The Divine Race — a heaven-defying lineage representing invincibility and supreme power, an extremely rare and powerful bloodline from ancient times, truly existing in this world.

“Splitting off from the human race to establish their own lineage — how arrogant and self-important, yet they forgot their ancestors!” Pang Bo said indignantly.

This matter was too far in the past, and discussing it now held little meaning — at the very least, in the eyes of other races, the Divine Race was stronger and nobler, with no connection to the human race.

The human race had a long and ancient history, its true origin unknown. Whether in the Big Dipper or the Ziwei ancient star region, it was said both were homelands developed by humanity’s distant ancestors traveling far and opening new territory.

Where the human race’s life-origin planet truly lay, and what had become of it now, remained unknown — some clues and secrets had gradually vanished in the long river of time.

The member of the Divine Race in the stone coffin gasped heavily, the light on his body growing even more intense. His expression turned agitated as he forced himself to speak, arguing: “The Divine Race… the most dazzling race… has nothing to do with the human race!”

He was nearly at the point of passing into stillness, his body incredibly weak, yet at this moment he grew so agitated, exhausting all his strength to shout this out — his body convulsed, and it looked like he was about to expire.

The small golden figure within Ye Fan’s brow bone stepped forward, about to enter this member of the Divine Race’s sea of consciousness to observe and learn more detailed information.

However, this Divine Race member’s forehead rapidly began to crack, the light growing intense — he was about to transcend, on the verge of shattering.

Clearly, he was fiercely resolute — he would rather immediately pass into transcendence than let others touch his race’s core secrets. And this mark left by a powerful member of the race had now been activated, guarding the immortal platform, refusing to let outsiders touch their secrets, otherwise self-destructing.

“We tried before — he’d rather immediately transcend than let us observe.” Long Ma explained.

The golden figure retreated back into Ye Fan’s immortal platform. He suddenly opened his eyes, shooting out two sharp beams of light, circulating the Zhe Character Secret Art to heal this Divine Race member’s wounds again, restoring his origin energy.

“I don’t wish to learn about the Divine Race, nor do I wish to become your enemy — just tell me Yao Guang’s whereabouts, and I won’t touch anything else.”

Upon hearing this name, this Divine Race member immediately gritted his teeth, his full head of white hair rising without wind, wildly dancing about, his expression terrifying, filled with hatred.

Yao Guang had left four years ago — he had been harmed more than four years prior. At that time, they had both been saints, but Yao Guang’s origin had shocked even this proud and arrogant member of the Divine Race, terror beyond measure.

“When he doesn’t reveal himself, wearing his divine ring, he’s like the reincarnation of the Sun God, able to match my Divine Race’s temperament. But the moment he strikes, he becomes a demon god, as if he’s a completely different person.”

Recalling the events of that year filled him with great hatred — his body couldn’t help but tense even now recalling it, as if facing that great enemy again.

Ye Fan and Pang Bo exchanged a glance. Over all these years, Yao Guang had kept a low profile, and there was truly no telling how many powerful physiques’ origins he had devoured.

Now, this one Divine Race member alone was enough to make others wary — it would certainly let Yao Guang grow much stronger, his power rising by a large margin.

“The Ruthless Great Emperor really is too terrifying, actually creating such a heavenly technique — it’s truly heaven-defying.” the Black Bear Saint and the others couldn’t help but exclaim in admiration.

“I’ve already seen a great enemy rising — there will surely be a battle in the future. The Divine Race is his target, and neither the Heavenly Overlord Blood nor we ourselves are exempt from being his prey.” Pang Bo said in a deep voice.

Long Ma, normally fierce and unruly, fearing neither heaven nor earth, now also showed a trace of worry, his heart heavy — there might be a life-and-death battle to come.

The Scorpion, the Golden Lion, the Black Bear Saint and the others all felt a shadow rise in their hearts — this heavenly technique was too heaven-defying, and it would only grow stronger the more origins it devoured, each power gained elevating it another level.

On this ancient starry road, there were talents gathered from every major star region — for Yao Guang, this was simply a path to immortality beyond his wildest dreams!

Every powerful being he encountered was a great pill furnace to him. Continuing this way, fighting his way through in blood, he would grow like a snowball rolling downhill, becoming ever more terrifying, eventually becoming supreme.

“No matter how strong, can he compare to the Ruthless One? He’s nothing but an imitator!” Ye Fan said, his gaze clear and bright, his bearing confident, saying: “We’ll wait for him to appear — if he fights, we’ll kill him!”

This was an invincible conviction, a bearing beyond compare, deeply moving the twelve saints — the shadow in their hearts swept away entirely, none of them worried any longer.

This wasn’t carelessness, nor underestimating the enemy, but a conviction — possessing an invincible heart, fearless of all hardship and tribulation, transcending it all, spirit and body ascending to their peak state!

Yao Guang was naturally terrifying, able to devour others’ origins to strengthen himself, while also possessing the Undying Heavenly Technique created by the Ruthless One’s second incarnation — a scripture never before manifested in this world, destined to shake through the ages.

This member of the Divine Race lay in the stone coffin, hair completely white. Pang Bo asked his age — under normal circumstances, his true appearance shouldn’t be aged like this.

“Calculated by a cultivator’s lifespan, I… am still very young, only just over a hundred years old.” He was filled with resentment and regret.

This was a proud member of the Divine Race, having gone out to temper himself, specifically seeking out ancient planets suppressed by the Great Dao to hone himself, arriving on this life-bearing planet almost simultaneously with Yao Guang — the two had clashed.

“Is Yao Guang’s heart really so merciful, that he’d spare your life?” Pang Bo knew that man — he didn’t act unless he acted, and when he did, it was always thunderous, a single killing blow.

“He was startled off by a senior.” This Divine Race member said dejectedly. Though his life had been spared, it was merely clinging on — his life could basically be considered over.

“This ancient star has other powerful cultivators?” Long Ma didn’t believe it — this star wasn’t large, just a minor planet unsuited to cultivation. Since their arrival, they’d never sensed any supremely powerful being.

“Yes, he only gave a single soft shout, like a great bell tolling, that shook people’s souls nearly to scattering.” This Divine Race member muttered in a daze, growing ever weaker.

“What did he look like?” Ye Fan asked.

“He looked very ordinary, holding a wood-chopping blade…” Before this Divine Race member finished speaking, Ye Fan’s expression immediately changed, turning back to look toward that village — the old man’s trace nowhere to be found, already gone.

Ye Fan transformed into a bolt of lightning, tearing through the void, instantly appearing at the village entrance — the mountain-like pile of firewood was gone, the old man’s trace lost, everything otherwise peaceful as before.

“What’s wrong?” Pang Bo and the others caught up, looking at him in confusion.

“Before you all arrived, I saw an old man chopping wood here.” Ye Fan said.

Beyond the fields, several black oxen grazed on grass, a shepherd boy played his flute, at ease and carefree. By the river, several women washed clothes, bursts of laughter drifting over. In the fields, farmers labored…

Everything was peaceful and quiet, nothing changed, only the wood-chopping old man was missing.

Ye Fan asked around, but everyone shook their heads — the village had never had such a person, no one had ever seen him.

He felt as if he’d truly seen a ghost — just moments ago he’d been conversing with that old man, how could he vanish in the blink of an eye, as if it had been an illusion.

“Young man, are you certain you really saw such an elder?” The oldest man in the village, puffing on his dry tobacco pipe, walked over, looking at him with some suspicion.

“Indeed I did, elder, do you have any guidance?” Ye Fan was very polite, not displaying his supernatural powers before mortals, maintaining proper courtesy.

“The person you speak of — I have seen him.” the old man said.

“He… where is he?” Ye Fan pressed.

“This isn’t a living person.” The old man looked at him with even more suspicion, the meaning clear — this person couldn’t possibly appear at the village entrance.

Ye Fan was stunned, and Pang Bo, Long Ma and the others were also dumbfounded — this didn’t seem to make sense, had they seen a ghost in broad daylight?

“The person you speak of is merely a carved image on the stone wall, on the western mountain.” The old man pointed forward with his cane, toward where the sun was setting, not too far from here.

They left the village, and by the time they returned, this member of the Divine Race had already ceased all vital signs, finally having passed into transcendence — the light on his body dimmed, becoming a cold corpse.

Long Ma and the others performed a great technique, sending him back to that ancient cave dwelling, sealing him within — a form of burial.

The mountain west of the village wasn’t very far, not very tall, and certainly not majestic, overgrown with weeds and brambles, nothing remarkable about it.

Halfway up the mountain, there was a stretch of stone wall, carved with ancient images, the marks blurred by countless unknown years, covered in moss.

Ye Fan carefully cleaned it and observed closely, his expression changing dramatically, hardly able to believe what he saw.

“The person from the stone carving?” Pang Bo asked nervously.

Ye Fan nodded — this defied common sense, seeming utterly inconceivable. The elder who had spoken with him was actually on the stone wall, the years having blurred and mottled the image — at the very least these carving marks were tens of thousands of years old.

What was going on here? Just an image, yet able to manifest itself, making one feel as if it were truly present — what depth of cultivation would this require?

“This doesn’t make sense, what kind of star is this, just an ancient stone carving, how many tens of thousands of years has it been, how could it manifest a real person?” Pang Bo groped at it with his hand.

There wasn’t just one image, but eight or nine connected ones — a wood-chopping image, a horse-feeding image, very simple and plain, at first glance unrelated to cultivation. Yet, given what had just happened, how could Ye Fan overlook this — there was absolutely an extraordinary secret hidden here.

Just what kind of existence was that wood-chopping elder, that he could still manifest after all these tens of thousands of years.

Starting from the fifth image, things began to turn unusual, somewhat special — the elder sat atop a true dragon, ascending to the heavens.

“What does this mean?” Pang Bo asked, puzzled.

Clearing away the moss, the sixth carved image became faintly visible — it was actually an ancient coffin, the Nine-Layered Coffin from the mythical age!

Ye Fan’s heart stirred, a flash of light in his palm as he produced a palm-length stone coffin — though small, it carried an aura of eternal desolation spanning countless ages.

Back at the Zhongzhou Ancestral Temple, Ye Fan’s group had discovered this stone coffin on an ancient altar. Duan De had speculated it was the supreme coffin from the mythical age, buried above the nine heavens.

Qi Luo had once asked him to cast it out into the starry expanse, fearing future disaster, but Ye Fan had kept it with him all along, never discarding it. Now he took it out to compare against this stone carving.

Just then, wisps of light patterns suddenly emerged from the stone wall, spreading outward like ripples on water.

“This…” Several of them froze, utterly shocked.

The supreme Nine-Layered Coffin from the mythical age above the nine heavens was actually reacting with this ancient image on the stone wall — this was truly astonishing!

After a moment, everything calmed down, the anomaly vanishing, the place returning to stillness.

They cleared away the moss and carefully examined the seventh ancient image, even more mysterious — it turned out to be a blade. Though blurred, the moment they gazed upon it, a sense of world-ending killing intent was revealed!

“Pfft”

Pang Bo spat out a mouthful of blood, his face pale, staggering backward. Long Ma’s brow even cracked open, retreating seven or eight steps.

“Don’t focus your spirit on this blade.” Ye Fan was shaken. He had recognized it with just a glance, his heart pounding violently — it belonged to the Undying Heavenly Emperor!

When he had undergone his tribulation, the Undying Heavenly Emperor’s true form had appeared in the final moment, that blazing blade automatically unsheathing itself, slashing down — more terrifying than anything, nearly splitting his cauldron apart.

“You’re certain this is a carved image of the Undying Heavenly Blade?!” Pang Bo and the others were stunned — just a stone carving alone could injure people, just how powerful must this blade be?

What shocked them most was that below the blade was a blurry stone-shelled egg, all the wisps of aura falling from the blade being absorbed by it.

“What does this mean, is this where the Undying Heavenly Blade is buried?” Long Ma was shocked, unable to comprehend.

“Quick, look at the eighth image, it’s actually… Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin!” Pang Bo exclaimed, filled with shock.