“Little De wanted a fight but didn’t want to die — so he left behind a Quasi-Emperor artifact as a means of escape. How generous.” The Black Emperor wiped at the corner of its mouth before the drool could fall any further.
Specks of violet shards drifted through the air like a shower of brilliant light, scattering across the cosmos. These were fragments of the Quasi-Emperor artifact — beautiful and flawless, yet each shard could pierce through and kill a Great Saint.
Everyone dodged away, terrified of being caught by even one. A single touch would leave a gaping bloody hole in one’s body, and the Quasi-Emperor Dao markings within would then grind the victim into a paste of blood and flesh.
“We cannot clash at the same realm — it will remain a regret. Let us make a pact to fight another day!” This was Yin Tiande’s voice. He disappeared through a Dao gateway carved with dense inscriptions — one utterly unlike the other spatial passages that existed.
To use a Quasi-Emperor artifact merely as a means of covering his retreat — it was an absurd extravagance. Others deemed it excessive beyond measure, yet he himself felt it was entirely worth it.
This had been a true and decisive collision. He had grasped the rhythm of Ye Fan’s Dao principles, gaining an understanding deep in his heart — when he reached the Quasi-Emperor realm, he would initiate a great confrontation between Divine Prohibitions.
The one thing that made him sigh was that Ye Fan had not deployed the Heavenly Emperor Fist when dealing with him and Yao Guang — it was only when shattering the Quasi-Emperor artifact that he had used it.
A good number of people let out a long breath of relief. Yin Tiande was a person who possessed the Divine Prohibition — were he to fall without ever having a same-realm clash, it would truly be a regret.
Because Ye Fan was too powerful. He had displayed an invincible will that could not be stopped. People now very much hoped that certain exceptional individuals would survive, in the hope that someday they might check him — or at least slow his advance, even if just by a little.
Otherwise, he seemed wholly without rival. No opponent remained. With his unstoppable advance, what Emperor Path, what peerless heroes of ten thousand clans — all would become a joke.
The gateway of light vanished. The various Quasi-Emperor inscriptions dimmed and faded away.
Ye Fan swept out his hand. The violet crystal rain that filled the sky gathered and converged into his palm — crystal clear and dazzling. He reforged it into a violet gourd.
He fixed his gaze on the direction where Yin Tiande had vanished, with some surprise. A Quasi-Emperor inscription gateway — one that severed all connections and separated itself from the surrounding space-time, cutting off all pursuit.
“I’ll give you this chance. A battle in the future — why not? I’ll wait for your return.” Ye Fan was not worried. Among this entire generation, he had never feared anyone. He had even slain the Heaven’s Son, whose talent and bloodline were first under heaven. Relying on talent and background alone was no longer enough to pressure him, and in personal cultivation, he feared no one.
The crowd was shaken. Ye Fan truly was invincible. The most powerful figures within the Fifth Emperor Gate had all failed to be his match. Who could oppose him? The rise of the Sacred Physique could no longer be stopped.
A battle of such magnitude had left the city utterly silent — not a sound. People’s hearts trembled. Not a single voice was raised.
The emotions of everyone present were extraordinarily complex. This was a road that filled them with despair. The Emperor Gate — all this fighting along the way, all this bloody battle, other people had been struggling for so many years. Yet in the end, Ye Fan had only come once, and already made people’s hearts grow cold with hopelessness.
His appearance meant no hope could be seen. Many people trembled inwardly. Three hundred years of struggle. Three hundred years of near ruin. And he had defied the heavens and survived, to become a Quasi-Emperor.
Ye Fan returned to the city. In the streets, one could hear a pin drop. What more could the remaining heroes say? Only a single sigh — how were they to resist him?
Certain individuals in particular — such as the youngest son of the Divine Court’s Emperor Lord, and the Nine Tribulations Daoist — had gone deathly pale. Thinking back on their earlier cold mockery and ridicule, they now realized they had been courting death.
Di Tian, Xin Lan, the Great Demon God, the Immortal Maiden Qingshi, and others fell even more silent. They were “old acquaintances,” yet now they could not match him — they could no longer keep pace with that man’s footsteps.
Now, what people needed to consider was no longer how to contend with Ye Fan for supremacy — rather they were wondering who in this age could even slow him down slightly. Yao Guang had been utterly defeated. Yin Tiande had fled. Both of the two greatest powers had failed to stop him. Who would dare step forward?
To everyone’s surprise, the Divine Lord was still on top of the Soaring Tower, still present, his face blank and expressionless.
“He… hasn’t left!”
Everyone was stunned. Was he actually going to fight Ye Fan? The Divine Clan was formidable — by legend and by past record, few clans in the cosmos could stand alongside them, let alone the supreme being of that clan.
Yet by all accounts, the Divine Lord had not yet become a Quasi-Emperor. Was he going to defy heaven, risking everything on one last desperate battle?
“You also want to make a move?” Li Heishui glared and called out sharply.
The Divine Lord gave him a cool glance and said nothing. Instead, he looked toward Ye Fan, his eyes showing no fear, no dread — utterly cold.
“There’s nothing else to say. Release Cheng Dao’s mother.” Ye Fan spoke.
Ji Cheng Dao clenched his fists, his face written all over with agitation. So many years had passed — there was not a moment he had not thought of his mother, longing to rescue her. Now his uncle-by-marriage had returned, so dominant and forceful, and it let him see hope at last.
To speak honestly, he very much wanted to beat up the man standing across from him — his nominal maternal uncle — but he also knew that at present he was no match for him.
“She is my younger sister. Naturally I will not allow her to suffer. But the Divine Clan is not mine alone to command — above me there is the Council of Supreme Elders.” The Divine Lord spoke indifferently, his face as expressionless as ever.
“In that case, I’ll have to pay the Divine Clan a personal visit.” The light in Ye Fan’s eyes surged, causing many Great Saints nearby to stumble backwards in alarm, each one trembling.
“As you wish.” The Divine Lord remained utterly calm.
Pang Bo broke into a grin and said, “Quite a backbone for someone in your position. Are you trying to fight Ye Fan, or are you just trying to show off your dignity?”
“I have suppressed myself far too heavily. I have no desire to fight right now.” The Divine Lord answered plainly and directly.
Everyone was momentarily stunned. Previously when he had arrived aboard the dragon-flood-dragon-drawn carriage, what supreme divine power he had radiated — how fearsome he had been, as though a supreme being had descended, giving all who saw him a first impression of someone proud beyond measure, the sort who would rather die in battle than retreat a single step.
Yet now, at this moment, his declaration was so straightforward and direct — disappointing quite a few people, to say the least.
However, many noticed that the Divine Lord was perfectly calm — not the slightest ripple of emotion stirred within him. It was as though all of this were entirely unrelated to him.
“You don’t want to fight, but you’re still not running?” The Black Emperor said with ill intent, eyeing him up and down to see if there was anything worth looting.
“Why would I run? He is a Quasi-Emperor. I acknowledge that even with every last resort exhausted, it would be impossible for me to defeat someone a full realm above me. Yet when I enter the Quasi-Emperor realm — which will take only a few years at most — I will seek a fair battle on equal footing.” His words were calm and composed.
Many were surprised. Others were moved. He was entirely unaffected — his Dao-heart like stone, steady and still. Let the east wind or the west wind blow — nothing could shake it.
He was truly a fearsome individual.
A Quasi-Emperor peer of the same generation stood before him, and he did not care in the slightest — still brimming with confidence.
Ye Fan laughed — relaxed and at ease — and walked forward. “There are some I give the chance to battle another day. But there are others I dislike — and I don’t mind erasing them right here and now.”
He spoke these words with a light and easy air, a wide smile on his face — and yet they made every person’s scalp go numb, cold air running up and down their spines. Many people regretted it now — why hadn’t they fled earlier? This man was a killing star.
BANG!
Ye Fan gave a light flick of his fingers — yet the finger force carried a weight of ten thousand times over. The Divine Lord went flying, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth, his body shaking violently without cease.
The crowd was horrified. They were stunned at Ye Fan’s invincible methods — even the Divine Lord could not resist. And they were equally astonished at the Divine Lord’s physical toughness — that had been a Quasi-Emperor’s strike, and yet he had not been pulverized, had not exploded apart.
“You may not consider it much that you made Hao Yue’s brother suffer for hundreds of years — but making a child go without a mother for all these years is something unforgivable.” Ye Fan’s voice turned cold. Every person present felt a wave of killing intent wash over them.
The Divine Lord rose to his feet. He straightened his back until it was perfectly upright. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his face an utter blank, and said nothing.
“Fellow Daoist, please stay your hand!” Xin Lan showed an expression of shock and alarm, fearing Ye Fan would kill the Divine Lord outright. She rushed forward and said, “Cheng Dao’s mother is our own younger sister — our eldest brother loves her most of all. He has never mistreated her, never harmed her in the slightest. It is only that he resents Ji Hao Yue for refusing to remain in the Divine Clan.”
Ye Fan paid her no mind. He spread all five fingers wide. A hurricane formed in that very spot, and the Divine Lord was swept along involuntarily, crashing forward — captured and pinned beneath Ye Fan’s palm.
Everyone was stunned. Hadn’t Ye Fan’s Dao been broken? Where had this black hurricane come from? Even after his Dao had been severed, he still possessed techniques like this!
To think — that was the Divine Lord. The same Divine Lord that Yin Tiande, who possessed the Divine Prohibition, could fight to a draw with in terms of strength. Yet now he was like a scarecrow, seized and captured by Ye Fan as though it were nothing.
The crowd fell silent with dread, feeling as though their entire bodies had gone cold, unable to say a word.
“Cheng Dao — how do you want to deal with him?” Ye Fan asked young Cheng Dao.
“I… I actually very much want to beat him up good.” In ordinary times, Cheng Dao’s hatred for the Divine Lord ran deep enough to tear him into ten thousand pieces — yet now that the moment had come to actually deal with him, he found he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Ye Fan smiled. “Then go ahead and beat him.”
He gave a light flick, and the Divine Lord’s blood throughout his entire body congealed. He was completely unable to move, standing bolt upright and rigid.
Ji Cheng Dao stepped forward. He circled around the Divine Lord once — this man, the peerless figure of the one true road who in ordinary times no one dared disrespect, now stood without the freedom to move.
“Properly speaking I ought to call you Uncle, but you’ve been too hateful. This punch is on behalf of my father!”
BANG! Ji Cheng Dao swung his bowl-sized fist and landed it squarely on the Divine Lord’s right eye. In an instant, the area around it turned a deep purple-black — a perfect panda eye.
Xin Lan covered her face, truly unable to watch. A nephew beating his maternal uncle — it was rare enough as it was, and from the looks of it, it wasn’t even done in genuine anger but more like mockery, which made her feel that hot flush of vicarious embarrassment on the Divine Lord’s behalf.
“This punch is on behalf of my mother!”
BANG! The Divine Lord’s left eye didn’t escape either. It was struck into a dark bruise as well — two symmetrical black-and-purple eyes, just like a giant panda reincarnated.
“I have no personal desire to hit you myself — this is my parents who want to hit you. I’m acting on their behalf, which means I haven’t been disrespectful at all.” Ji Cheng Dao said.
The crowd nearly fainted. Obviously you want to hit your uncle yourself — yet you say things like that.
Ji Cheng Dao looked at the Divine Lord’s swollen panda eyes, burst out laughing, stepped back a few paces, examined his handiwork at length, and then finally stopped — without going too far.
The Divine Lord’s mouth twitched. He could no longer remain calm. To actually be beaten black-and-blue by his own nephew!
Who was he? The supreme being of the Divine Clan. From the time he entered the world to this very day he had never suffered defeat. His talent was peerless throughout all under heaven. And today he had been made a laughingstock by this young fellow, beaten by his own nephew — it truly infuriated him beyond measure.
The Divine Lord wanted to roar out loud. To think that in the past, someone as powerful as Ji Hao Yue had been suppressed by him with barely a wave of his hand. Yet now his nephew had come — and this was the reversal that had befallen him.