“Who converted Hua Hua away?!” Long Ma bellowed. He had spent a long stretch of time in Tianzhicun, and still remembered that little shaved-headed child trotting about after everyone with great enthusiasm — despite always scheming to get Long Ma, the Black Emperor, Duan De, and the others into trouble.

But who would hold a grudge against a child? A mischievous brat was only more endearing for it — a little scheming made him all the more clever and vivacious.

Yet the little troublemaker from his memories had now been converted away by someone. From this day forward, he might not even recognize them anymore. The bond between master and disciple severed; those of Tianzhicun made strangers to him. How could that not ignite a fury?

“It was a supremely powerful figure from Mount Sumeru.” An elder of the Ji Family answered.

“It was them, as I expected!” Ye Fan’s eyes turned ice-cold in an instant, killing intent flooding the air.

He understood it well. Hua Hua was bound to become entangled with the Buddhist path — it was inevitable, owing to Earth’s “hidden treasures.” When Hua Hua was three years old, he had fallen into an ancient cave in the Tibetan region and accidentally absorbed all the collected Buddhist scriptures within, imprinting them deep into his subconscious.

Hua Hua was essentially a living Buddhist immortal sutra. The moment those within that faith became aware of him, they would never let him go — they would seek to bring him into Mount Sumeru.

Yet what Ye Fan had never anticipated was that Hua Hua’s fate would be this wretched. If the Buddhist faction had merely coveted the scriptures within him, that would have been one thing — but to have him forcibly converted and suppressed was something else entirely. To call it conversion was too generous. It was subjugation. Enslavement.

This was a profoundly tragic outcome. “Better to die in battle than suffer the disgrace of conversion” — so ran the words passed down from powerful figures of the ancient world, for such a person became a puppet stripped of self, no different from a slave.

Clearly, whoever had done this was extraordinarily powerful. Hua Hua had had no capacity to resist whatsoever — otherwise he would never have fallen to this most pitiable of ends.

“Enough of this — those bald-headed monks have gone too far! Do they really think they can walk all over us? Raze their Mount Sumeru to the ground!” Long Ma clamored, itching to act immediately.

“Is the Victorious Fighting Buddha stationed in the Western Desert?” Ye Fan grew calm, and turned to ask the Ji Family.

“The Ancient Buddha left many years ago, venturing deep into the cosmos. Mount Sumeru is no longer under his governance.” The Ji Family Head answered.

Ye Fan nodded. If the Victorious Fighting Buddha were still there, something like this would never have happened. The Western Desert ran deep — Mount Sumeru concealed far too many secrets. Now, it seemed, a confrontation was finally at hand.

An elder spoke: “I once heard that the one currently in charge of Mount Sumeru came from beyond the domain — though I cannot say whether it is true. There is also a rumor that an old monk who was suppressed in its dungeons by the Victorious Fighting Buddha long ago has broken free and become the master of the Great Thunder Sound Temple.”

“We will know when we get there.” Ye Fan’s gaze was piercing. Through the Void Emperor Palace’s treasure windows, he looked out toward the distant horizon, his mind churning with turbulent emotion.

Hunting his disciples, converting his disciple — these were not mere offenses. These were acts as vicious as cutting out the heart, the kind of deep, searing wounds that could not be endured in silence.

He had been away too long. His disciples had been tormented like this while he was gone. If they had fallen to opponents of the same generation, he would have had nothing to say. But a pack of old relic figures had crawled out — every one of them preying upon the weak, suppressing his disciples. His killing intent rose to the heavens, his battle blood surged and churned. He had to go and demand an accounting.

“It has been said that in recent months the Golden Crow Clan has been quite active. Some speculate that Ye Tong may not be dead — the clan has picked up a trail and is in hot pursuit, intending to execute him by slow dismemberment.” An elder shared this piece of information, unverified as it was.

Upon hearing this, Ye Fan made his decision at once. He would go to the Golden Crow Clan first, then proceed to the Western Desert. Hua Hua had been converted — whether that was addressed a day sooner or later would make no difference now. But Ye Tong’s life was potentially in immediate danger.

Next, Ye Fan learned what had become of the others from Tianzhicun: Xiao Que’er was currently on the run, still evading capture, but in grave danger. The ancient races were attempting to coerce the Silver-Blood Twin Kings into joining their ranks. Li Heishui and Dongfang Ye had once traveled to the Western Desert and knocked at its gates hoping to rescue Hua Hua, and had nearly been converted themselves.

Hearing it all, Ye Fan’s expression grew cold.

“Where is the Golden Crow Clan? Where in the Northern Dipper have they set up camp?” Long Ma asked.

“It is unknown exactly where. They are quite cautious — but every day, members of the Golden Crow Clan can be seen traversing the world. Finding one of their people should not be difficult.” The Ji Family Head answered.

Ye Fan rose and took his leave. Time was pressing, and he could not afford to delay. The last thing he wanted was for his disciple to be cut down at the very moment of his own return, after thirty years of pursuit.

The Ji Family’s important figures all rose as well, escorting them all the way to the outer gate — a rare and extraordinary honor, something that had not been seen for many years.

“Be careful.” Ji Ziyue urged.

Ye Fan nodded and said: “Next time, I will come with a proper gift.”

Several of the Ji Family’s key figures broke into expressions of delight, nodding quietly to themselves. They had Ji Ziyue accompany them a short while longer, all the way past the great river before the gate — the Ji River.

The land of the Eastern Desolation remained as it had always been, its magnificent mountains and rivers undiminished. Strands of holy energy floated through the air in greater numbers than before, and from time to time streaks of flowing light cut across the sky, traversing mountains and rivers.

Ye Fan soared into the sky, surveyed the open wilderness, and after a moment of careful thought, led Long Ma and the others surging straight upward, heading for the outer battlefield.

There, Saints engaged in battle every single day. It was where news spread most freely. He remembered seeing the Golden Crow Clan in conflict with others even as they had arrived, engaged in a great confrontation.

Out in the heavens, the cosmos stretched vast and boundless. Great stars turned slowly. In the ancient battlefield, corpses, shattered weapons, and drifting meteorites floated suspended in space alongside all manner of artifacts. From time to time, the piercing cry of a Saint would ring out.

The speed at which Ye Fan and his group traveled was extraordinary. In what seemed like an eyeblink, they appeared in outer space, looking down at the broad ancient domain below, searching for the target.

The sudden arrival of such a group, so numerous in strength, naturally sent hearts into a cold panic among those present — for none but Saints dared to come to this place.

“Have any of you seen the Golden Crow Clan?” Long Ma asked.

There were six or seven people in the middle of a battle in this area. Upon hearing the question, every one of them remained indifferent, and no one responded — none wanted to be drawn into someone else’s trouble. But inwardly, their hearts were far from calm. Was this group looking to start something with the powerful figures of Huosang Star?

The Ancient Golden Peng spread its wings, and howling winds surged out. Golden divine feathers blanketed the sky as it shot toward the distance, beginning its active search.

Long Ma let out a thunderous cry. Together with the other Saints, it fanned out into the more distant reaches of the battlefield. Only Ye Fan remained standing where he was, unmoved.

“Members of the Golden Crow Clan were fighting just a moment ago — in that direction.” Someone whispered from the shadows, pointing Ye Fan in the right direction.

He stepped forward without a word. The sun and moon seemed to reverse. He vanished from where he stood in an instant, reappearing in another position entirely, heading toward the distant battlefield.

This was a vast region where many powerful figures competed for dominance. Over the years, the endless descent of powerful beings from beyond the domain had brought tremendous upheaval, triggering constant conflicts, with no shortage of world-shaking battles.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng, Long Ma, the Black Bear Saint, and the others swept across the four directions, searching for the Golden Crows. The commotion they stirred along the way naturally threw everything into an uproar, sending many powerful figures scrambling in astonishment as they came to see what the disturbance was about.

This was the central ancient battlefield, where a large group was locked in chaotic combat. The moment Ye Fan appeared, he spotted a Golden Crow at first sight. He said nothing — he simply reached out and grabbed.

Everyone was taken aback. This was a powerful Golden Crow, and yet someone dared to reach out and snatch it bare-handed — as though picking up a chick?

“Who are you? Do you dare make an enemy of our Golden Crow Clan?!” The Golden Crow roared, beating its wings and bolting upward, dodging the great hand. Waves of shock ran through it. It could feel a profoundly dangerous aura.

“Who is this? How can someone be so brazen?” Everyone was filled with uncertainty. This young man who had appeared out of nowhere was overwhelmingly forceful.

The Golden Crow let out a long, piercing shriek that split the sky, its cry carrying into the distance, as it tried to summon its clanmates — its heart hammering with fear as the great hand came sweeping down over it.

Pffft!

In nearly an instant, a spray of blood shot through the air. Ye Fan had seized this Saint-level Golden Crow in his grasp, and with a single slight squeeze, bones shattered and tendons snapped. Golden feathers drifted through the outer void, stained with blood — nearly crushed to death on the spot.

Gasps of cold air filled the area. Everyone was stunned. This person was too powerful — he really was treating this being like a chick, dealing with a Saint-level ancient divine bird with not the slightest effort expended.

“Who is he?”

“I’ve never seen him before. Is he a newly arrived powerful figure? What star domain does he come from?”

This battlefield was thick with figures, many of them powerful — the majority were powerful Saints from beyond the domain who had descended upon the Northern Dipper within the past hundred years and had never laid eyes on Ye Fan.

Of course, there were also ancient race Saints present. They stared at the center of the scene in disbelief, hardly trusting their own eyes.

“Could it be… that he… has returned?”

“How could he have grown this powerful?!”

These individuals broke out in cold sweat. They quickly fell silent, minds working furiously, each one calculating privately.

“Where is the Golden Crow Clan’s nest?” Ye Fan looked down at the Golden Crow in his hand and asked with cold, emotionless indifference.

Rumble-rumble!

From the distance came a thunderous roar of sundered air. A massive golden battle ship appeared, its banners rippling in the wind, its deck bristling with Golden Crow powerhouses — every one of them bearing a cold, fierce expression, their killing intent blazing like an inferno.

They had heard a clanmate’s furious cry, and Long Ma and the Ancient Golden Peng’s earlier search for the clan had caused tremendous commotion — word had reached them. They had immediately rushed over from an adjacent section of battlefield.

“Who dares to bully our Golden Crow bloodline? Do you have a death wish?!” A voice boomed from the battle ship — an elder Golden Crow, his killing intent fully unleashed.

The golden battle chariot rumbled forward, crushing through the heavens. It radiated blinding brilliance, like a vast golden cloud pressing downward, awe-inspiring to behold.

This was clearly a supremely powerful figure who had been a Saint-King for an age untold, with formidable strength. And the ship itself was not lacking in Saints either — with him at the head, every single one of them radiated killing intent.

Everyone grew uneasy. The Golden Crow Clan’s power was beyond question. But a full shipload of powerful figures appearing at once — that was a rare sight even in recent years. Where were they planning to strike?

“Your entire force stands ready and equipped — a full shipload. Could it be that you are all heading out to hunt Ye Tong?” Ye Fan said with cold indifference.

“What if we are? Hunting that wretched little brat — what is it to you?” The elder Golden Crow replied coldly.

Finally, someone on the ship recognized Ye Fan. Terror spread across their face. In secret, they sent a voice transmission to the elder Golden Crow: “Something’s wrong — this person looks familiar. He’s the Holy Body from over a hundred years ago. He… has come back!”

“What — it’s him!” The elder Golden Crow’s heart plunged. Let alone a Holy Body — anyone who came back alive from the ancient road was not someone to be provoked.

“Release our clansman at once. Otherwise, you will die without a burial!” A young Golden Crow, completely unaware of the situation, shouted arrogantly, his expression domineering, his eyes glittering with cold malice.

Slap!

The elder Golden Crow gave that young Golden Crow a resounding blow across the face — sending blood flying — and silenced him. Then, swiftly issuing a command, the ship immediately tore open the void and attempted to flee.

“You bully my disciples, and now you still dare to bare your fangs at me.” Ye Fan said with composure, a trace of a cruel smile at the corners of his lips. He slowly extended a single golden hand and pressed it forward.

In that instant, heaven and earth collapsed. A great golden hand descended, blotting out the sky, like a vast golden cloud pressing downward — immeasurable and boundless.

Crack!

The ancient ship was torn apart, shattering in an instant.

And at the same moment, every person aboard cried out in terror — the elder leading them, a Golden Crow who had been a Saint-King for many long years, felt his very bones go cold with dread. There was no resisting this.

Pfft. Pfft…

Sheets of bloody light erupted. One Golden Crow after another exploded, blood and flesh flying in every direction, fragments of bone scattering — as though crushed to dust beneath a ten-thousand-jun weight.

“No—!”

Everyone on the ship screamed. All the Golden Crows detonated. Blood mist billowed outward. In what was almost a single moment, an entire shipload of Golden Crows had been annihilated by Ye Fan with a single golden hand.

“Who is this person?! This is terrifying!”

Every Saint in the area witnessed this scene. Cold overtook every inch of their bodies. Every hair stood on end, ice from head to foot. Combat power like this was a world-shaking revelation — utterly beyond reason.

“It’s him… the human race’s Holy Body. I saw him over a hundred years ago!” Finally, beyond the ancient races, even among the Saints from other domains, someone recognized Ye Fan and could not suppress a cry of shock.

“What — the human race’s Holy Body has returned?!” Everyone was shaken, their hearts surging with a tide of overwhelming disbelief.

The Holy Body of the human race had been gone for over a hundred years and more. And now, this day, he had returned — this forceful, this dominant, his undefeatable bearing awe-inspiring to behold. It shook every person there to their core.

In a brief moment of silence, this place erupted into a frenzy.

A cacophony of overlapping voices rose up. The Holy Body of the human race had returned. This news rang out like a thunderbolt, leaving everyone in a stupor. It raced across the battlefield at lightning speed — and was destined to stir up an enormous, crashing wave.