This was a powerful, robust silhouette — tall and upright, with a full head of black hair cascading loose across his chest and back, lending him an air of savage, untamed energy. His gaze was sharp and piercing. From the crown of his head, blood energy surged skyward like a rolling, boundless sea.

The moment he appeared, all four corners of the sky seemed on the verge of collapse. The sheer strength of his physical body was truly world-shaking — something that didn’t feel entirely real.

Ye Fan was briefly startled. This commanding, awe-inspiring man looked somewhat unfamiliar, yet Ye Fan knew in an instant who he was — for that golden blood energy and that deeply familiar fundamental essence were far too close to his own.

This was Yang Xi — the disciple Ye Fan had taken in at the fiftieth gate of the Ancient Human Race Road, the one in whose veins ran the Holy Blood.

So many years had passed. The small, ragged child of those days had grown to this. Were it not for that resonance of essence and energy, it would have been nearly impossible to connect him to the boy he had once been. The youth’s childlike immaturity was long gone; he was now a towering, world-dominating figure of supreme power, standing with his feet astride the world.

“Master!”

Yang Xi charged forward, his entire body wreathed in golden blood energy streaked through with crimson-scarlet radiance — immensely powerful, unstoppable. He arrived in an instant.

He dropped to his knees at once, crying “Master!” again and again, his voice thick with emotion. Hot tears rolled down his face. His powerful frame trembled and shook, unable to contain itself.

When the news of the tragedy had come, Yang Xi had been no longer a child — yet even so, he had wept for days without stopping, unable to master himself. He had hated himself for his meager cultivation, for his inability to go and fight in Ye Fan’s place, forced to endure that outcome from afar.

And it was precisely because of that that Yang Xi had thrown himself into cultivation with an intensity surpassing everyone else over the three hundred years that followed, never once ceasing his bitter training, until he had attained the awe-inspiring level of power he had now — enough to make every aspirant on the path to emperorship wary.

Over these years, he had been nothing short of a second Ye Fan — with his golden blood, with the supreme Dao techniques of the Holy Body lineage, he had swept away every opponent.

Yang Xi’s power was beyond question. For many years the strongest figures had held him in reverence and dread. He was a supremely difficult adversary — not even the mightiest figures of Ye Fan’s own era had ever moved against him.

In this moment, he let all that emotion show. Tears streaked his face, and his voice trembled: “Master — is it truly you? When news came that you had fallen beyond the domain boundary, it came so suddenly…”

At that time, his very organs had felt as though they were splitting apart — yet he had lacked the power to defy heaven and seize back his master’s life. He could only grieve and weep.

And now, to be reunited — though his years were no longer few, still tears came like rain, his body trembling as he knelt before Ye Fan on one knee.

Ye Fan’s own nose began to ache. Time had flowed on, and so much had changed. He helped Yang Xi to his feet and studied him carefully, nodding again and again.

“Good child. You’ve grown up.”

There was much that needed no saying. Everything lay within the surge of emotion, spoken by the way feeling rose and fell between them.

“Master, you’ve returned. If Master’s wife, the senior brother, the Black Emperor… and so many people in the Heavenly Court were to learn of this, they would be shaken to the core, weeping for joy — every single one of them misses you beyond measure.”

“We will meet again, in time.” Ye Fan spoke with a trace of bitterness in his voice. He hid nothing from this disciple of his. Three hundred years had passed — it was not that he had not wished to return, only that he had barely been able to move at all until recently.

“Master, please wait here — let me drive off that swarm of flies!” Yang Xi said to Ye Fan. He wiped away his tears, then spun sharply on his heel to face the distance. His expression went frigid as he spoke: “My Master once battled Supreme Beings in blood — even heaven could not take him. What are you lot? Get out of my sight — every last one of you!”

He was furious, understandably so. In years past, the deaths of Gai Jiuyou, Jiang Taixu, and Ji Zi one after another had left the people of Heavenly Village grieving for a long, long time — and now Ye Fan had returned only to be met with this.

That voice hit like a peal of thunder, and that single roar split the sky above, nearly tearing the souls loose from the bodies of those who heard it.

This was the power of the Holy Body bloodline — a terrifying physical form, blood energy that surged like a tide. Over these many years, Yang Xi had been regarded as a second Ye Fan, and the supremely formidable power he had cultivated was something rarely seen in all the world.

Many in the crowd involuntarily stumbled backward, their entire bodies trembling without being able to stop, their blood rushing and roaring along with the resonance of his voice.

Yet among those who had come, there were those who were truly unparalleled cultivators. Hearing these words, their expressions naturally turned to ice.

Someone spoke: “Young one, your arrogance goes too far. I was ranging across the world when you had not yet been born. Even if your master himself said these words, it would not be permitted.”

But before Yang Xi could respond, from behind him rose a wave of sound like the crashing of mountains and seas — all the people who had come with reverence and devotion, who had never left, far more numerous than those who had arrived from the Emperor’s Pass, all joining their voices in rebuke.

Those who harbored hostile intent were jolted. So many powerful figures — in and of themselves they represented a great tide of momentum. If they moved directly against Ye Fan right now, they might well bring down the condemnation of the entire world.

“Setting aside whether he is truly the Holy Body Ye Fan, even if he is — there are no personal courtesies to be shown here. He deserves respect, but this is the Immortal-Ascending Battlefield, where the contest for emperor is played out, and there is no retreating. The only thing we can do is this: if we defeat him, we leave him his life.”

“Agreed — the Holy Body Ye Fan commands respect. If we defeat him, we will not strike a killing blow.”

The one who spoke was from the Hegemon Body Ancestor Star, with the most domineering blood of heaven flowing through his veins. His kind and the Holy Body had been natural enemies since ancient times, locked in endless mortal combat. The words of “respect” on his lips were, in truth, nothing but provocation and insult.

“A rabble of dogs dares to make noise here. Tell your Hegemon King to come out and meet his death. You have no standing to be in this place — killing you would only dirty my master’s eyes.”

This was Yang Xi’s response. He stood like a golden mountain, looking down upon the contingent from the Hegemon Body Ancestor Star without placing a single one of them in his eyes.

The entire crowd was shaken, astonishment spreading through both those who were hostile and those who had come to support Ye Fan — every single person felt a chill pass through their heart.

The Hegemon King. In years past, he had narrowly lost to Ye Fan — yet his true combat power was absolutely beyond reckoning. No equal could be found across the entire world. In all the vast expanses of the starry sky, there were few who dared to face him in battle.

Hundreds of years on, Ye Fan’s disciple had grown to maturity — and was now directly challenging the Hegemon King. Was it any wonder people’s hearts seized in shock? This was fighting in his master’s stead, a rematch with the Hegemon King!

Had the Hegemon King actually come? No one could be certain. But regardless, with Yang Xi present, there was bound to be a clash of dragons and tigers.

Indeed, all of those from the Hegemon Body Ancestor Star changed expression at once, and several immediately shattered the void and charged forward, tearing toward Yang Xi with the intention of fighting him to the death.

“You Hegemon Blood is diluted and thin — you’re nothing but descendants. But since you come from that star, even setting aside the fact that you haven’t provoked my master — just for the sake of that old bastard the Great Perfection Hegemon Body being your ancestor — I’ll cut down every last one of you!”

Yang Xi was supremely aggressive. He charged forward directly — not against one, but against all four at once. He swept out with his palm and fingers. A torrent of golden sword-wind erupted, vast and terrifying beyond measure.

The enmity between the Hegemon Body and the Holy Body ran too deep, stretching back to the age of myth — they had always been locked in mortal combat. The moment they crossed paths now, hostility was immediate and visceral. The Hegemon Body cultivators wanted nothing more than to kill Ye Fan and Yang Xi where they stood.

These people were powerful — but unfortunately, they had run into a Holy Body wielder of pure bloodline. Their thin Hegemon Blood was no match. The moment the first blows were exchanged, they took severe punishment.

Crack!

Yang Xi’s palm strike carried devastating power. Even in this place that suppressed the laws of the Dao, the sword-wind he released still reduced the mountains ahead to flying ash. And the first man to charge at him — Yang Xi’s palm reduced him to ruin on the spot, his body shattered apart, pieces flying in all directions, violet blood spraying everywhere.

The scene made every hair on every head stand on end. What kind of power was this? It truly carried the same spirit as Ye Fan — unmistakably cut from the same cloth.

For all these years, people had spoken of Ye Fan’s disciples, for they were extraordinary beyond measure — each one more formidable than the last. Among them, Yang Xi was undeniably the most exceptional, for he shared bloodline close to Ye Fan’s own — and was inevitably compared to his master.

Over three hundred years, Yang Xi had never buckled under that weight. On the contrary, it had driven him forward, fueling his desire to not let his master’s legendary name fall, to let the world see that the continuation of the master’s Holy Blood still blazed with brilliant, undimmed radiance.

Without question, he had done it. Though he was not the first-generation Holy Body, through years of tempering he had reached the very pinnacle of power, awakening the ancient bloodline’s secret realm, no inferior to a true Holy Body of antiquity.

“Dogs like you dare to insult my master — all of you can die!” Yang Xi made good on his words. His movement was unpredictable, terrifyingly so — he crossed the battlefield like a golden humanoid war dragon, each stride spanning hundreds upon hundreds of meters.

Crack. Crack…

In the end, every one of those people was killed. Each punch drew blood, accompanied by the sound of shattering bones. It cost Yang Xi very little effort — he swept through them cleanly.

“Well struck!”

Roars of acclaim rose from the crowd, and the entire area was set ablaze with excitement.

In years past, the Great Perfection Hegemon Body had washed a star domain in blood, participating in the dark upheaval and bringing grief and fury — yet no one had been able to do anything about it.

Had the Great Perfection Hegemon Body not remained dormant there through those three hundred years, someone would long since have gone to the Hegemon Body Ancestor Star to settle accounts. Now that someone had struck out like this, it was only natural that people felt a surge of satisfaction.

The pilgrims who had come treading in Ye Fan’s footsteps burst into cheers. Densely packed together, they were now vast in number, arrayed in sharp opposition against the contingent facing them.

Arrayed on the other side, without question, were the supreme cultivators who had just descended from the Emperor’s Pass — every one of them without equal.

Then, a tall man with a demonic aura — one that pressed down upon all nine layers of heaven — came forward step by step, each step sending mountains and all creation shuddering in his wake.

The moment he appeared, the entire battlefield fell silent in an instant. Not a single person spoke, for this aura was too crushing, too soul-shaking. A wave of terror reached deep into the bones of all who stood there.

The Hegemon King.

After more than three hundred years, Ye Fan looked again upon this man.

The Hegemon King’s arrival brought a wave of dread over every person present — for he was too powerful. That attitude of supreme supremacy, of absolute invincibility, shook every last person to the core.

He fixed his gaze directly on Ye Fan. Beneath a dense fall of dark hair, a pair of eyes gleamed like the edge of a blade — razor-sharp and imposing, capable of splitting the sky.

“I never imagined I would see you again. Can you still fight?!” The Hegemon King’s voice rang out like iron striking iron, making many on the battlefield tremble, their ear bones feeling as if they might crack.

“You will still lose.” Ye Fan spoke — quietly, naturally — but the words rang through the mortal world like the toll of a great bell, and those who heard them felt a sharp jolt pass through them.

It came like a thunderclap. Three hundred years had passed. Ye Fan’s condition was poor — he had even lost his Dao power — and yet he was still this confident.

When everyone looked at him, a deep and profound awe filled their eyes. In the sunlight, Ye Fan’s body burned with a layer of radiance, and he radiated the aura of someone utterly invincible.

Three hundred years. His Dao art fragments were gone — yet his physical body, having survived his battle with a Supreme Being and then been reforged anew, had grown even more formidable. Here on this battlefield, he feared no one.

“You are arrogant!” The Hegemon King’s eyes became even more dangerous. His pupils had vanished, replaced by a terrifying violet light, striking out like blades of violet light.

In years past, he had been defeated by Ye Fan — the greatest humiliation of his life. When he learned that Ye Fan still lived, his entire body had trembled and his violet blood had begun to boil, burning with the desire to avenge that ancient shame.

“Hegemon King, spare us the posturing. In years past, my master already defeated you thoroughly. Had the Guardian of the Ancient Human Race Road not intervened and pleaded on your behalf, you would have been dead for many years. What gives you the right to challenge my master again? Today, I will fight you!” Yang Xi’s voice rang out.

He had already sought Ye Fan’s permission, received his approval, and was now striding forward to face the Hegemon King head-on.

The Holy Body lineage is something else!

Every heart present resounded with that thought. The awe was universal. In years past, Ye Fan had already defeated the Hegemon King — and now, his disciple had grown to the point where he, too, was ready to face the Hegemon King in battle.

The Hegemon King’s body erupted in surging violet energy. A single roar shattered and collapsed every mountain and river nearby. His expression was one of glacial, bone-chilling fury.

For him, this was intolerable.

From behind, someone spoke: “Is the younger generation this arrogant these days?” A blaze of flame containing a humanoid figure stepped forward. Coming from the Emperor’s Pass, it was now releasing terrifying might — and its Dao cultivation had not been severed.

“The Ancient Fire Spirit Cangyan!” Many voices cried out in recognition.

This ancient Saint Spirit was renowned throughout the starry sky, formidably powerful and terrifying beyond measure. No one had expected that it would make its position clear and target Ye Fan.

“After all these years, you still have not advanced a single step — you still have not reached the half-step Emperor realm. You must have had a hard time of it.” Ye Fan said with a smile, his mood good. Seeing these old figures, he could not help but be carried back to the blazing memories of years past, and his own fighting spirit began to stir.

Fire Spirit Cangyan’s face immediately darkened at those words. Its seniority was immense — it was of a generation far above even Ye Fan’s masters — and to be teased like this left its gaze turning to glacial cold.

In years past, its battle with the Old Madman had shaken the universe. Aside from a handful of figures, no one had been its equal. But more than three hundred years had passed, several generations had risen to maturity — and still it had not advanced that final step, still unable to cross that threshold. Though it lacked only a hairsbreadth, it simply could not do it. The frustration had been choking it for years.

Now, to have that laid bare publicly — and by its juniors, at that — its expression darkened further.

“Then let me see whether you have made any progress.” Cangyan spoke coldly, without mercy.

It came forward step by step. Flames blazed to the heavens from its entire body, forming a divine halo forged from celestial fire, enfolding and protecting it within. Its body shone with brilliant, awe-inspiring radiance.

Evidently, even having arrived at the Immortal-Ascending Battlefield, it still retained formidable Dao cultivation — it had not been severed.

“Roarrr…”

Before Ye Fan could respond, from the distant sky came a roar like a crashing ocean, and a figure approached at a speed that surpassed the limit.

“Fire Spirit, don’t lord your age over others — my master once battled ancient Supreme Beings in blood! Can you say the same? You’re not worthy of fighting my master today. The monk here will send you on to your next life!”

It was not just one who had come — two silhouettes appeared side by side, both moving at the absolute edge of speed. The one who spoke was a shaven-headed man.

Boom!

Blood energy surged to the sky. Divine light blotted out the sun. Two terrifyingly powerful silhouettes descended from above, arriving like lightning from the heavens, power pushed to its absolute limit.

“Master — we’re here!” Ye Tong and Hua Hua appeared together, dropping to their knees side by side, faces streaked with tears, trembling with overwhelmed emotion.

“Rise!” Ye Fan helped them to their feet.

“Senior brother — the three of us together can sweep them all away. Let’s see who still doesn’t know their place in heaven and earth!” Yang Xi called out from where he stood facing off against the Hegemon King.

“Agreed!” Ye Tong responded. His body blazed with fire that reached the heavens. He took one step forward and bore straight down upon Fire Spirit Cangyan: “You’re mine today. Come and fight!”

The crowd was shaken. Even the supreme cultivators who had arrived from the Emperor’s Pass felt a chill run through their hearts. This was Ye Fan’s senior disciple — one whose reputation had shaken the universe for many years, and who all of them regarded with extreme wariness.

Three of Ye Fan’s disciples had arrived at once — every single one of them a peerless figure of supreme power, sufficient to command the awe of all the great powers gathered here.