“The culprit has been caught, dragged out by soldiers — now the truth will come to light.”

A day later, a commotion erupted within the First City of the Human Race.

Many people flew toward the central plaza, where a disheveled man appeared, thrown to the ground. His body was soaked in blood. He had failed in his attempt to assassinate a cultivator and had been captured by several soldiers, bound and brought here for public judgment.

Yet the crowd was disappointed. This man was only a half-saint — how could he have killed a true saint of profound cultivation? Upon examining his sea of consciousness, it became clear that he was not the assassin responsible for the saint’s death.

This incident deepened everyone’s anxiety. People grew wary of one another, each fearing for their own safety. If all the powerful figures began resorting to assassination, chaos would surely follow.

“This is supposed to be the First City of the Human Race — how can there be assassinations here? Even the city lord can’t identify the true culprit. Won’t that just give others room to exploit the situation? Someone might attack us in the night.” Long Ma mulled it over.

The city was vast and magnificent, its streets lined with clusters of buildings. The powerful figures from various domains lived scattered apart, distrustful of one another, unwilling to draw too close.

Starlight poured down like thin wisps of smoke. Deep in the night, when all was still, a sudden scream rang out — sharp and jarring, enough to make one’s blood run cold.

A contingent of soldiers surged forward like a torrent, but still came up empty-handed. All they found was a corpse, blood gushing ceaselessly from its wounds.

The city was thrown into an uproar. Many people watched from a cold distance, while others rushed over to the scene.

“What a pity — and he was still so young. Only thirty years old, yet he had already severed the Dao for many years and reached the Half-Saint realm. Truly a genius of his generation, cut down just like that.”

A man sighed softly. Though he appeared young, he was in truth already over a hundred and eighty years old — old enough to call someone in their thirties a child.

“He was truly a remarkable talent of his era. Even if he could never walk the Emperor’s Path, he had every potential to become a king among saints.”

A half-saint in their thirties was genuinely astounding. Even those who had already attained sainthood couldn’t help but sigh. Such a fierce trajectory was rarely seen throughout history — a true anomaly.

People began to realize that the assassin was unfathomably dangerous, and that the targets chosen were clearly deliberate — all of them figures who might one day make their mark on the Emperor’s Path.

The first victim had been a formidable saint. The second was a rising genius of limitless potential. Who would be the third? Everyone suspected the killer had no intention of stopping.

“What kind of cowardice is this — skulking in the shadows? Is this person even worthy of walking the path of the greatest trial? Too afraid to fight openly, only capable of killing from the dark. Despicable — nothing more than a rat!” Someone voiced their outrage.

“Perhaps this person is simply an assassin by nature, someone who must forge their Dao through blood and slaughter,” another speculated.

The Escorting Envoy issued an order: a citywide manhunt. The culprit had to be captured and killed. Two seed-level powerhouses had already died.

“And we haven’t even entered the trial grounds yet, and we’re already dealing with this.” Long Ma muttered to himself.

The river of stars hung low. The ancient city lay in a haze — tranquil and serene, with not a trace of killing intent in the air.

In the second half of the night, Ye Fan suddenly opened his eyes, transformed into a bolt of golden lightning, and shattered through the window, lunging toward a patch of empty space within the courtyard.

With a single punch he obliterated the void. Golden and blazing electricity intertwined around him. He was like a primordial beast breaking free from its cage, or a war god returned to life.

Whoosh!

A blurred black shadow was sent flying backward by the impact, blood scattering through the air — and then the figure rapidly dissolved into the emptiness of the void.

Ye Fan let out a cold snort, his own body vanishing as well. The Heavenly Court’s secret arts unfolded to their fullest extent, following like a shadow, paired with the Scriptural Art of Movement. His killing art reigned supreme beneath the heavens.

This was a saint — with extraordinary methods and immense power. Even Ye Fan felt a chill in his heart. This was unquestionably a rare and terrifying individual.

Hiss!

He manifested the Battle Saint Technique, and a great furnace appeared, pressing downward with crushing force. Phoenix cries shook the nine heavens. Firelight scorched the ancient city as the Eternal Universe Furnace descended to suppress the enemy.

The figure scattered a shower of blood and fell back, ghost-like and blindingly fast — faster even than a bolt of lightning.

In all the world, perhaps only Ye Fan’s Scriptural Art of Movement could keep pace. Several times the figure attempted to break free and flee, but each time Ye Fan cut off the path, trapping the figure here.

“Boom!”

Long Ma launched a surprise attack — boasting what he called his “Fairy-Treading Shadowless Kick” — landing one hundred and eight blows in rapid succession, each hoof strike shattering heaven and earth.

Thud!

The figure took one of those hoof strikes head-on and was sent flying dozens of meters, using the momentum to slip into the void, attempting to vanish using some secret technique.

Ye Fan was no amateur. He unleashed the Six Paths of Reincarnation Fist, shattering the cosmos. A presence like that of a primordial beast flooded the heavens, and the figure was knocked back down.

Such a battle naturally alarmed the powerful figures throughout the city. Cold, indifferent eyes appeared at nearby doorways, watching from a distance. Some came rushing to offer aid.

“Kill!”

A unified war cry rang out, like a great river of stars crashing onto the earth, stirring up boundless waves — deafening to the ears.

The soldiers guarding the great city had arrived. More than twenty of them came at once, encircling the area completely, sweeping away the surrounding structures as they forced their way in.

Beneath the clear, cold moonlight, Ye Fan stood alone, holding a human skin in his hand, studying it intently.

Long Ma came galloping back from the distance, having found no trace of any accomplices, nor anything suspicious in the area. He cursed in a continuous stream.

“What happened?” one of the soldiers asked in a low, steady voice.

Beneath the starry sky, vague shapes moved closer. A great number of powerful figures had arrived — most of them individuals walking the path of the greatest ancient trial — and they surrounded the area.

“Someone attempted to assassinate me. They failed.” Ye Fan answered.

The scene fell into complete silence. It was like a layer of dark clouds hanging over the city, suffocating to those within — yet Ye Fan was unharmed, having driven off the assassin. Many people wore expressions of surprise. The fact that he had been targeted served as absolute proof of his worth — the assassin clearly viewed him as a threat.

In the end, Ye Fan struck with the Six Paths of Reincarnation Fist, shattering everything. Even the shadowy figure grew dim, leaving behind only a human skin.

It was a relatively intact human skin — like a shed snakeskin, as though it had simply been peeled away. Apart from the face, the rest was perfectly preserved.

“This is the culprit’s skin?” People wore looks of bewilderment.

“Does that mean you killed him?”

Dawn arrived, and the incident set off a great wave of discussion. Many soldiers worked to reconstruct the scene of the battle, yet came away with nothing more of substance.

In the two days that followed, no further assassinations occurred within the city — a period of quiet. Some speculated that Ye Fan had slain the assassin. Others shook their heads in doubt.

The soldiers collected the human skin and sent it to the Escorting Envoy’s office. No conclusions were ever delivered.

“That person is absolutely not dead. I don’t know what secret technique they used.” Ye Fan knew clearly that knocking loose a human skin was not the same as truly killing the assassin.

“It looks like they won’t be showing themselves again anytime soon.” Long Ma said.

Ye Fan fell into thought, then spoke: “If it were purely an attempt to assassinate me, that would be one thing. But if the purpose was to use this to single me out — to draw attention to me, to plant rivals against me on all sides, to make me an obvious target — then there’s a scheme at work.”

The days that followed were peaceful. No further bloodshed occurred. People continued waiting for the trial grounds to open, yet the Escorting Envoy showed no sign of making any announcement.

Having rested and recovered their strength over many days, many people stopped secluding themselves and took to the streets, entering teahouses, restaurants, and the like, quietly biding their time.

While out walking, Ye Fan encountered a slender young man — the same one who, during their first encounter with the Thirteen Riders of the Primordial Wasteland, had kindly warned him that on this road, the strong do not yield for others.

Though he had arrived at the First City of the Human Race, Ye Fan still didn’t fully understand certain things. He alone had traveled this road unaccompanied, while every other stellar domain had companions.

“Why did so many of them come?”

Ye Fan humbly asked, having noticed that some stellar domains had sent an unusually large number of people — sometimes over a dozen, all from the same ancient land.

“How many people each domain sends is entirely up to the guardian of their ancient path. There’s no specific limit — unless there are particular concerns.”

The greatest ancient trial path was a burial ground for bones — only geniuses perished here. Even those with Emperor-level aptitude might fall along the way. It was far too perilous, and few survived to return.

Out of concern for their domain’s long-term prosperity, some ancient lands naturally wouldn’t send too many people — generally only around a dozen.

“A dozen…” Ye Fan was momentarily taken aback. As far as he knew, the Extraordinary Scholars’ Hall typically sent three. Only this current era was exceptional — with no restrictions imposed — because the path to immortality was about to open, and the omens were uncertain.

“There are also some ancient lands that, because of fearsome ancient enemies, have no choice but to send only two or three, for fear of retaliation.”

Upon hearing this, Ye Fan was stunned once more. It seemed the ancient path was governed by many unspoken rules — rules the former lord of the Extraordinary Scholars’ Hall had never elaborated on.

The Northern Dipper might have an unparalleled great enemy. The road ahead likely held the most terrifying of competitors. Had so many tens of thousands of years’ worth of hatred truly endured to this day?

“You… are from the Northern Dipper!?” The young man’s eyes went wide with shock, and then he lowered his voice, warning Ye Fan that it would be best not to mention it to anyone.

“Why?”

“I’ve heard that it is a star of buried emperors — a land where extraordinary heroes arise unceasingly, where divine children lie in wait. For countless tens of thousands of years, it has become the shared rival of countless stellar domains.”

Ye Fan was deeply surprised. The road ahead might place him against the entire world. And what he had seen so far was only a small fraction — a massive number of people had already set out long before.

Throughout the star-filled void, there were many small ancient paths. Some journeys went smoothly; others had been deliberately made harrowing by the great emperors of antiquity, filled with tribulation after tribulation. For any domain of true power, the road was never easy.

“I’ve heard that there are ancient paths for the human race, ancient paths for the divine races, and others besides — all diverging roads that ultimately converge onto a single main trunk.” The slender young man, named Rui Wei, shared some of the secrets he had come to know.

Walking this ancient path was not something every person did for the sake of proving their Dao. Each had their own purpose — because in the end, only one person would have the chance to become an Emperor.

Some people were realistic, with no desire to push all the way to the end. The entire universe’s powerful figures would converge to fight for that chance — how brutal would it be, and how many would have to die?

Rui Wei said: “Speaking for myself — reaching sainthood would be enough. But my most important goal is to find a life-sustaining ancient star for my people, because the space of our heavenly domain is nearly dried up.”

Ye Fan was silent for a moment. Rui Wei’s birthplace was a stretch of primordial pure land — similar to the heavenly domain of the Assassin Divine Dynasty, or the Chaotic Immortal Land of the Ruthless Man.

It was their ancestral homeland, discovered by a great sage of antiquity. In its early days the clan had flourished immensely, rich in ancient medicines and divine treasures. But now it had become uninhabitable.

“Many people don’t come from life-bearing stars, but from small worlds carved out by the great titans of antiquity. Some of those worlds still flourish to this day; others have fallen into utter desolation.”

Rui Wei sighed softly. The divine small realm where his people lived was on the verge of becoming completely desolate. Resources were scarce. At that moment, he didn’t even have a single shard of divine origin stone on him — everything had been left for the children within the clan who needed it more. Since entering the city, he had been sleeping on the streets.

“The people who truly have the right to contend for the Emperor’s Path come from prosperous and brilliant ancient stars. Those Thirteen Riders of the Primordial Wasteland, for example, come from a powerful ancient stellar domain.” Rui Wei said.

Ye Fan quietly sighed to himself, then gifted Rui Wei a jade cauldron filled with several hundred stalks of ancient medicines and a pile of divine origin stones.

“Let’s head over to that restaurant ahead and have a look — there seem to be a lot of people coming and going. There’s likely to be some fresh news.”

The two of them had barely stepped through the entrance of the great floating palace suspended in the sky when they caught wind of a piece of news: tomorrow, everyone would be entering the trial grounds. It was unquestionably a momentous event.

Inside the great palace, a young lord in brocade robes sat alone at a table, lightly fanning himself with a folding fan. No one dared approach him. He was said to hail from a powerful ancient stellar domain — a genius beyond compare, who had already attained sainthood.

On the other side sat a monk wearing a golden headband, his tangled hair bound within it. A birthmark ran across his face like a scar. Though he was a disciple of the Buddhist faith, his appearance was anything but gentle.

Ye Fan was momentarily startled. Outside of the Western Desert of the Northern Dipper, were there also powerful Buddhist sects in other stellar domains? Before long, he heard people murmuring around him — the monk hailed from an ancient stellar domain known as Amitabha.

Within the entire palace, eight or nine tables stood apart from the rest, with no one daring to draw near. These were the most powerful figures among the four hundred and thirty-seven trial participants.

Beyond them, naturally, there were many others — forming factions and alliances, those of like mind gathering together.

“Who is the assassin? I think most people have already figured it out — isn’t it obvious? It’s that man called Ye Fan. He claims he drove off an attacker — but it was clearly all a performance. He is the attacker.” Someone said in a sharp, cutting voice.

Ye Fan looked in that direction. Among those speaking, he spotted the middle-aged Daoist nun he had nearly come to blows with before.

“He’ll have it coming the moment we enter the trial grounds tomorrow. Ha…” Those gathered at that table wore nothing but hostile expressions.