age had thus come face to face again — what followed was certain to shatter the heavens!
Ye Fan’s heart stirred with emotion. Two of the supreme existences standing at the very pinnacle of this age faced off before him, and he caught a glimpse of strands of immortal path energy — the golden blood within his body surged violently, refusing to be still.
“Battle Victory Saint King — we parted in the Primordial Age, and your bearing is unchanged. Meeting again in this world gives one cause for wonder.” Kunzhou stood there, gray hair drifting loose. His pair of gray eyes were as deep as two expanses of stars, within them the imagery of heaven and earth opening from nothing, the ten thousand things first coming into being.
“Master!” The Silver Moon Heavenly King offered a respectful bow.
Kunzhou raised one hand and a strand of immortal light flew out, entering his body. The bones that could not reconnect, the shattered sinew and flesh — all rapidly healed, and in an instant his blood and qi were full and vigorous, restored to what they had been.
“Greetings to Kunzhou the Great Sage!” Behind them, the Eight Divine Generals performed their salute as one — even several Ancestral Kings bowed with full sincerity. Their confidence was restored in an instant.
“Rise,” Kunzhou said softly — yet no one could refuse it. It pressed down upon the heart like a mountain, making it difficult even to raise one’s head to look upon his true form.
This was not done deliberately. A supremely powerful figure of this generation, standing naturally in his place, simply possessed this kind of aura of standing alone and supreme between heaven and earth — all living creatures would bow down before it.
“Congratulations — on this road, you have taken another pivotal half-step forward. The natural gifts of the Battle Victory Holy Ape line are truly heaven-defying.” Kunzhou the Great Sage said with a sigh.
“You are no less.” The old ape gave a nod.
“That battle of years past — I have never forgotten it. Though you were gravely wounded and on the verge of death as you departed for the Western Desert, you fought my clan uncle to his end. The chaos had barely settled before long — and not much time passed before he passed into nirvana.” Kunzhou said, his gray hair spreading loose in the wind.
“I had thought you would come together with him. I had not expected that he was already gone. A true pity.” The Battle Victory Victorious Buddha said.
All who listened felt their hair stand on end. Kunzhou’s lineage in the Primordial Age had been fearsome beyond measure — two Great Sages of one clan. It made the entire ancient star tremble; aside from the Holy Emperor’s lineage, there was nothing comparable.
It was said that Kunzhou’s clan uncle had been the most terrifying of all — he had once been the mightiest adversary in the Battle Victory Holy Emperor’s entire life, stunning all the ages, surpassing every ancient worthy that had come before!
“His clan uncle… lived out a second life!”
“In the eyes of many, he surpassed the few of his contemporaries who possessed imperial potential — those who had not yet proved the Dao. In the end, it was the Holy Emperor who rose against the heavens and barely prevailed in proving the Dao.”
“After that battle, Kunzhou the Great Sage’s uncle’s cultivation seemed to…”
People would not forget — he was a figure of the same age as the Battle Victory Holy Emperor, whose divine bravery was the greatest under heaven. For many long years on the road of proving the Dao, he had contended with the Holy Emperor blow for blow!
“The reason my father only lived one lifetime has to do with that person.” The Holy Imperial Prince said, his voice carrying a faint trace of sorrow.
Ye Fan was shaken. He had heard of these matters before. The Battle Victory Holy Emperor had encountered difficulties in his cultivation — before proving the Dao, he had nearly died. It turned out there was far more hidden behind that story.