Four stone horses surged forward with the power of rolling thunder, their hooves shaking the heavens and earth as they galloped, pulling a stone carriage from which emerged a towering Sacred Spirit — the stone person powerhouse known as the Great Mighty.

Nine tribulation clouds spread across the sky as a Daoist came forward, carrying a longsword on his back. He had none of the refined, transcendent air one would expect — instead, his eyes were sharp as cold electricity, cutting like blades.

These were all overlords whose names shook the One True Path, their divine power boundless, going undefeated wherever they went, never having suffered a single loss — and yet they were mutually wary of each other, for none of them had yet fought a life-or-death battle against the others.

“This stone person has killed far too many people — killing is in his very nature. He has never left a single survivor; all who have stood against him are dead.”

“The Nine Tribulations Daoist is no good-natured soul either — the road behind him is soaked in blood.”

These two had earned their fearsome reputations through slaughter. The moment they entered the Cloud-Piercing Tower, they left a trail of discussion in their wake.

“The Divine Race Celestial Maiden Xinlan has arrived!” someone exclaimed in surprise.

From the distance, flower petals danced through the air as a beautiful woman approached with elegant grace, crystalline petals raining down around her, making the entire scene appear incomparably magnificent and radiant.

This was a powerful woman of the Divine Race. In ordinary times, few dared to provoke her, for it was rumored that she might share a blood relation with the Divine Sovereign — and currently, no one was without fear toward the Divine Race’s overlord.

What surprised people was that the two powerful figures from the Divine Race had arrived separately, having taken different roads.

A gray flood dragon came flying through the sky, hundreds of zhang in length, pulling a palanquin carriage wreathed in primordial chaos energy, heading straight for the Cloud-Piercing Tower.

Everyone drew a sharp breath of cold air. This ancient flood dragon was a peak Great Sage–level existence, yet it had been reduced to the drudgery of pulling a carriage — a sight that was truly astonishing.

People knew who was arriving — it could only be the Divine Sovereign, and no one else. He had in total subjugated eight mounts, all of whom had once been the supreme powerhouses of their respective domains when they walked the ancient road among the stars, yet they had now become his carriage-pulling laborers.

The Divine Sovereign was being somewhat restrained — only bringing one wild beast to pull the carriage rather than bringing all his mounts — yet it was still enough to make people marvel.

The gray flood dragon transformed into an elderly man, rose to its full height, and lifted the bead-curtain of the palanquin, ushering out a male figure who instantly captured everyone’s gaze.

This was a man of medium stature — not particularly imposing in height — yet he possessed an aura of commanding authority without any show of anger, as though he alone stood supreme across the six directions and eight wastelands.

His head was full of violet hair, exceptionally thick and dense. His pair of violet pupils were almost eerily striking, with the electrical arcs within them made tangible and solid. When they swept across those present, it felt as though blades were scraping bone and arrows were piercing marrow — utterly terrifying.

Upon his head sat an Emperor’s crown, flowing with violet-gold radiance, binding up the violet hair. His body was clothed in a Divine Emperor’s robe, embroidered with scenes of ascension and feathered transformation, and images of divine beings and demons kneeling in submission.

His entire person flowed with rosy clouds of light, radiating an aura of supreme nobility. Beyond that, he possessed a dominance that made all the world bow before him — a bearing that said he alone stood at the peak beneath heaven. He was not particularly physically imposing, yet he inspired awe and fear.

Every step he took carried a particular resonance — heaven and earth resonating with his Dao and his Law — as though he were not a person at all, but the most ancient of divine gods descended to the mortal world, gazing down upon the human realm with sovereign contempt.

Every person upon whom his gaze fell nearly suffocated, unable to help themselves from falling back, their entire bodies on the verge of having their flesh and bones rupture, utterly unable to resist.

This was the Divine Sovereign — the strongest of the Divine Race in this current generation. He had fought undefeated across the ancient road, and after entering the Imperial Passes, he had continued to suppress the powerful figures of all the clans under heaven, allowing none to lift their heads.

Only after he entered the Cloud-Piercing Tower did people finally let out a breath of relief and dare to begin discussing him openly.

“So this is the Divine Sovereign. Too terrifying — just looking at him makes one feel unable to control oneself, as if sinking into a deep abyss, wanting to self-destruct. Who could possibly contend with him?”

“Deserving of the title — the one who subjugated wild beasts and reduced Great Sages to his carriage-pullers!”

After all the supreme powerhouses had entered, Ji Chengdao also arrived. Much of the armor on his body was damaged, stained with dark red bloodstains. He walked straight up into the tower.

He had come to challenge the place, seeking a battle with the Divine Sovereign — this had already caused a great stir, and quite a few people followed him up into the tower, all wanting to see what would happen.

The tower was tall and grand, with spatial laws operating within its interior. It was not merely a matter of some powerhouses coming to enjoy the spectacle — even if a hundred thousand people entered simultaneously, there would be no problem.

On the highest floor of the tower, the space was misty and ethereal. There was a vast and enormous platform — seemingly carved from a colossal mountain that had been cut apart — with primordial chaos energy drifting across it. Upon it sat jade stone tables one after another, each corresponding to a stone chair, the different seats spaced far apart from one another. Sitting upright in these seats were the current overlords.

Those whose cultivation was weak could not ascend to that platform which resembled a severed mountain peak upon entering this floor — they could only look up from below in awe. For the people sitting up there made no effort to conceal their auras; the energy flowing from them was intensely oppressive, and it invisibly blocked the path of all those who wished to ascend.

This caused many people to feel deeply disheartened. They understood — through this gathering today, their own Emperor’s Road had already dimmed and grown desolate. They had no way to contend with those seated above, and had been defeated before a single strike had been exchanged.

But there were also some younger, less seasoned faces that were undeterred, secretly clenching their fists. They were still young — they still had time to temper and refine themselves.

“Divine Sovereign — dare you fight?” Ji Chengdao was direct. He stepped in a single bound up onto the ancient platform, which stood at the height of half a mountain, and let out a great shout that made the entire tower tremble three times.

Over all these years, his heart had been filled with bitterness. He had a mother he could not see, and a father who had likewise gone far away. Even now he could still remember — after he had grown into adulthood, his father, that man of innately unyielding bone and spirit, whose temples had already gone frost-white, had silently dressed himself in travel clothes and departed in grey attire, dressed as a common laborer-slave, leaving without looking back. He had wanted to stop him but could not, and to this day he still did not know where his father was.

Three hundred years ago, his father had been acclaimed as the Divine King — unrivaled wherever he went, whether in the Northern Dipper Star Domain or on the ancient roads he had walked, his iron will and unbending spirit unmatched. Yet in the end he had faded away and retreated into obscurity in such a dim and muted manner.

After quietly piecing together the truth from many sources, Ji Chengdao came to understand that the past events were connected to the Divine Sovereign — who had suppressed his mother, broken his father, and driven away the Divine King in a fashion that was callous and humiliating.

More than three hundred years had passed. Ji Chengdao had surpassed his father entirely, far stronger than his father had been at that time. He had reached the peak of the Great Sage absolute pinnacle realm.

This was a threshold that had blocked many people. Even figures of older generations had gotten no further — they were all blocked here, unable to surpass it. Though he was comparatively still “young,” he was already second to none.

“Child, you are not yet ready. I said it before — at minimum, it will be fifty years before you can manage a rough match against me. You are still far too lacking,” the Divine Sovereign spoke from his position on the high platform — hazy and indistinct, like a heavenly sovereign seated within primal chaos, his expression impossible to discern.

“Pretending!” Ji Chengdao laughed coldly, swept his gaze across everyone present, then fixed it on the Divine Sovereign: “Prove it with real action — fight!”

The Divine Sovereign sat there motionless, like a clay-molded divine statue, not a single ripple stirring within him. He said: “I only fear striking a blow that damages your Dao-heart, causing it to become unstable. Go train for another fifty years — I will wait for you.”

“I, Ji Chengdao, do not fear failure. I grew up being knocked around by one senior after another — am I afraid of a little setback?”

The Black Emperor heard this and nodded. Little Chengdao had grown up being thrashed by them since childhood. Never mind the wild man’s roars or the Dog Emperor’s biting — even that unprincipled Daoist had once disciplined him using heavenly tribulation-tempering techniques, putting him through a hellish regimen of training.

Little Chengdao’s greatest strength was his tenacity — he did not fear failure, and grew stronger with every setback. After every battle, he would reflect and learn, and would inevitably rise to a higher level. For this reason, Ye Tong had passed on to him several supreme forbidden secret arts — including the Scribe’s Secret Art and the Character Incantation — to preserve his life in times of crisis.

A peal of laughter like silver bells rang out. The Divine Race Celestial Maiden Xinlan rose from her seat and beckoned to Ji Chengdao: “Good child, you have spirit! Come, over here to your auntie.”

“Who are you?” Ji Chengdao showed no appreciation for the gesture. He was well aware that this powerful woman also came from the Divine Race, and he had not one shred of goodwill toward them.

“Oh my — you’ve truly inherited both your father’s and your mother’s proud spirit. Your auntie has not even the slightest ill intent toward you. I simply find your stubbornness terribly endearing. That’s right — who does the Divine Sovereign think he is? Giving him a good scolding is exactly what’s called for. I’m rooting for you!” Xinlan wore a smile on her face, looking every bit like someone who enjoyed stirring up chaos.

Ji Chengdao snorted coldly and paid her no attention, keeping his eyes fixed on the Divine Sovereign.

“You wish to fight me?” the Divine Sovereign spoke. His pupils abruptly turned many times colder, shooting out two terrifying beams of light that startled the crowd below into falling back in great swaths, their faces draining to snow-white. Quite a few of them were struck as if by lightning, coughing up large mouthfuls of blood.

What manner of terrifying power must this be? It was nothing more than a glance — yet it was like two great hammers of divine punishment wielded by a god of thunder, injuring a whole wave of Great Sages who had walked the Emperor’s Road.

“Correct!” Ji Chengdao stood there like a spear driven into the ground, his expression unchanged, battle-intent soaring to the heavens, his imposing aura climbing to the absolute peak.

“Very well then. Come sit beside me, and when the time comes in the future I will give you the opportunity to strike.” The Divine Sovereign spoke.

“Why would I sit beside you?!” Ji Chengdao was indignant.

“I mean it in goodwill. Those you have followed in the past were all useless deadweight who wasted much of your time. In the future I will personally instruct you.” The Divine Sovereign said this with an expressionless face, looking more and more like an ancient divine statue, enveloped in mist.

“You are not qualified to say such things.” Ji Chengdao’s face darkened.

“He is your uncle — he would not harm you. And I am your real auntie — I can guarantee it.” The Divine Race Celestial Maiden Xinlan said.

Everyone who heard this was startled, their hearts surging. Ji Chengdao’s mother was actually the blood sister of both the Divine Sovereign and Xinlan — for many people present, this was the first they had heard of it, and it felt utterly unbelievable.

“Your body flows with the supreme blood of my Divine Race. However, I sealed a fragment of the Divine Sovereign’s core within you in your childhood. Come with me back to the Divine Race — I will help you unlock it.” The Divine Sovereign said coldly and impassively.

“No need. My goal is to knock you down!” Clearly, Chengdao had long since guessed at their relationship. Though he had been shouting about fighting and killing, he still retained the very last shred of restraint.

“You are not ready. You were delayed far too long by a group of useless people. Follow by my side in the future — I will personally instruct you. In fifty years, you may fight me.” The Divine Sovereign spoke these words with not the faintest emotional inflection.

“Who do you think you are?!” Ji Chengdao was in no mood to accept this, and genuine anger rose in him. He had grown up under the guidance of his father and also the Black Emperor, Duan De, Dongfang Ye, Li Heishui, Ye Tong, and others — he would not tolerate anyone looking down on him.

“In my view, the so-called Celestial Court is nothing but a joke. True powerhouses stand alone — a single person breaking through the cosmos. All organizations are empty illusions.” The Divine Sovereign spoke calmly.

Nearby, one person’s face showed displeasure — a supreme powerhouse of the Celestial Court, referred to behind his back as the “Little Imperial Lord.” He was the youngest son of the Celestial Court’s Imperial Lord, and he too had walked this road. He felt that the Divine Sovereign’s sweeping criticism had cast too wide a net.

“Let’s not discuss such things for now. Today we are simply sitting together to talk matters over. Someone has invited us for divine tea. Child, come sit over by your auntie — don’t be cross.” As Xinlan said this, she moved toward Ji Chengdao.

At this moment, Emperor Tian rose to his feet, wearing a genial smile. Between his palm and fingers appeared a cluster of brilliant light. The instant it emerged, the Great Dao resounded with thunderous reverberations, and ten thousand types of Dao laws cascaded down, completely engulfing the entire platform — a sight that astonished all who witnessed it.

“The Origin of the Dao!” Below, many people cried out in shock, all of them gazing with wide, rapt eyes. This was absolutely a transcendent, heaven-defying treasure.

Especially now — as cultivation grew ever more difficult with each increase in realm — the primordial source recognized and generated by heaven and earth, bestowed upon exceptional individuals, revealed its value more and more with each passing era.

Before all those present lay a clear path: if one gained the recognition of heaven and earth, reaching the quasi-Emperor realm would become within reach, and one could step through that threshold with its aid.

“He truly has the Origin of the Dao!”

People marveled, envied, and burned with jealousy. Such a thing was extremely rare throughout all of history — difficult to encounter, impossible to seek — and was one of the most precious divine treasures in the eyes of all cultivators. Many people’s eyes turned red with longing.

Emperor Tian used the Origin of the Dao to brew tea in a jade green tiger-shaped flask. Tea fragrance drifted out and curled upward in wisps, and finally even the Origin of the Dao sank into the flask, nourishing and tempering the tea from within.

In the end, a translucent jade cup appeared on each stone table, its fragrance wafting outward invitingly, with ten thousand types of Dao laws nurturing within — merely looking at it made one feel as though one were about to sink into a state of Dao enlightenment.

“I am ashamed — over all these years, though I have obtained the Origin of the Dao, I have been unable to truly fuse it with my immortal platform. What a pity. I offer it here to brew tea for everyone to share.” Emperor Tian said.

The Origin of the Dao flew out of the jade flask, visibly dimmer than before. He collected it and it disappeared from sight.

Many people raised their cups. Even the Great Mighty Sacred Spirit and the Nine Tribulations Daoist were moved — such a thing was exceedingly rare, and they genuinely needed it.

Even Yao Guang and Yin Tiande revealed expressions of surprise, a flash of divine light flickering across their eyes before vanishing. Though they said nothing, a ripple had passed through their hearts.

Dongfang Ye, Li Heishui, and the others were seeing Yin Tiande for the first time, and each of them privately nodded in acknowledgment — this man was absolutely extraordinary.

He was not physically imposing, yet he possessed an innate resonance of the Dao, as though an immortal king had been reincarnated. And beneath his transcendent, aloof demeanor lurked a razor-sharp ferocity lying dormant, that inspired awe in all who perceived it.

“So this is Yin Tiande — back in the day, just as he became a King, he dared to stand against the Mortal King, the Ancient Clear Daoist, and several other fully-realized Great King powerhouses, all for the sake of a divine spirit’s ancient scripture. He even struck down the father of his own sworn brother Three-Deficiency Daoist without hesitation — domineering, ruthless, and decisive. He is a troublesome figure,” Li Heishui sighed quietly, feeling that this person was not someone to be provoked, absolutely a terrifying enemy.

On the ancient platform like a severed mountain, the fragrance of tea drifted and curled, carrying even to those standing far below, filling them with envy.

“Don’t drink it.” Just as many people were raising their cups, the Black Emperor’s voice was secretly transmitted into Ji Chengdao’s ears.

Little Chengdao’s heart gave a jolt. He naturally had no intention of drinking — he simply hadn’t expected the Black Emperor to be here. Deep within him, he felt intensely excited and energized.

The Black Emperor had witnessed everything that had just transpired. Given its personality, it naturally had to make some kind of gesture. Whether it was the Divine Sovereign, Yin Tiande, or Emperor Tian — all of them had rubbed it the wrong way.

There in a corner beneath the high platform, the Black Emperor fiddled with several jade basins, filled them with divine water, then cut open a sealed Origin of the Dao and threw the pieces into the basins.

It beckoned to Dongfang Ye, Li Tian, and Li Heishui, pointed at their large feet, then pointed at the jade basins.

“You really have no moral bottom, you know that? When those people find out, how are they going to live with themselves?”

At this moment, no one had yet noticed — for the Black Emperor and the others were in a corner behind the crowd, and they had activated the flawless Heaven-Deceiving Formation Runes. Everything had been proceeding in an extremely low-profile manner.