The great battle came to an end. Points of radiant light scattered and dissolved, like a rain of blossoms falling to their deaths, leaving behind only grief — a desolation beyond words.

Yan Qi’s torso had been reduced to a bloody pulp, his skull split open. In his final moment, his dim eyes gazed toward the direction of the Northern Dipper, filled with an inexplicable sorrow.

“Pff!”

A streak of light flashed past. His head exploded, and his primordial spirit bloomed outward like a firework. The Great Sage of Fire Unicorn Cave fell into ruin, quietly returning to dust.

“The cultivator’s path is far too cold and lonely…” Only these words drifted out, swallowed by the moaning wind.

Clouds of blood mist drifted across the ancient star — all of it belonging to the sacred, mingled together until they could no longer be distinguished. Here and there lay fragments of white bone streaked with threads of crimson, silently proclaiming that boundless desolation. The battle had ended. The Saints of the Northern Dipper were defeated and gone.

Withered leaves fell in a rustling cascade. Dead branches blanketed the wilderness. Silence reigned. The Fifth Sacred Star had become, in every sense of the word, a dead star.

“Zheng… zheng… zheng…”

The Qilin Divine Staff trembled and struggled, as if overcome with grief. Its entire form glittered a deep icy blue like cut diamonds, emanating ten thousand strands of rosy light — yet it could not break free.

The Divine Garment of Dao Resonance had long since slipped free from the Great Sage’s body and now “draped” itself over the Ancient Emperor’s divine staff, suppressing it. Simultaneously, the formation diagram contracted inward, pressing down upon the immortal robe.

Beneath this twofold suppression, the Qilin Divine Staff gradually stilled, its divine spirit sinking into slumber, never to be fully revived again.

Dao Yi stood motionless within the mountain range for a long while. No joy, no rage, no sorrow, no pleasure — no trace of emotion was visible on his face.

“The mortal world is but a copper furnace; we are all struggling to cross through the blazing fires of the red dust…” He sighed softly. The light in his eyes returned to its former serenity, and the radiance that was natural to him shone through once more.

He and the Great Sage worked together to clear the battlefield. They refined the Fifth Sacred Star into a crystal no larger than a fist, yet heavier than the heavens themselves — capable of crushing an entire cosmos — and stored it away.

Meanwhile, deep in the darkness of the universe, inside a vast cosmic mothership, Huo Qizi sat huddled in a corner with his knees drawn to his chest, cloaked in boundless grief, setting off alone on his solitary journey.

“Ah…”

The Eternal Sovereign Star. Luan Feng, Mi Luo, and others unleashed slaughter without restraint, invincible in all directions, their divine valor beyond all resistance.

Yan Qi had fallen. The sacred ones were destroyed. Certain Ancestral Kings who had not journeyed to the Fifth Sacred Star now faced a reckoning — besieged from all ten directions, embroiled in warfare across the eight desolations.

The Ancestral Kings of every Northern Dipper clan were destined for defeat. Without a Great Sage to lead them, the strongest among them had already perished. Defeat in this campaign was inevitable.

Beyond the domain, bitter winds and blood rained down. The great war in which the Northern Dipper had attacked the Eternal Star finally concluded, leaving behind numerous sacred remains.

Beyond the domain, nearly all of the outsider Saints had also been annihilated — they had gained nothing, and lost their lives.

After the battle, no joy spread among the factions of the Eternal Star. They had gained a profound understanding of the Northern Dipper’s terrifying might. But was it truly over? No one could say with certainty.

“Leave — flee the Eternal Star Domain!” Certain great families had prepared for the worst and withdrew a portion of their forces from the area, sending them far away.

“Aoo…”

Cries of mourning rang out across the Eastern Desolation. The ancient clans were shaken to their cores, unable to believe what had happened. Even Yan Qi had fallen. Even the Ancient Emperor’s divine weapon had been confiscated.

Some smaller clans, possessing only a single Ancestral Saint, had launched their distant campaigns hoping to seize a portion of the spoils, only to find themselves now in ruin — plunging their people into grief and lamentation.

This was a storm of bitter sorrow that threw the lands of the Northern Dipper’s Eastern Desolation into chaos, and many people could not accept this outcome.

The ancient clans cried out in anguish. When the battle ended, only the Nine-Phoenix King, the Qilin Heavenly King, the Bull Demon King, and a handful of other powerful figures returned. News of the defeat swept through ten thousand clans like a tempest.

“A pity — and a lament. How many heroes lie buried in foreign lands? Even the legendary Great Sage Yan Qi did not return alive!”

“This is a burden too heavy to bear. So many have fallen. The cost of the campaign against the Eternal Star was far too great.”

Every faction sighed in grief. The Fire Unicorn Cave in particular seethed with murderous fury, longing to pour endless flames of war across the Eternal Star, to launch one final, ultimate campaign.

Yan Qi had fallen. The powerful had been destroyed. Huo Qizi had not yet returned, his fate unknown. The defeat was complete and utter — a catastrophe beyond words.

“The path to immortal ascension is about to open. Who knows how many will still be willing to join another distant campaign…”

The Eternal Star was a hard bone to chew. Every faction was now preparing for the ascension to immortality — none were willing to squander the accumulated foundation built up since ancient times.

“How can this be allowed to end here? Our Primordial Lake and the Blood Phoenix Mountain are willing to seek justice on behalf of our fellow Dao companions.”

The supremely ancient imperial clan was aggressive. Someone stepped forward, demanding a third campaign — to establish overwhelming prestige and refuse to accept this humiliating defeat.

On the Eternal Sovereign Star, Dao Yi stood atop a shattered mountain. Withered leaves drifted in all directions. He raised his eyes to the grey sky and murmured quietly, “A great catastrophe is coming.”

“Your Highness, let us be on our way.” The Great Sage who had once fought Yan Qi spoke, standing behind him with hands clasped respectfully.

Dao Yi replied: “The Eternal Star will inevitably fall — its strength is far inferior to the Northern Dipper’s. By relying on the Imperial Dao’s immortal might to hold the defensive line, it can endure for some years. Perhaps it can even draw the divine beings here.”

“Even if it can hold for ten years, or a hundred — what then? In the end, it will still be broken. The Northern Dipper has gathered the descendants of the emperors of this entire cosmos.” The Great Sage sighed softly.

Dao Yi smiled faintly and said: “Perhaps it will not be that grim. Perhaps within a few years, an earth-shattering transformation will come. The Northern Dipper’s path to immortal ascension is about to open — and if it truly does, who will still have eyes for this place?”

The collision between star domains paused briefly. Both sides were suppressed, near suffocating, for they knew that when the next storm came, it would be even more terrible than anything before.

“Your Highness, you have no time to waste. It is time to set foot upon that path.” The Great Sage offered his reminder.

Dao Yi nodded: “Indeed. Time presses. I, too, wish to see what manner of peerless powerhouses I will encounter along the way — those who will temper me to the absolute peak.”

“Every supreme clan within this cosmos has its own ancestral path — yet different roads lead to the same destination. In the end, they all converge into one. Your Highness cannot yet know who you will meet.”

“In your view, which path is more important — this one, or the path of immortal ascension?” Dao Yi asked with a smile.

“The path of immortal ascension is the great transformation that the ancient emperors have long awaited. But this ancient road can make a person stronger. It is said that at its terminus lies the ultimate transformation — all who break through to the end will have proven their Dao. I truly cannot say which path matters more.”

Ye Fan’s scheme had come to fruition, triggering a decade of war between the Northern Dipper Ancestral Kings and the powerful forces of the Eternal Star — a canvas painted in blood and bone.

The fifth-stage evolution fluid had been successfully refined, its fragrant essence permeating the air and sending the new Heavenly Village into a frenzy. This was undoubtedly a development of far-reaching consequence — it gave the Heavenly Court sufficient confidence to face whatever transformations the future might bring.

Yet Ye Fan remained deeply troubled. The greatest upheaval in all of ancient history was about to arrive. Would the path of immortal ascension open? He could not know what this world would have left after the battle was done, or whether he would ever see the old familiar faces again.

Ye Fan advised the Heavenly Court to distance itself from the Northern Dipper, to remain apart from the Eternal Star as well — to withdraw from every battlefield, to stand alone in the vast starry sky, and to endure a hundred years of solitude.

Golden wheat fields. A lake where fish with golden scales leapt in the sunlight. This was a season of harvest. Ye Fan sat at the edge of the field, listening to the rustling of the wind through the grain, his heart at peace.

“War, war, war. Kill, kill, kill. So many have died…” Since withdrawing from the Eternal Star, he had felt a bone-deep weariness — and yet this was the cultivator’s path: pressing forward against all hardships and adversities.

He took out a jade cauldron containing the fifth-stage evolution fluid, drank some of it, and poured the rest over himself, beginning the process of refining and absorbing it.

He had no desire to use it to attain sainthood — but when he attempted it without expectation, he discovered that the barrier surrounding his sacred domain far surpassed that of ordinary people; it was so solid and unyielding that it seemed impossible to break.

Ye Fan was not troubled. On the contrary, he laughed. Very well — then I shall shatter it with an extraordinary accumulation of power. When the time comes, I will break through it in a single stroke and become a Saint.

He used the fifth-stage evolution fluid to temper his body, though it could not help him attain Dao or achieve sainthood — a mystery that even Qi Luo could not fathom, for the fluid had proven effective even for her.

For an entire year, he spent the greater part of his time in quiet meditation. Occasionally he wandered among mountains, rivers, and fields, dissolving all remnants of murderous energy, leafing through that scroll of the Great Dao of Nature, and reflecting upon the secrets hidden within his own being.

In the course of this process, he successively unlocked one treasure after another hidden within his body. Stars harbored within the blood, divine spirits crystallizing within the bone, the Dao born from a single thought — all of these and more elevated his combat power still further.

A year of quiet cultivation. A year of profound realization. Ye Fan finally set off on the road again. This time, he brought Long Ma with him — he would no longer travel alone.

They said this was the ancient road of the starry sky, where those who had achieved the Dao — emperors in their youth — might once have come here to compete and contend. So there was nothing unusual about him riding a mount that only the ancient emperors could possess.

More importantly, Long Ma had one of his tendons snap — and this time he no longer resisted. He was absolutely determined to set off alongside Ye Fan, declaring he intended to prove his Dao, and that in the future he would first become a Great Emperor and then return riding Ye Fan.

Naturally, such impudent words earned him a golden palm strike that very nearly flattened him entirely.

“Withered vines, ancient trees, crows at dusk. A small bridge, flowing water, a village home. A lone traveler on an ancient road, riding a lean horse into the west wind, as the sun sets in the west…” The little bald one chanted these lines in farewell from a distance, apparently babbling nonsense.

“Am I lean? I could eat several Saints without any trouble!” Long Ma snorted, stepped into the starry sky, and was gone.

At Heavenly Village, everyone gathered to see them off, waving in silence. When they would meet again, no one could say.

In the years that followed, Ji Zi and the Sacred Emperor’s son successively set out on their own journeys, each embarking on the path of imperial forging — and their whereabouts became unknown thereafter.

The Northern Dipper shifted and churned. The Saints descended. It was said that even the Crown Prince of the Golden Crow Clan had arrived, sending tremors through the entire star domain as every clan came to pay their respects.

Then came visitors from the Heaven-Piercing Ancient Star. On the Curved Handle Ancient Star, a peerless powerhouse descended… The waves surrounding the path of immortal ascension surged ever higher and wilder!

Yet all of this no longer had anything to do with Ye Fan. From that point on, this star domain held only his legend — and he himself could no longer be seen.

Ten years. Ye Fan departed and was gone for ten years. He rode Long Ma along that ancient road, advancing alone in solitude, tracing the footsteps of those who had come before, setting out on the trial of the most powerful.

Leaving the Northern Dipper behind, crossing beyond the Eternal Star, the road was one of unceasing crisis and unending bloody battle — he fought his way through every step.

The hardships he faced, the terrors of the powerhouses he encountered — none of this was known to the outside world. Even someone as strong as him had met with accidents on several occasions, coming within a hair’s breadth of death.

Ten years of journey. Even he himself no longer knew where he had traveled. He had seen the Ant Clan’s Holy King, battled the remnant Saints sealed within stones, fought the remnants of the Spirit Clan, hacking through thorns with the sun and moon as his companions on the march.

These were his years of exhaustion, and his years of harvest. He had witnessed one powerful figure after another. He had encountered tens of thousands of secret arts. All the flaws that had accumulated from taking the evolution fluid in haste and rushing for results had been ground away to nothing.

Along this road, he left behind a legend of invincibility. Even Long Ma shook the far reaches of distant domains, carving out a name of thunderous renown.

The distance was immense. Ten years of treading through star domains — yet he had not seen a single ancient star truly teeming with life. At most, there were small worlds nestled on dead stars.

Some races had no need for vitality. They could survive in absolute desolation — like the remnant Saints sealed within stone.

Ten years of great battles, a baptism of blood and fire — Ye Fan’s heart had become iron, and he had forged his own path.

Ten tumultuous years. The Eternal Sovereign Star had come close to being utterly devastated. Every great clan had suffered grievous losses — and had it not been for the appearance of a white-haired figure carrying a black sword on his back, whose single sword stroke, brilliant as cold light, struck down ten supremely ancient clans, this place might well have become a desolate wasteland.