BOOM, BOOM——!

The sounds grew ever more powerful—like a mighty heart beating, or like the divine drums of the ancient Celestial Court reverberating again after being sealed away for ten thousand ages.

Cultivators of lesser power went pale. Under that rhythm, their hearts were on the verge of exploding. One by one they clutched their chests, stumbling backward in retreat.

The stone figures Lunduo and Mopu both changed color in turn. A feeling of unease crept into their hearts. This was a dry well from before the most ancient times—how could there be a living thing within it after ten thousand ages? The thought was enough to make one’s hair stand on end; it was simply beyond comprehension.

What manner of ancient creature was this? How had it endured this long? It had shattered all common reason entirely—like an undying myth.

“Indeed—this well has always belonged to the Age of Mythology. That such an immortal miracle could exist within it is not entirely without reason.” Someone said in a trembling voice.

“Nonsense. No one could survive so many ages. Even a Great Emperor of antiquity lived no more than ten or twenty thousand years.” Someone else countered.

The rhythm of the human race’s advance slowed. This place had become far too uncanny; both legs went weak, and a pervasive feeling of ill omen hung over everything.

The Holy Spirit clan too found itself at an impasse. To guard the well or not to guard it—either path was untenable. What was happening was too outlandish for any framework to contain.

“Hold the line!” Mist swirled around the dry well—condensed from roaring flame. Within the flame-mist, a terrifying Holy Spirit was seated cross-legged. It issued that order with cold dispassion.

Hearing it, Lunduo’s eyes blazed with intensity. Once again it struck without mercy, sending the surrounding human race cultivators and ancient beasts flying apart in blood and flesh—all forced to fall back. None could withstand its assault.

A stone figure at the peak of Sacred Saint King—in this place, it was genuinely without rival below the Great Sage level. Even the lowest tier of Great Sage might find itself outmatched and cut down in return. For this was a Holy Spirit!

“To think that our Holy Spirit Clan must cultivate for millions of years to achieve our Dao body—and once we emerge into the world, we are no longer sustained by heaven and earth, and like the human race, our lives grow short and we gradually age. What manner of existence is this? How could it endure so many ages without dying?”

The Holy Spirit Mopu murmured under its breath, a shadow of dread spreading through its heart. Were it not for the fire clan elder Holy Spirit sitting on the ground issuing such orders, it truly had no desire to guard this ancient well. Heaven only knew what might crawl out of it.

“You may all rest easy. This well has a deep and profound connection to our Holy Spirit Clan. If there is a sacred object within, it would be an arrangement laid down in advance by one of our ancient forebears.” The elder Holy Spirit within the leaping flame spoke with cold indifference.

“Kill—anyone who dares approach is to be killed without mercy. Use the blood of the human race and these ancient beasts, pour it into the dry well, and invite forth the ancestral implement of our clan!”

Lunduo and Mopu issued the command, directing the many powerhouses in a sweep across the nearby cultivators—seizing their blood and offering it to the ancient well. In an instant, this place had become a field of slaughter and carnage.

The Reception Envoy of the Tenth City of the Human Race led a great force of powerhouses charging forward. The Tyrant Dragon Queen Tuolan also gathered the ancient beasts to mount a fierce offensive. They understood: the ancestral implement of the Holy Spirit Clan could not be allowed to emerge into the world—if it did, this entire stellar domain would crumble.

The ancient warnings were believed absolutely, passed down from their forebears: everything had to be stopped.

Both sides clashed—fierce and intense. Blood sprayed, pouring endlessly toward the ancient well. The Reception Envoy and Tuolan discovered to their despair that there was no retreating and no advancing.

Great Moon Slope shook with the din of battle; the Divine Ghost Burial Ground was awash in a storm of blood!

Ye Fan re-entered Great Moon Slope, but could change nothing. There were too many powerful experts, and without a Great Sage holding the line, no one could deal with that supreme being seated at the ancient well—the fire Holy Spirit.

From sky to earth, body after body rained down. Blood showered in cascades. This was the vision of a coming doomsday—a march toward total annihilation.

“Ahhh——!” “Kill!”

Cries of agony and roars of battle rang out in turn, shaking heaven and earth. Across the battlefield, blood flowed in rivers and bones carpeted the field.

The sight was terrifying—like a battle of gods and demons. Corpses fell one after another, pounding Great Moon Slope and causing it to shake.

Ye Fan was bathed in blood, advancing through a sea of the fallen, fighting without end. He knew he could not kill the elder Holy Spirit—but still he did everything in his power to obstruct and disrupt, preventing the demonic well from being opened.

In that moment, even his hair had been soaked through to red by the blood—matted in clumps and strands, clinging together. His battle robes were drenched; every inch of them was blood.

BOOM!

Suddenly heaven and earth shook. The vault of the sky cracked open. A suffocating pressure appeared—a Great Sage had fought his way to this place. The Cyan Phoenix Daoist tumbled through the air, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, plummeting from the void.

“Human race—you cannot stop the advance of the Holy Spirits!” An imposing voice rang out. A colossal stone figure loomed in the vault of the sky, like a god of heaven looking down upon all below.

The terrifying tide of blood flowing through its body sounded like thunder, making many people’s ears ring and their legs unsteady.

This was an invincible Holy Spirit—at minimum within this stellar domain, it had no rival. Even the Cyan Phoenix Daoist had now been defeated, his face pale as ash, staggering backward for who knew how many miles before coming to a halt in midair.

“The human race’s Path Guardian——has been defeated!” “Even the Cyan Phoenix Daoist cannot withstand a Holy Spirit—what are we to do?”

Every human race cultivator fell into despair. How supremely powerful the Cyan Phoenix Daoist was—breathtaking across all ages, the supreme existence among this stretch of the ancient starry road’s stellar domain—yet even he could not match a Holy Spirit.

“Human race—you are many in number, but you are all sheep. How can you compare with my clan? One of us is enough to kill your hundreds of millions!” Mopu bellowed from below.

Those words were like a dagger driven into the hearts of many, and yet in this moment there was no way to refute them. No one could step forward to resist the invincible Holy Spirit named Aomang standing in the sky above.

“Human race—dare to obstruct, and every last one of you will be killed!” The Holy Spirit in the heights—named Aomang—spoke with cold dispassion.

The Cyan Phoenix Daoist wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and did not retreat. Step by step, he ascended back toward the heavens, holding his war-spear, moving once again toward the Holy Spirit Aomang.

“Human race—you are inadequate. Defeat is defeat. No one can contend with my Holy Spirit Clan. In the same realm, you are all lambs waiting to be slaughtered!” Mopu laughed coldly from below. “Even with hundreds of millions of you—you cannot find a single one capable of matching my forefather Aomang’s strength. Every last one of you is an insect—hundreds of millions of insects!”

Mopu’s words were like steel needles driven into everyone’s hearts—painful and helpless. The Holy Spirits were truly too powerful; same-realm rivals were almost impossible to find.

“Maddening—the human race’s next generation, those possessing supreme and rare physiques, have not yet grown to the Great Sage realm. Otherwise, would you dare to be so arrogant? We would kill every last one of you without exception!” The Reception Envoy of the Tenth City of the Human Race said through teeth clenched in fury.

“The human race’s next generation—leave those to me. Rest assured, I will erase every last one of those so-called peerless talents of your generation. I will go and break through your next section of the ancient road as well!” Mopu said in an icy tone.

He was revered as Young Master—his power standing at the middle tier of Sacred Saint King. Within this realm, he was supremely mighty and had never tasted defeat.

“Your arrogance knows no bounds!” Fury blazed through the crowd; they seethed with it, every one of them wishing they could step forward and cut him down this very moment—in a same-realm confrontation, slay him publicly before all eyes.

Footsteps sounded from above. The Cyan Phoenix Daoist—white hair unbound, back bent under the weight of his years—held a damaged war-spear and was once again moving to fight the Holy Spirit alone. His silhouette—solitary, weary, and desolate.

“Useless—the human race is no match for my Holy Spirit Clan!” The stone figure Mopu said. Standing before the ancient well, gazing up at the battle overhead, each word he spoke made many clench their fists—yet there was no refuting it. No one could step forward. No one could stand against that peerless Holy Spirit named Aomang in the sky above.

A cry of surprise rang out—everyone was taken aback. They saw a young man rise into the air, flying toward the Cyan Phoenix Daoist.

Ye Fan covertly transmitted his voice, asking to send the green copper cauldron to the old Daoist as a weapon.

“It’s you—still alive!” Below, Mopu and Lunduo both started—and then both of their faces twisted with furious rage. Together they shouted: “You have killed yet another of our clan—Wugu is dead?!”

Everyone was shaken. This person called Ye Fan had slain more than one Holy Spirit? Whether human race, ancient beast, or foreign race from beyond the domain—all of them were utterly stunned.

From the distance—at the outer perimeter of Great Moon Slope—Mu Guanghan, Yu Xian, Kutou’an, and others were also on the battlefield, and all of them changed expression, unable to resist turning to look in this direction.

And many of the human race’s trialists simply stood with their mouths hanging open. This person was too ferocious!

“This is the… Sacred Physique… from the Burial Emperor Star.” Someone said in a hushed voice.

In that instant, everyone was struck dumb, their hearts overwhelmed with awe.

The battle record was too astounding—to be capable of slaying Holy Spirits—truly world-shaking. In this moment, the name Ye Fan was branded irremovably into people’s memory.

Yet many could not understand why he was flying upward. No matter how powerful he was, it was impossible for him to contend with a Great Sage-level Holy Spirit—going up there like this was nearly certain death.

At that moment, Ye Fan was growing anxious. The Cyan Phoenix Daoist seemed not to have received his transmission—he had not stopped. The old Daoist dragged his weary body, holding a damaged war-spear, heading alone to face the Holy Spirit.

“The human race never gives up—do you think that perseverance alone can win the battle? I acknowledge: you are one of the rare astounding ones across the ages. But you are not my match. If you do not stop now, I am prepared to pay a certain price to ensure you suffer the annihilation of both body and soul.” Aomang said coldly.

His words were laced through with killing intent, like a cold wind howling past. Every cultivator across Great Moon Slope felt it from head to foot. They watched the Cyan Phoenix Daoist’s retreating figure, and sorrow filled their eyes.

“If only I were five hundred years younger—I would not have been defeated.” The Cyan Phoenix Daoist sighed softly.

Those words—and many hearts went sour.

This had once been an invincible existence. Yet now, in his twilight years, blood and energy had long since declined. The blazing grandeur of former days was gone; he was no longer what he once was—his body no longer as it had been in his prime.

“Shifu’s Shifu!” The Reception Envoy of the Tenth City of the Human Race could not hold back his tears.

Everyone was filled with grief and fury. What a breathtaking and brilliant figure the Cyan Phoenix Daoist had been in his day—yet old age was inescapable. He was headed for a great defeat today, and perhaps his blood would stain the heavens. The sorrow of a fading hero—this was how it ended, and it made the heart seize with anguish.

Ye Fan could not catch up in time. His heart clenched with urgency. The Cyan Phoenix Daoist had not stopped—and he did not want to send the green copper cauldron across directly, for fear it might be seized by the Holy Spirit Aomang.

The stone figure Mopu smiled coldly. “What do you mean by ‘five hundred years younger’? Inadequate is inadequate! The cruel truth will make you understand: the gap is the gap. The human race is inferior to the Holy Spirits! If you are unconvinced—step forward, any of you with surging blood energy, and I will kill them on the spot, grinding them to blood and mud beneath my feet!”

Everyone was enraged—blood rushing, surging—wishing they could face him this instant, cut him down before all eyes in a same-realm battle.

BOOM!

Suddenly heaven and earth split asunder. A blood energy vast as an ocean swept downward from above; a towering silhouette tore through the void and came bursting out.

This figure was powerfully built, hair loose and wild, radiating a terrifying and world-shaking resonance. Fingers pressed together like a blade, they slashed toward the stone figure Mopu—too fast for anyone to react.

“Ahhh——!”

Mopu cried out. A stream of clear energy flew from the top of his head—part of his Dao cultivation had been severed away, and he plummeted from the invincible realm of Sacred Saint King all the way down to the Saint realm.

When Ye Fan laid eyes on this person, tears streamed from his eyes, and he cried out with overwhelming emotion—this person, to whom he owed such a profound debt, was still alive.

BOOM!

Heaven fell and earth collapsed. The towering figure in the sky swung the Six Paths of Reincarnation Fist—breath swallowing ten thousand miles, aiming directly at the invincible Holy Spirit Aomang in the sky above. Advancing without hesitation—I am invincible!

“Ahhh——!” Below, Mopu cried out in near-madness—someone had actually severed an entire great realm from him.

“Now, I am going to make you understand—a Holy Spirit of the same realm counts for nothing!” Ye Fan pounced forward to kill. He understood what the towering figure in the sky above had meant: let him—also in the Saint realm—face Mopu in battle!