The Feathered Immortal — youthful and radiant, her hair dancing in the wind, her slender waist barely enough to fill a hand, her figure tall and graceful, her skin like congealed jade, her face adorned with a sweet smile — drew the gaze of every powerful cultivator present.

She was speaking with Ou Ye Mo. “In Zone Fifty, I glimpsed a faint shadow refining an ancient weapon before the Drifting-Mist Cave. That must have been you, Brother Ou Ye, yes?”

Ou Ye Mo was a powerfully built man — both temples lightly dusted with grey, though he carried no sense of age, only a weathered depth that made him impossible to forget. He gave a single nod, saying nothing.

A refined-looking scholar in moon-white robes, folding fan in hand, sighed. “That demon halberd was truly extraordinary — heavy as a mountain range, enough to crush sacred bones and topple certain sacred graves. Is the material Dragon-Veined Black Gold?”

This clear-featured scholar called Luo Zhi was evidently a powerful cultivator himself — how else could he have entered the final zone and witnessed Ou Ye Mo’s weapon refinement?

Those who heard this all changed expression. The cultivators capable of entering the Central Forbidden Zone were naturally the very finest among those present, and the revelation that Ou Ye Mo possessed such a weapon made the air feel utterly oppressive.

“I saw someone cross ten zones at once. That would be you, Miss Feathered Immortal, yes?” Ou Ye Mo said.

This was a weathered man. The first time he had spoken, his voice carried a cool, magnetic quality that instantly made one feel he had lived through many stories.

“What? One person crossing ten zones alone — the Feathered Immortal looks delicate and slender. Is her physical body truly that powerful?”

Many were stunned. This beautiful girl, lovely as a woodland spirit, with her dazzling smile and radiant, youthful energy, was like a girl who had not yet grown up — and yet she was this formidable?

In an instant, everyone’s attention shifted from Ou Ye Mo’s weapon to this slender yet supremely powerful young woman. She was without question someone not to be underestimated.

Nearby, a more tense atmosphere was building. Several people claimed to have seen a demonic figure devouring the flesh and blood of living cultivators — someone present among the assembled powerhouses.

“Miss Mu, did you engage that individual in combat? I seemed to witness a tremendous battle erupt in Zone One,” a cultivator asked.

Many eyes turned toward one striking, cold and proud woman: Mu Guanghan.

She could not be called supremely beautiful, yet she possessed a quality that was transcendent and ethereal — as though she walked above the mortal dust, not of this world. Even standing within a crowd, she was the first one’s eyes would find.

Mu Guanghan frowned and did not reply. Her expression alone was enough to confirm that something of the sort had indeed occurred.

In the shadows, a number of gazes drifted toward the elegantly dressed young lord of the Human King Ancient Star Domain — for some had witnessed him cross zones, moving from Zone Five into Zone One.

An unspoken sense of tension settled over the crowd. Those involved had said nothing and taken no position, yet an invisible force seemed to be guiding everyone toward drawing their own conclusions.

“On the Greatest Ancient Trial Path, what matters is strength,” said the Bitter Ascetic of the Amitabha Ancient Star Domain.

“Indeed. In the end, a battle of the absolute will be required — yet even now, someone is secretly stoking discord among us,” another echoed in agreement.

Boom!

A surging torrent broke through. Thirteen mounts charged out, every one of them overflowing with blood energy — wild and ferocious as a tide. Their iron hooves struck the earth, causing this stretch of the cosmos to tremble.

The Heaven’s Desolation Thirteen Riders appeared. Every one of them was incredibly powerful — among the most formidable forces present. Even among their mounts alone, two or three were sacred beasts.

Their leader was, as always, silent and cold — never seen to speak first of his own accord. His upper body was bare, his bronzed skin pulsing with precious radiance. The aged wolf he sat upon kept its vital energy deeply restrained, radiating a quiet terror.

Beside him, the second-ranked figure wore armor of cyan-gold, his helmet and face covering concealing everything save a pair of eyes — eyes that radiated a pale blue light, carrying within them a terrifying demonic force.

The pale dragon beneath him let out a thunderous roar, releasing blood energy and sacred might simultaneously. The surrounding ancient beasts fell into chaos, some nearly crumpling to the ground.

Yet not a single cultivator uttered a word of rebuke. No one wanted to antagonize the riders of the Heaven’s Desolation Ancient Star Domain. One would have been tolerable, but thirteen — this was a pack of dragons and tigers.

“What a shame. Didn’t get to see him. Did he fall inside? Heh heh…” The twelfth rider among the Heaven’s Desolation Thirteen Riders smiled in a deeply unsettling way.

“If he managed to escape from twenty-three powerful cultivators, then he could be called a figure of note. The fear is that he has long since been reduced to rotting mud,” the thirteenth rider said with cold menace.

In truth, not only they were paying attention — the majority of those present were watching Zone Thirty-Six, all wishing to see the outcome: who would walk out alive.

The passageway trembled, as though a surging flood were crashing against it from within — a rumbling that shook the vast sky. A sharp and piercing killing intent spread outward.

Everyone understood. Those inside were about to emerge — those were the sounds of mounts galloping.

“It seems the one named Ye Fan has perished. A torrent like a wave of steel surging forward — that is the sound of a group of mounts. He has failed.”

That terrifying vibration — pressing in like a tidal wave — caused many to change expression, drawing them to the same conclusion.

“Zone Thirty-Six’s outcome is about to be revealed. But the Lord of Junwei Mountain from Zone Thirty-Seven still hasn’t appeared. Could it be that he crossed zones during the trial and will emerge from Zone Thirty-Six?”

“That would make sense — no one has yet been seen emerging from a different zone than their own.”

All eyes fixed on the exit ahead.

“How dull. He’s dead just like that — nothing special, in the end. And he dared to make an enemy of us? How laughable.” One of the Heaven’s Desolation Thirteen Riders shook his head with cold indifference.

Boom!

A streak of fire erupted forth. Then came surges of electromagnetic radiance. Long Ma’s hooves split the heavens as it charged out — a single mount bearing a wild, primordial aura, arriving like a thousand armies.

Everyone was shaken. In the end, only a single person appeared — completely unlike what they had imagined.

“It’s him — the one called Ye Fan. He’s the only one who came out alive!”

“The Daoist nun — and all those powerful cultivators — have they all fallen? Not a single one appeared!”

“Did he… slaughter every last one of them alone? This is what it has come to — unbelievable. He dismantled a terrifying killing formation all by himself.”

Astonishment spread across many faces. No one quite believed what they were seeing. Ye Fan appeared — alone with his mount — like a surging tide sweeping across the starry sky.

The twelfth rider of the Heaven’s Desolation Thirteen Riders immediately clamped his mouth shut. The killing intent in his eyes only deepened, as he fixed a cold, icy stare on that lone rider and his mount.

Every powerhouse present changed expression. At this moment, everyone could see it: this was a peer-level powerhouse of the absolute highest caliber — without question, a seeded figure.

This was an achievement of breathtaking brilliance — a true case of meeting the strong and slaying the strong. Facing so many opponents, he had cut his way out without so much as a scratch.

It made many hearts ring with alarm. They marked him as an extremely dangerous figure. Even the other seeded powerhouses looked on in silent attention.

“Very strong.” Even among the twenty soldiers present, someone exchanged a low murmur. The Grand Commander, mounted atop a Heavenly Wolf, gave a single nod and said nothing.

For on the Greatest Ancient Path, there was never any shortage of geniuses. Over so many years, they had borne witness to certain heaven-defying existences beyond all reckoning.

“Strange — why is there still no movement from Zone Thirty-Seven? No one has come out.”

People noticed the anomaly. It remained utterly quiet. The Lord of Junwei Mountain had still not appeared. Silence reigned.

Everyone’s heart gave a lurch. All eyes turned to Ye Fan — who remained composed, sitting upright on Long Ma’s back, gazing at the starry sky, paying none of this any attention.

“Could it be… could the Lord of Junwei Mountain have fallen inside?”

“This… he didn’t come out. By all accounts he was a powerful figure, highly regarded by many. And yet he couldn’t even pass the first human trial?”

At first, people remained relatively calm. But as time passed and still no one appeared, everyone understood. The Lord of Junwei Mountain would not be coming.

Many faces fell into shock. Could all of this truly be the work of the cultivator called Ye Fan? Had he crossed zones and cut down the Lord of Junwei Mountain as well?

Or had the Lord of Junwei Mountain gone to assist the middle-aged Daoist nun, crossing into Zone Thirty-Six, where Ye Fan then slew him?

The Grand Commander — one of the three elite warriors under the Crossing Guide — produced an iron plaque and flicked it skyward with a shake of his hand. A gentle, sacred radiance bloomed from it and spread to cover the entire Fallen Saint Island.

After some time, he retrieved the plaque and said, “All living participants have emerged. This trial is concluded.”

The matter was settled. The Lord of Junwei Mountain had fallen here, stirring considerable discussion. Strange looks were directed at Ye Fan.

Many felt he was simply too fierce — a single person had slain close to thirty individuals. And every one of those who walked the Ancient Path of Stars was no ordinary figure.

“Three hundred and sixty-three survivors. We set out.” The Grand Commander of the first human trial gave the word.

This round had centered on comprehending the Great Dao rather than a straight contest of strength. Furthermore, participants had intentionally scattered themselves across the forty-nine zones, limiting direct conflicts. And yet even so, over seventy people had perished — testament to the brutality of the trial path. This was only the beginning. If things continued at this rate, when the time came for the true battle among all powerhouses, few would likely survive. Many faces changed color at the thought.

“Seventy-some people perished in total — and that cultivator called Ye Fan alone killed twenty-eight powerful cultivators. This is genuinely terrifying!”

A crowd of eyes turned toward Ye Fan. He was a reticent killer — truly someone not to be provoked. Many marked him as a major threat and felt a measure of wariness, deciding not to come into conflict with him unless absolutely necessary.

Of course, not everyone was intimidated. The most powerful among them remained consistently calm. And the Heaven’s Desolation Thirteen Riders met him with cold indifference — the hostility of the thirteenth and twelfth riders was openly displayed, and a slaughter between them would come soon enough.

A sacrificial altar materialized in the void, its surface interlaced with various inscribed patterns. The three hundred-plus survivors mounted the ancient teleportation formation, and then a brilliant divine radiance erupted — they began to cross through the cosmos.

The first human stronghold was peaceful and bustling. Its streets were alive with people coming and going — prosperous and lively. Returning to it now, every person felt something different stirring within.

“Congratulations, all of you — you have taken the first successful step. In a few days’ time you will depart, embarking on the most magnificent journey ahead. Please cherish these final days in the First City of the Human Race.”

With these words of encouragement, the Grand Commander dismissed the assembled powerhouses.

“Brother Ye, I am so glad you made it back safely!” Rui Wei, from the small world of the Exhausted Celestial Domain, stepped forward with joy.

He had once wished to accompany Ye Fan and enter Zone Thirty-Six together to lend his aid — but had been refused. Now he came forward to offer his congratulations.

“This is only the beginning. Congratulating me is premature,” Ye Fan said with a smile.

“A good beginning is half the battle. Brother Ye, shall I treat you to a drink?” A pleasing voice drifted over. The Feathered Immortal glided gracefully forward — her face luminously fair, her smile sweet, her bright pearlescent teeth gleaming — altogether a sight to move a city.

On the other side, the Heaven’s Desolation Thirteen Riders closed in. One of them spoke: “Forgive the interruption, Feathered Immortal — but we need to borrow this person for a quarter-hour. Would that be acceptable?”

The Feathered Immortal smiled — her skirts floating, as if she were a water goddess standing upon a lake’s surface, indescribably fresh and lovely. “You shouldn’t be asking me. You ought to ask Brother Ye.”

“Let’s go, Brother Ye.” The twelfth rider of the Heaven’s Desolation Thirteen Riders stepped coldly forward with a tone that brooked no refusal.

Ye Fan glanced at them and said, “Apologies. I prefer the company of beautiful women. I have no interest in you.”