A great age had arrived. Heroes stood side by side across the world. Ye Fan had witnessed the rise of yet another generation — yet beneath the crest of the waves, there was not only heroic valor and grandeur. There were also tears and blood, and white bones.

In the end, how many would remain? No one could say. This was a brilliant and glorious road — and it was also a lonely and desolate road.

The splendor of an age when kings contend for supremacy; the cold solitude of one standing alone at the absolute pinnacle, with countless fallen beneath their feet.

With kings rising on all sides and prodigies standing in the world, this era was destined to produce one blazing collision after another — sending forth a radiance that would illuminate ten thousand ages, forever carved into the annals of cultivation history.

That day was not far off. It had already taken root in the hearts of cultivators, spreading outward along every ancient path. One could already hear the desolate yet magnificent horn call sounding, summoning the foremost warriors of every clan.

The starry sky has no beginning and no end, no time and no era. How many throughout history have been able to describe it clearly? Ye Fan and the others set out — and in the blink of an eye, twenty years had passed.

During this journey, they advanced layer by layer, progressing steadily toward the human race’s final pass.

There were a hundred and eight passes in total, but many stretches of the road ahead were broken and had to be constructed by travelers themselves — even requiring them to establish Five-Colored Altars and search for the next life-bearing star domain.

Evidently, this too was a test for those who traveled the road.

The star path had existed for boundless ages, and many segments had long since collapsed. In name there were a hundred and eight passes, but in reality, apart from the initial few dozen passes and the particularly formidable ones — the sixty-fourth, the seventy-second, the eighty-first — the greater portion of the road beyond was desolate and broken.

Ye Fan and the others sought the Dao from within their hearts, advancing through bitter cultivation as they went. They did not leap ahead but proceeded step by step, for without knowing the next pass on this path, there was simply no way to determine where the final destination lay.

The ancient road was crumbling. As they traveled further, no living souls could be seen, no life encountered. They entered a vast and desolate dead star domain where nothing whatsoever could be sensed.

This was a road of heart-seeking — asking those who came after to reconnect the broken path, to repair the human race’s altars that had originally stood along the way, so that the ancient road might flow unobstructed. The difficulties here were immense.

In some places where all life had been extinguished, there were vast seas of white bones, and Five-Colored Altars had been built upon them. As for any cities, they had long since crumbled, reduced to rubble, suspended in the frozen cosmos.

And this was only one corner of what they saw — a bleak fragment glimpsed along the way.

The years had passed and ground away so much, effacing so many things — those glories, those old memories had all scattered with the wind. Now only the dust of history remained.

Perhaps when the next cycle came and the ancient road opened again, even this would no longer exist.

A road of heart-seeking, a search for the immortal Dao — Ye Fan and the others did not advance quickly along this stretch of the journey. They sought ancient traces, repaired broken paths, and contemplated their own Dharma and Dao.

This was a process of bitter cultivation, and also an experience of seeking the heart and questioning the Dao — truly pointing directly at the source of the heart, asking oneself repeatedly: how do I continue forward? Strip away all distracting thoughts.

Twenty years passed like this. For everyone, this was a tempering of the heart’s road — an unconventional form of cultivation. They contended not against others, but against their own hearts.

They had experienced too much, Ye Fan especially. He had contemplated the Dharma, comprehended the Dao, and fought in bloody battle against the assembled heroes. Now, advancing slowly through bitter practice was a form of settling, and also a form of elevation.

To fight every enemy to exhaustion, to survey all the ways of the world — he needed a period of stillness. Like one who has experienced the splendor of a prosperous age and feels weary to the bone — longing to step into the countryside, to look back and find awakening.

Twenty years on the road!

The group advanced in silence, quietly awakening alone — shedding all the extravagance, returning to simplicity, unadorned and plain, quiet and unpretentious.

After twenty years, as they neared the human race’s final pass, they gradually began to encounter living beings. A few bloody battles took place along the way against the most formidably powerful creatures of the cosmos.

A pride of tigers that had lain dormant for twenty years burst from their cage like a great flood. From the very first moment they struck out, they shook the star domain, announcing to the world: they had returned.

When the news spread and reached the human race’s final pass, it caused a sensation. Heroes from all directions paid close attention, and discussion erupted into a clamor.

The Holy Physique of the human race had finally come. Long had people stood on tiptoe waiting for this. In this generation’s ancient path, he was not the first to arrive — but he was undoubtedly the most captivating.

In the star domain, there was a stepped pathway paved with bluestone slabs, extending straight ahead. Beneath the brilliant star river, it seemed out of place and yet mysterious.

Out here in the cosmos, such an ancient and simple stone-paved path existed — it was strange beyond words, yet no one dared dismiss it lightly. Walking upon it, one felt a reverent, pilgrim’s state of mind.

Without quite knowing when it had begun, waves of divine chanting rose along the ancient bluestone path, resonant and deafening — like scriptures ringing on their own, like an ancient god expounding the Dao — enlightening the mind, awakening the self.

Ahead, the starlight streamed like water, brilliant and luminous, accompanied by a mysterious, hazy mist. It was like arriving at an immortal city.

“We’re here — is this the human race’s final city? What will happen once we enter?” Pang Bo’s frame was powerfully built, standing a full zhang in height, like half a tower of ancient bronze. Treasure light flowed across his entire body, and his eyes were keen and bright.

“The final pass — could we encounter some sudden change?” Ji Ziyue’s large eyes sparkled with spirit as she gazed ahead.

In the battle at the Farther Shore, they had concealed themselves well. When they activated the Green Copper Cauldron, they had not revealed their identities. When the Heaven-Defying Formation Runes shattered, the divine energy from the Holy Prince’s War Staff had descended to cut off the outside world.

So many years had passed, and they had never heard anyone speak of it — as though that battle had nothing to do with them. But there were no absolutes in this world. Moreover, the Heaven Emperor, the Nine-Eyed Jade Toad, and the Great Demon God had once noticed certain signs. Caution was necessary — yet they felt no fear. Ye Fan had now reached this level, and with a damaged Green Copper Cauldron in his control, was he supposed to fear people coming to start a great slaughter? At worst, there would be a fight, and even if someone extraordinarily powerful came, he did not necessarily have to suffer greatly.

At the very least, he could simply leave.

Immortal energy steamed upward and the star river stretched in ten thousand streams. The entire ancient city was imposing and magnificent, far surpassing any they had seen before — it was the final pass.

It appeared to be forged of black metal, gleaming with a cold luster. Faintly, a layer of dark red radiance also surfaced — like scattered points of blood-light. According to legend, this was the holy blood shed in ancient battles, when generation after generation of powerful warriors fell in combat — there was even the blood of near-Emperors among it.

Naturally, it had long since dried up and its essence had dissipated. Otherwise, this city would be so saturated with killing intent that none could approach.

The massive gatehouse tower rose several hundred zhang in height — tall enough that even ancient giants could pass through freely, overwhelming and mighty, radiating a commanding pressure that gripped the heart.

This was a pair of great gates forged from star river divine sands blended with various divine irons. Their color differed from the rest of the city, flowing with dream-like, brilliant light — a sight to inspire awe. For these were the most treasured divine materials used by sages to forge weapons and yet they had become the mere material for a gate, which spoke to the extraordinary rarity of the final city.

The bluestone path extended through the star domain all the way here, running straight to the gate. Ye Fan and the others encountered no obstruction, no inspection. Who would dare cause trouble here?

The human race’s final pass — unless a dark age war descended, this place would not face any threat whatsoever. For it was said that this colossal city was itself a supreme treasure! Let alone ordinary cultivators — even a Great Sage who entered and then had the city gates closed and the heavens sealed would find it nearly impossible to escape, as though trapped in a cage.

Inside the city, people moved in a constant stream, shoulder to shoulder and heel to toe. The moment Ye Fan and the others entered, the entire street went quiet — impossible to say how many gazes turned toward them simultaneously.

A few breaths later, a clamor erupted.

“Is this the group? Is that the Holy Physique among them?”

Their arrival drew the crowd’s attention. Countless gazes converged on them as people talked among themselves.

This was a reputation forged through battle. Even before Ye Fan reached the final pass, he had already engaged prodigies from other ancient paths in combat, slaying the foremost warriors from dozens of ancient paths — killing until no one dared claim supremacy. It had been a tremendous sensation.

There were elders, middle-aged warriors, and young women — all standing in the road, watching this direction, murmuring. This group was now absolutely the most captivating focal point of the entire human race ancient path.

“It seems they will represent our human race’s ancient path in the competition — contending for the title of the foremost divine position under the stars.”

“Where are the Human King, the Azure Poetry Immortal, the Tyrant King, the Heaven Emperor, the Great Demon God — will they appear?”

“Who knows whether this generation of the human race will extend its great glory.”

Long Ma was full of swagger, casting its gaze imperiously across all four directions. Its four hooves struck the bluestone floor, trailing sparks, a powerful and imposing sight.

Then the Ancient Golden Roc, without any face-saving at all, shrank to a little over a foot in length and dropped directly onto its back — hawk-eyed and wolf-watchful, its pair of golden pupils shooting out streaks of electric light.

Long Ma erupted in fury. The two had never gotten along, and they almost came to blows right then and there before Ye Fan intervened to stop them.

During that last occasion, something unusual had occurred. When Ye Fan comprehended the Heavenly Emperor Fist, he had deeply moved the Golden-Winged Great Peng King, drawing it too into an indescribable state of Dao comprehension. Through that battle, it had comprehended the Great Peng King Fist — and now, among the Ten Saints, it ranked second only to Long Ma.

“Hahaha — Brother Ye has finally reached the final pass! Your name has long thundered in my ears, and today I am fortunate to meet you at last.” From ahead, three men walked over with open laughter, approaching with ease.

Ji Ziyue’s large, animated eyes spun with surprise — she could sense these three were remarkable, clearly no ordinary beings.

“We are the Three Heroes of Kunlun.” The newcomers introduced themselves, all three dressed in moon-white robes, dignified and refined in bearing, appearing quite transcendent.

Pang Bo was startled — Kunlun held a particular significance for them. He leaned toward Ye Fan and murmured: “What’s their background? Have you ever heard of them?”

Ye Fan shook his head and stepped forward. “Greetings, gentlemen.”

“We come from Kunlun Star. Knowing our foundation is shallow, we have no ambition for the Emperor’s path — we traveled all this way here only to meet the foremost heroes of the world.” The three were very warm, eager to befriend Ye Fan and the others, and invited them to a banquet.

One should not strike a smiling face extended in goodwill — especially when the sincerity was genuine. Ye Fan and the others returned the courtesy and walked shoulder to shoulder with them into the city.

True life-bearing ancient stars are rare in the cosmos, and most are small celestial domains. Hearing that they came from a place called Kunlun Star, Ye Fan and the others paid close attention.

“You must be Brother Ye, Brother Ji, and Brother Pang.” Before they had gone far, someone else stepped forward. This was a Daoist of medium height who appeared relatively young, unremarkable in appearance, but composed and unhurried.

Beside him, someone was startled: “That’s the Celestial Daoist — he lost narrowly to the Tyrant King, and yet he’s made it to the final pass too.”

“This humble Daoist has no other purpose — I only wish to travel alongside Brother Ye, to witness the magnificent flourishing of a great age, and to record the brilliant divine battles that are to come.” The Celestial Daoist said.

Many people were astonished. Was this young Daoist so certain that Ye Fan would attain the Dao? This kind of behavior had precedents in antiquity — it was the act of one who intended to record a Great Emperor’s life story.

“I wouldn’t dare — you flatter me, Fellow Daoist.” Ye Fan said.

“I have foreseen the great battles to come, and have sensed glimpses of one desolate ending after another.” The Celestial Daoist said with gravity.

Their group moved forward, with many onlookers watching and murmuring in a great clamor around them.

Within this pass city, no small number of people stepped forward, warmly inviting Ye Fan to sit and talk, offering to host them at banquets. In the end, their party had grown to many times its original size.

Suddenly, Ye Fan’s expression changed drastically. As they arrived at a deeper part of the city, he saw on a very tall wall a portrait, vivid and lifelike.

It was a little girl — chubby and lovely, with two small pigtails tied up like ram’s horns, beautiful and adorable. Yet her large eyes brimmed with tears, as though she might weep at any moment, appearing rather pitifully endearing.

“Xiao Nannan!” Ye Fan cried out, startled beyond composure — something that had never happened before in all these years. After so much time, he had never expected to find, on a sacred wall of the human race’s final pass, an image of this poor little girl.