This age was filled with grief, leaving people sorrowful and wounded.
A hundred years passed. Some wounds, even time could not soothe. Many things could never be recovered. Certain marks were forever branded into the heart.
A hundred years of solitude — some had spent those hundred or more years in lone vigil, quietly waiting and gazing from afar. A hundred years of searching — some had traversed the entire star sea, bitterly pursuing footsteps that had long since vanished. A hundred years of pain — some licked their wounds in secret, recovering in the shadows.
Time flowed on, and so a hundred years passed. The dark upheaval had ended, yet it had left upon this age wounds and bitterness that could not be erased.
“Master — where are you?!” Ye Tong and the others roared, searching all through the star sea, finding nothing in the end — their tears scattered across the stars.
“Divine Son — I know it. You are certainly still alive and will come back.” Little Sparrow departed in desolation.
The autumn wind blew down yellow leaves, and another autumn came. The cold closed in with a slashing harshness — this deep autumn was rather cold and bleak, making hearts grow cool.
That battle had ended, and countless races had all shed much blood and tears. Too many wounds still needed time to slowly heal. Countless common people had died untimely deaths, and outstanding heroes had passed away in far too great numbers.
The Void Great Emperor and the Boundless Universe Great Emperor were remembered by every race, who cherished what they had done — for they had sacrificed so very much. And Gai Jiuyou was sung of throughout the world. Those words — “Who dares do battle with me?” — seemed still to echo in everyone’s ears. Though he had met a tragic and heroic end, his radiance still lived on.
Stars flickered and died, tides rose and fell. What had been lost was ultimately too difficult to retrieve — undying within the passage of time, yet only able to live on in the memories of people.
“That battle — too many people died. What a pity. How many outstanding heroes left their bones in foreign lands, spilling blood in the outer domains — many without even leaving their names behind.”
“A ripple on the long river of time, splashing up a brilliance that reached the sky — it moves the heart.”
Every race held memorial services — not only for Ji Zi, Jiang Taixu, and Gai Jiuyou, but throughout the cosmos tens of thousands of powerful clans had sent their outstanding heroes into battle. Some had died on their ancestral stars, some had rushed to the outer domains. Though unable to approach the battlefield, they had been fearless and had made their effort — shattering at the edge of the battlefield.
Only quasi-Emperors could enter the battlefield — and without question, every one of them had died in battle. Their blood scattered in the outer domain, and the cosmos had been almost entirely wiped clean of beings at that level!
These were the most powerful individuals — the elite of the world — some even carrying the hope of proving their Dao. Yet all had died in battle, falling in this most terrifying dark upheaval.
They became heroes of their respective races, firmly remembered, spoken of and transmitted — imprints of an age, known by every man, woman, and child within their clans.
Among those who had passed, all were the most powerful outstanding heroes of this age. Could it truly be that not a single one had survived? People had once hoped, wishing for a miracle.
Yet a hundred years of solitude passed, with not a single outstanding hero returning against the will of heaven. No matter how transcendent one had been in life, no matter how extraordinarily gifted, the fallen were fallen.
“Ask this world — is there truly transmigration?” Many powerful clans wept in grief, the entire clan crying out to the heavens, hoping the most supreme heroes of their clans who had fallen in battle might one day reappear in the mortal world.
But could this come true? The dead were like lamps extinguished — there had never been transmigration to begin with. No coming life, no next birth — this was the shared understanding of many powerful cultivators.
This outcry to the heavens was only an expression of devotion, a way of voicing grief and anguish. Only a minority dared to dream, hoping a miracle might be born.
The elder Great Saints sighed lightly. Since they had already died, reappearing was impossible. Even the great Emperors of old had been thus — not reborn through this, holding no hope for the future, competing only in the present moment.
If there was one who was special, it was without question Amitabha.
The Buddhist faith firmly believed the next life was not illusory — one could wait for it, and somewhere in the long river of time there would always be two similar flowers. When one flower withers, another blooms — the most beautiful brilliance lay in the future.
After this day, in certain regions of the Amitabha ancient star domain, golden-bodied Arhats, Bodhisattvas, and guardian Heavenly Kings set out, searching everywhere, seeking the fallen elite of the Buddhist faith.
A hundred years of time, a hundred years of grief — everything ultimately, slowly drew to a close. One age passed.
In the ruins of blood and bone, new hope for life also emerged. A new generation of powerful young figures had grown up. They had witnessed the most blood-soaked upheaval in history, had seen one world-dominating powerful figure after another rush forward like moths to a flame — dying without hesitation. From their youngest years this had profoundly moved them, forging great strength of will. And having felt the rampage of those supreme auras, they grew up stronger than the generation before.
Though many people had died, a generation tempered through iron and blood was awe-inspiring in bearing. They had grown powerful in the fire of war, filling many of the holy positions that had fallen vacant.
In these hundred years, the world was not at peace. Much happened. The Underworld came forth in force, manifesting in the mortal world — endless soldiers of the dead crossing star domains, collecting the bodies of powerful cultivators who had died in battle.
For this reason, many bloody battles broke out everywhere — local wars following the end of the darkness. For a time this greatly unsettled people’s hearts.
“At the end of the cycle, all things shall come to a close, and the Underworld shall be the final destination of all living beings.”
These words, passed on by someone unknown, had once caused widespread panic. The soldiers of the dead traversed all for a hundred years, and certain mysterious ancient domains were also chaotic for a hundred years.
In the end, they vanished strangely once more.
Furthermore, from the depths of the cosmos there was one great star whose seals had loosened. A massive army set out from there, marching on distant lands. In the end, fighting their way through with blood, after a hundred years of punitive campaigns, a single immortal bell rang out in great resonance — and they were defeated in battle, retreating, leaving many bodies behind.
Over the hundred years, many destroyed homelands were rebuilt. Above the shattered and fragmented Mount Sumeru in the Western Desert, Buddhist light appeared. From within several temples came the sound of chanted sutras.
The Northern Dipper had great star, moon, and celestial bodies moved back into place by those of immense power. The Great Xia dynasty, the Nine Underworld clan, the Ji Family, the Jiang Family, and others likewise built up their clan grounds in the ruins.
And so it was everywhere. The Feathered Ascendance star domain, the Heavenly Reach star domain, the Curved Celestial star domain, the Fiery Mulberry star domain — all powerful clans everywhere were recuperating, wanting to recover in the shortest possible time.
When two hundred years had passed since the dark upheaval, all domains throughout the heavens had emerged from the shadow of the blood calamity. Populations had fully recovered, and a scene of prosperity appeared.
The ancient roads broken across the star sea were restored. Many outstanding figures stepped onto the paths of trial, honing themselves, wishing to shine brilliantly in this age.
Time was the greatest force in the world — under its tempering, all things could slowly change.
When several more decades passed, every clan had thoroughly flourished. The faint harbingers of a golden age of abundance seemed just beginning to emerge — it was hard to imagine that once, a great catastrophe had taken place.
“Truly an age of great abundance. Almost every kind of constitution has appeared, blooming with the most brilliant and extraordinary radiance!”
“Unimaginable — the golden age of prosperity foretold in prophecy has come, and it has come after a great calamity!”
From destruction to recuperation, then to the emergence of vitality, then to flourishing, then to extreme abundance — these stages astonished all who witnessed them.
In the years before, there had already been powerful figures of every kind of constitution. After the great calamity, many had survived — and now even more who had appeared only in the distant ancient past, the ancient times, and the age of myths, the so-called “divine seedlings,” were emerging. It was truly a hundred flowers in full bloom, stars blazing brilliantly in all directions.
People had once believed that when the path to immortality opened, this lifetime would enter the strongest golden age in all of history. Who could have imagined it would be the most tragic calamity imaginable?
The cosmos itself was cracked. Every race was blood-washed, nearly driven to destruction.
From then on, no one believed a golden age of prosperity would come — all believed every prophecy had been wrong.
Yet events proved there would always be surprises, and the will of heaven and earth was unfathomable.
The golden age of prosperity had come — arriving after the blood calamity. Ten thousand flowers bloomed in full, illuminating the cosmos with the most dazzling brilliance. Stars blazed in all directions. Every kind of powerful constitution that should only appear in legend was now coexisting in this very age!
“Unbelievable — a hundred years ago, someone witnessed the Undying Celestial Blade crossing the cosmos, slicing apart endless stars, seizing the immortal light left behind after the path to immortality collapsed — all simply to nurture a stone egg. A hundred years have now passed, and someone else has again seen that stunning blade-light. It seems that living being must have been born into the world many years ago!”
“Is it true — someone has also seen the Chaos Body!”
“Yin Tiande is close to being unrivaled under heaven!”
“Is Yao Guang about to reign supreme in the world?”
The world buzzed with discussion. One dazzling divine star after another rose, illuminating the cosmos, splitting through the sky of this age, blazing with the most striking light.
Stirring songs of battle rang out one after another, one stunning figure after another drew everyone’s gaze — revered by all races, admired by all.
Several more decades passed, and the three hundredth year arrived. The world gradually ascended toward the absolute pinnacle of its golden flourishing. This was a great age of rare occurrence across ten thousand ages. Though the most powerful figures of every race had fallen in that battle of years past, they had long since been replaced and surpassed.
Bloodlines that had appeared only in the age of myths were now emerging, shaking the mortal world — their light eternal, watched by all under heaven.
This was a glorious age. This was a golden age of prosperity without parallel. And the people of this age had the fortune of witnessing its arrival!
In the frigid cosmos, on the former battlefields — so many years had seen one group of people leave, and another would come. They came to pay their respects to the fallen, to honor their ancestors. But more came searching for fragments of imperial weapons — those were supreme immortal materials. Even refining a small piece into one’s own weapon would cause its power to surge enormously.
What a pity that after so many years, with so many imperial weapons shattered, only a tiny amount had been found and recovered. The rest remained buried throughout the boundless star domains.
“Where did so much immortal material go? These were not one or two great weapons — almost every supreme-level weapon of the age was destroyed. How could only such a small amount of remnants remain? Certainly some were collected by those with intent, unknown to others.”
People were unwilling to accept this, yet did not give up the search. After all, the cosmos was too vast — no one could know which regions the great battles of those years had truly reached.
Perhaps the imperial blood, the weapons, the remnant corpses were still drifting — in some unknown corner. If found, it would be a treasure trove that would shake the mortal world.
The dark upheaval had been over for too long. Gradually, those who came to the cosmic battlefield to mourn the Void Great Emperor, the Boundless Universe Great Emperor, and Gai Jiuyou grew fewer and fewer. Most came now to seek treasure, to seek imperial blood.
The Emperor battle had ended. The blood calamity was a distant memory. People’s eyes were now fixed on the stunning figures rising one after another — Yin Tiande, Yao Guang, and name after name shaking the star sea, blazing with brilliance, watched by all the world.
And in that desolate outer reaches of the cosmos — blood and bones drifted, no light, no warmth, only darkness and cold. The weapons that had once accompanied him were long since shattered, stained with blood — proof of one who had cast aside life and death, who had once fought with everything against the Supreme Beings.