What year is it now? Amid the starry sky, one never knows the passage of the seasons. One presses ever forward, with only conquest and battle. Every ancient land has its own circumstances. A gust of wind passes, and withered yellow leaves drift down, bringing with them a sense of autumn’s desolation — a scene of melancholy.
Having set foot upon the ancient road of the starry sky, one battles all the way. How many heroes have fallen like withered leaves, toppling into pools of blood, their bones buried in distant lands?
In this ancient city steeped in the feeling of autumn, trial participants all rested in silence, recuperating, preparing for the battles to come — preparing to survive.
Ye Fan walked with firm steps. Having cultivated the “One Who Walks” word-formula, golden blood energy coiled about his entire body. He recovered rapidly to his peak state. The light gathered within his pupils transformed into something as deep as an abyss — deep and profound, yet also brilliant — a contradictory sight.
Evening came. The setting sun was like congealed blood, sketching the horizon as if ten thousand corpses lay stretched across it, filling the heart with an inexplicable sorrow.
Some cultivators walked through the mildly cold autumn wind. The trees lining both sides of the streets had long since turned yellow. Scattered leaves whirled through the air. The atmosphere was one of lingering gloom and melancholy.
Ye Fan stepped outside. His gaze was sharp and keen. His resolve was iron-hard. Every step he planted was firm and sure — his confidence unshaken, walking along the mottled ancient road.
He understood well that, after the baptism of the blood-soaked battlefield, some cultivators had grown deeply weary. Though they had clawed their way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, they had lost the will to compete and win.
Indeed, when he entered the most magnificent tavern in the city and climbed the stairs, he immediately heard some forlorn words being spoken.
“I have made up my mind. I am withdrawing from this, and I won’t look back once I return to my homeland. I am done with the delusion of achieving the great Dao.”
The one speaking these words was a bitter cultivator. In just a few months, he had gone from being in the prime of his life to looking incomparably weathered and haggard. His eyes were no longer sharp — they were somewhat dim, and faint streaks of white frost had tinged both his temples.
“Are you really… voluntarily withdrawing?” someone beside him asked, with the same taste of bitterness in their voice — clearly sharing the same feelings.
“I am leaving. There is no point in staying. Everyone who came from the same place as me is dead — only I am left. I can see no hope at all. Even my younger brother is gone…”
Many fell silent. A sour, aching feeling welled up in their hearts — this was their regret and sorrow. They had each been heroes of their respective domains, but ever since setting foot upon this road, they had lost all their former glory.
Once upon a time, each of them had stood at the pinnacle of their own domain, achieving success while young. Yet proud as they were, they had tasted defeat here and become stepping stones in the eyes of another wave of powerful fighters.
One despondent young man, when he had drunk himself into a stupor, suddenly broke down in great sobs. His emotions ran out of control and could not be checked. His face was wet with tears of unwillingness as he cried, “The pride I once had — the brilliance of being undefeated across an entire domain — counts for nothing here. It has been trampled upon mercilessly. Competing for supremacy on the Emperor’s Road — that is a battlefield for only a very few people. For us, it is far too cruel. We are nothing but pitiable passersby and dead men.”
His words, once spoken, drove many into silence. Thinking back on years past — their youthful vigor, their proud arrogance, the way they had roared across heaven and earth, swallowing ten thousand li with a single breath — and yet having set foot upon this road, so many of them had tasted bitterness.
“The one I loved dearly died before my eyes. She was so full of grief, and yet I was powerless to save her. All I could do was tremble as I lifted her from the pool of blood and watch as the light in her eyes faded, her body grew cold, and she lost the very last of her radiance.” Another person murmured, full of anguish, and said, “This place holds nothing but pain and wounds. I never want to think of it again. Tonight, I am leaving.”
In that tavern, more than a dozen people suddenly rose to their feet, stumbled their way down the stairs, and went to find the city’s commander — to set out on the road home and never return.
On that very night, one shadow after another, each carrying their own regret and pain and desolation, chose different coordinates in the starry sky and set off alone. The sight of their departing figures was bleak and forlorn.
When the autumn wind rose, a woman’s low singing drifted through the air.
“We are the grief in other people’s stories — like leaves that have fallen and withered, drifting with the wind, with no direction to find. On the Emperor’s Road, our footprints remain — yet not in any heaven, only that faint and mournful crimson, telling of blood’s sorrow. Horses tread across the starry sky, magnificent in form, dazzling in battle, shooting down the divine moon, shattering the myths of ten thousand ages, composing a glorious song of the Emperor’s Road, becoming an eternal masterpiece — but that is someone else’s glory. We wander, we are lost — where do we belong? We struggle, we search — on the Emperor’s Road, a pile of white bones annotates our desolation.”
The song was like weeping — mournful and sobbing — carried by the autumn wind, accompanied by falling leaves, scattered across the ancient city.
On that night, with one after another distant, forlorn figure fading away, this group of trial participants was reduced to fewer than a hundred.
A pile of bones on the Emperor’s Road — that was the fate of the majority. It was a cruel reality, and neither anguish nor unwillingness could change anything. There was no point in having any illusions, because these cultivators clearly understood that among this very group alone, dozens of people surpassed them — so what was there to speak of competing for supremacy on the Emperor’s Road in the future?
Of the ninety-some people who remained, some believed in their own potential. They felt their cultivation realm was simply insufficient for now, and that they could grow slowly, ultimately becoming a legend.
Others were only here to temper themselves, and not to achieve the great Dao. When they eventually became Saint-level sovereigns, they would return to their homelands.
People’s ambitions and aspirations differ from one another.
Some were downcast. Some showed their sharpness. Different temperaments, different fates. On that night, among those who chose to remain, some strummed their swords and sang loudly, the crisp ringing of blade-song shaking the heavens and earth, their fighting spirit burning with fervor for ten thousand li.
Ye Fan was calm. Having grown accustomed to life and death, having fought through blood since setting foot on the cultivator’s path to this very day — what was there left to be uncertain of? He had only a heart as hard as iron.
As for Long Ma — though it had sustained wounds, its mood was not poor at all, because in the battle not long before, it had, at a sub-Saint cultivation realm, come within a hair’s breadth of biting several sacred beasts to death.
When Ye Fan returned, this fellow was engaging in what could only be described as self-hypnotic boasting, muttering to itself that it was the greatest warrior in the world and that it would fight until it went berserk one day.
“How are you also washing your feet with the Source of the Dao?” Ye Fan was startled and stared blankly for a moment at the sight before him.
Long Ma said with great swagger, “Obviously — you already did it, so even if this stream of the Source of the Dao hasn’t been used by you, if I were to just integrate it without doing anything, wouldn’t that make me look inferior to you? How would I achieve the great Dao in the future, and how would I ride you back home?”
Ye Fan immediately felt the urge to give it a good thrashing. He truly did not understand how this creature always managed to maintain such a remarkably good attitude.
Morning came. Rays of morning light fell one after another — golden and radiant, brimming with vitality, painting the horizon in a sweep of brilliance, filled with the surging vigor of life.
On this glorious morning, every person was filled with a sense of tremendous power, and each became incomparably self-confident.
The gloom had passed. Those who remained were the truly strong, and it was at this very moment that Ye Fan learned of the news that they would soon be advancing into an ancient Primordial Dao Ground — a place of boundless power.
The Great Dao of nature, the Source of the Dao, the Boundless Dao of Power… By this point, people could not help but reflect in their minds that this was, as it seemed, a road of profound significance and deliberate design.
“Being in this city with morning light falling upon you, you can already feel the surging force. What kind of place will that Primordial Dao Ground be?”
As the morning sun rose in the east, many people held questions in their hearts. They sensed a wave of commotion along the main street, and then voices erupted in a great clamor.
“What is happening?”
Everyone was astonished. They came out onto the street and asked passersby, only to discover that most of the crowd — predominantly young people — were rushing off in a certain direction.
“What is going on? Why such a tremendous stir?”
“Do you not know? Someone has brought out a Divine-Light Ancient Platform and has returned from the forward sections of the ancient road. There’s a good chance we’ll hear some secrets from the battlefields up ahead.”
“Once a person sets foot upon the stellar road, they cannot reverse course and return to the rear sacred cities — unless they give up the trial road entirely and go straight back to their homeland.”
“Did I not just say? She used a Divine-Light Ancient Platform — that places her in a different category. She has not violated the city rules.”
Many people were talking as they headed toward the city’s grand plaza.
Ye Fan’s heart stirred. He consulted one of the natives to learn exactly what was going on. What was the Divine-Light Ancient Platform?
“It is a divine object comparable to the Five-Colored Sacrificial Altar. It can be carried on one’s person and allows passage between certain specific star domains, with the ability to travel back and forth without restriction.”
“How does one obtain such a thing?” Ye Fan’s heart quickened. He felt that this object had far too much practical value.
“Naturally, it requires outstanding performance on the ancient road and the establishment of world-shaking merit — such as discovering the tomb of an ancient great emperor, or accomplishing deeds of great benefit to the human race.”
Ye Fan was left speechless. He understood that the person who had made this return journey must have an extraordinary background — absolutely a terrifyingly gifted and remarkable powerful figure.
This was quickly confirmed. A woman known as Qing Shi had returned. Called the Banished Immortal Lady, she was extraordinarily powerful and formidable. In her generation of trial participants, she had been the uncontested first — and after catching up to the powerful fighters ahead, she had continued to hold her own among them.
Several years ago, while fighting in the heavens, she had actually punched through an entire trial ground and fought her way into a mysterious expanse of primordial chaos immortal earth. For this world-shaking merit, she was granted a Divine-Light Ancient Platform.
Any expanse of primordial chaos immortal earth possessed dreamlike value — the extraordinary natural treasures within were beyond counting. Rumor had it that she had obtained the single most valuable supreme treasure within.
No one had expected that she would return on this very day, making her way back to the sacred city that marked the starting stage of the human race. This was absolutely a woman whose presence could make countless heroes feel they could not breathe.
“That is indeed Qing Shi the Banished Immortal Lady — she has come to our city. She passed through here more than twenty years ago.”
“That is correct. I once had the good fortune to see the Banished Immortal Lady back in those days. It is truly her — and now she is even more ethereal and otherworldly than before, and utterly unfathomable!”
Many natives were discussing this, especially among the younger cultivators, who were particularly excited. This woman had left a deep impression upon them many years ago, and even now they had not forgotten her.
Quite a few people surged forward in that direction, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary Banished Immortal Lady.
“To think — more than twenty years have passed, and even Lady Ling’er, who accompanies the Banished Immortal Lady, has achieved Sainthood. She is truly beyond reach.”
“If one thinks about it, that is how it should be. Back then, Lady Ling’er was already only a hair’s breadth from Sainthood. With twenty-plus years of accumulation, it was only natural that she crossed that threshold.”
Many people believed that the return of the Banished Immortal Lady would place unimaginable pressure upon this current generation of trial participants. That generation of hers had been something very special — an extraordinarily terrifying and powerful assembly — and yet within it, Qing Shi had been revered as the first among them. Naturally, she possessed a god-like might to seize the creations of heaven and earth.
Even the Guide of the second sacred city was alarmed. He personally went to receive her, bringing the Banished Immortal Lady into the sealed land where he cultivated in seclusion — clearly regarding her with extraordinary importance.
Everyone was shocked, and their reverence for the Banished Immortal Lady grew even deeper. It was said that this woman possessed an extraordinary and world-surpassing grace — a peerless beauty of her era — and with cultivation that shook the entire ancient road of the starry sky, it was impossible not to attract attention.
“Her return like this poses too great a threat to this later generation of trial participants. It will likely cause some of them to lose their steadiness of mind. When faced with the brilliance of a bright moon, how many could remain calm?”
“The ancient road has its rules. Even if she has returned, she cannot make a move, and is even less permitted to enter the trial grounds.”
“Even so, merely sensing her divine might and matchless immortal bearing will be enough to cause many people to lose their confidence.”
Some of the elders within the city spoke in low tones, quietly discussing how they felt the Banished Immortal Lady’s return was somewhat improper — that it might affect the will to achieve the great Dao of this later generation of trial participants.