The Celestial Court was dissolved. The soldiers and generals laid down their arms and returned to ordinary life, releasing the horses to southern pastures. A mighty inheritance became a thing of the past just like that — when the news broke, no one believed it, everyone convinced it was a fabrication.
But in this world nothing is truly impossible, and time illuminates all things. The truth could not remain hidden. The Celestial Court had truly collapsed — scattered and gone in a single day.
Those powerful figures, those celestial generals — one by one they rode across the stars and departed, scattering in all four directions. Some vanished into mountain forests. Some headed for the desolate fringes of the cosmos. Others entered ancient battlefields.
Such a great Celestial Court, crumbled just like that — it defied belief. Every person found it incomprehensible. Why? What had happened?
Ye Fan’s extraordinary power was known throughout the world. He was called the unrivaled master of his era — one who could soar through the Great Void at will, who could kill the patriarchs of the major powers with a single thought. And yet he had made this decision. It was absurd beyond measure.
“Has he gone mad? To dissolve the Celestial Court — his mind must have broken during cultivation. Something must have gone wrong with his spirit.”
The entire cosmos buzzed with discussion. It was an enormous upheaval, with implications too vast to measure. The Celestial Court had dismantled itself — no major power had ever done such a thing.
There are no walls without cracks. When the truth spread, some rejoiced and some mourned. Every reaction was different. Without question, the Celestial Court became the greatest topic of conversation across the cosmos.
And some major powers moved swiftly — recruiting the Celestial Court’s people. Everyone knew these former members were the finest and most elite, undefeated in every battle, sweeping all before them year after year.
The myriad domains of the world fell into chaos — a clamor of noise from every direction.
“Take care of yourself.”
Ji Ziyue saw him off, tears in her eyes. She knew — Ye Fan’s departure was something that not even “nine chances in ten of death” accurately described. No matter how she looked at it, there was no way home.
“I won’t die.”
Ye Fan gently wiped away her tears, which broke the heart of all who saw it. Everyone knew he was going to fight with his very life — the path ahead was dark, with no hope visible on the horizon.
Not far away, others had come to see him off.
“Ye Fan — take care. Don’t push yourself too hard.”
Pang Bo and the others had reddened eyes, tigers’ eyes that had filled with tears. They feared losing a dear brother — feared this might be the last time they ever saw him.
“The Celestial Court’s banner will fly again — and I will see you all on that day. Sooner or later, we will enter the immortal domain together!”
Ye Fan clenched his fist and swung it with force, his voice ringing with conviction.
“Honestly — we only hope you come back alive.”
Li Heishui’s voice was low and thick, his eyes red. The others felt the same — utterly bereft.
“Master!”
Ye Tong, Little Song, Hua Hua, Yang Xi, and all the rest pressed forward, reluctant to let go — a parting of the living that cut like something final, grief welling up from nowhere.
“You must all protect yourselves. Once I begin enduring my tribulation, you will be in danger — guard yourselves well.”
Ye Fan urged them.
The Dark Emperor stepped forward, his expression heavy: “Don’t worry. With me here, nothing will happen to any of them. The Deceiving Heaven Formation Patterns have been brought to full completion — after all these years of searching, every piece of true divine material has been gathered. It will shield them from Supreme Being calamity.”
Ye Fan turned resolutely and stepped onto his path.
“Ye Fan — you have to come back!”
Ji Ziyue called after him.
“I will — this is a promise. I will come back alive to see you.”
Ye Fan still had things to attend to. Those children had to be sent somewhere safe. They were the Celestial Court’s hope, representing its future — he was unwilling to stake everything on the Dark Emperor’s formation patterns alone.
Even if something went wrong, he needed every one of these children to survive.
The stars sparkled above, beautiful and brilliant. Ye Fan walked across the sky, moving through ancient and uncharted regions of the cosmos. No one could know his route — these things could not be revealed.
“Father — Xiao Zi misses you. And she misses Mother too.”
These were her last words before she sank into slumber. Her small face was streaked with tears, and she looked so pitiable, curled up in Ye Fan’s arms.
The sight broke Ye Fan’s heart — tears nearly slid from his eyes. He carried Xiao Zi to the interior of an uninhabited star — a vast and tremendous source vein running through it, commanding the creative power of heaven and earth, capable of keeping her safe for one hundred years without harm.
Source patterns spread across the space in every direction, sealing it shut.
“Child — do not blame your father. If I am dead when one hundred years have passed, the formation patterns will shatter, and they will find you and bring you home.”
Ye Fan turned and left.
He pressed on to the next place — using his source arts that could command the creative power of heaven and earth to seek out those kinds of extraordinary locations, using them to seal away the Celestial Court’s children.
By now, his source arts were already unprecedented and unmatched across all history — surpassing the ancestral masters of every generation of source arts practitioners, elevated to absolute perfection, taking this domain of skill to entirely new heights.
Today, the Celestial Court possessed a scripture called the Source Celestial Sutra — written by Ye Fan himself, left for future generations to study and cultivate.
Ye Fan pressed on, one location after another. With each stop, the vessel held fewer children — until all of them had been sealed away. Every place he chose was extraordinary beyond measure. He even found half of a Creation Source Eye.
Long ago, the Undying Celestial Emperor had left a Creation Source Eye to the Celestial Prince — and the world had marveled at it.
Over all these years, Ye Fan had only managed to find this half — and it was called “half” because it had not yet fully become a true Creation Source Eye, only possessing that quality. Even so, it was remarkable.
“Big Uncle — when are you coming to get us?”
“Sob… I want Mama…”
“Uncle — I don’t want to sleep. I want to go home.”
The older children were strong and held it together. The little girls only a few years old wept and sniffled — and Ye Fan fell silent alongside them, aching and reluctant. But he could only bring himself to seal them away regardless.
These extraordinary places would be enormously beneficial to the children’s development — even setting aside the question of safety, it was worth doing.
“After so many years of accumulation, even the Celestial Court’s divine source liquid is running low.”
Ye Fan murmured quietly.
Even with his source arts towering to the heavens, even searching everywhere, it was difficult in this age to find more divine source liquid. Only a small amount existed — barely enough to serve the purpose. All of it had been located in small worlds or within the sealed ancient caves of former masters.
At last, it had come to this. Ye Fan had set out on a solitary and lonely road.
From that day forward, many of the Celestial Court’s key figures vanished one by one, swallowed by the vast cosmos. Of course, some figures remained active — still competing in the world.
“To think even the Holy Body has come to this point. I don’t fancy his chances at all. The Perfect Tyrant Body is still alive — the moment he endures a tribulation, he’ll be found for certain.”
“The Ancient Celestial Court’s First Divine General can protect him for a moment, but not forever.”
People of all kinds had their say. Those who stood on the Celestial Court’s side existed alongside those who held it in contempt — especially those remnant forces Ye Fan had once defeated, who were now beside themselves with excitement.
“What do you all understand? In this age, the Holy Body is destined to defy the heavens, to shatter the curse of never becoming an Emperor, and create the most glorious generation in all of history!”
“Very well — we’ll wait and see. We’re watching to see how he faces down the Supreme Beings when they come for him.”
The cosmos seethed with debate. In the stretch of time that followed, everyone in the universe was talking about Ye Fan — watching his movements, waiting for the outcome.
And yet he seemed to simply disappear. From that day onward, he never appeared again — sinking into complete silence.
A topic cannot hold the world’s attention forever. After a few years, people began turning their attention to other things — though deep in their hearts, they still cared about the result, and were still waiting to see the outcome.
Time moved quickly. In the blink of an eye, thirty years had passed. In all that time, Ye Fan had not appeared once — like a clay ox walking into the sea, not a single person had laid eyes on him.
People began to suspect he had met with disaster — that the Perfect Tyrant Body or a Supreme Being from the Underworld had struck him down ahead of time.
Others believed he was on the verge of a breakthrough — since he only had a hundred years.
Leaving aside the final great Emperor’s Tribulation, the first two were already catastrophic in themselves. They had to be conquered at the cost of blood and bone. After thirty years with nothing to show for it, regardless of the reason, the first tribulation should have been survived by now — otherwise there was simply no way he could manage the remaining two within his hundred-year window.
“I no longer believe he can do it. Throughout history, how many dazzling and brilliant geniuses have been deemed peerless and unmatched by their generation — only to fall short in the end, leaving the world to sigh in lament? I think another tragedy is being added to that count.”
Another ten years passed. The cosmos still showed no sign of any terrible tribulation.
By this point, many people had come to realize that something had likely gone very wrong. In principle, Ye Fan should have endured his tribulation by now — otherwise he truly had no chance at all.
A frightening stillness — no tribulation punishment appeared anywhere in the world.
It had to be understood: when the Holy Body Ye Fan reached the final few thresholds, once they appeared, his aura could not possibly be hidden. It would inevitably shake the world — too vast and too terrifying to conceal.
More and more people became convinced that something unexpected had befallen him.
In the blink of an eye, forty-five years had passed — not a short span of time. The cosmos had changed. Some old and powerful figures had passed away in meditation; new brilliant talents had been born.
On this particular day, in the Northern Sea of the Purple Subtle Star Domain, a great disturbance suddenly erupted, causing an uproar. Someone had spotted Ye Fan there. This news crashed through the cosmos like a thunderbolt — people sought confirmation from every direction, some going in person to see for themselves.
For all these years, even if people had stopped speaking of it, they had all been waiting for the outcome — waiting to see how far a man who sought to defy the heavens had come.
But it was a pity. People arrived too late. Only a portion of those in the Purple Subtle Star Domain had seen Ye Fan — he had vanished from there quickly, setting off alone again, walking his solitary road.
“Is it really true? Could someone be impersonating him?”
“Absolutely certain — no mistaking it. He went to the burial ground of the Solar Sacred Emperor!”
“How did he look?”
“He seemed… not well. White hair all scattered, clearly showing the marks of age.”
When this news emerged, the world was thrown into an uproar. Ye Fan’s vital energy was as vast as a sea — few in the current age could compare to him. A cultivator of his level had a lifespan of nearly ten thousand years at minimum. How could he have aged?
“Forty-five years and not a single tribulation endured — and now he appears aged and decrepit. Something has definitely gone wrong with his cultivation.”
“Exactly right — one cannot rush the Dao. What a pity for one of the age’s greatest talents. The way he’s going, he will ruin himself.”
Many let out long sighs.
After further confirmation, people were certain: the person who had appeared in the Northern Sea of the Purple Subtle Star Domain was indeed Ye Fan, no imitation. The result left many feeling moved and melancholy.
Cultivation is a gradual process — it cannot be forced. It must be taken one step at a time. The Dao follows nature — one cannot push hard against it, or the path itself will bring catastrophe and death.
A few more years came and went. The setting sun stained the sky with blood.
At a distant frontier of the cosmos, a solitary figure walked forward in solitude.
This was now the fiftieth year. Half of the hundred years had already passed. Ye Fan had still not endured a tribulation — and now he had been spotted again.
“The Holy Body Ye Fan has appeared again. He’s on an ancient road that the Yin Emperor of Great Mystery once walked. His body truly seems to be failing him — he grows more aged by the day.”
“If a Holy Body’s vital energy withers, can one still be called a Holy Body? This kind of constitution — once it enters its twilight years — will lose the glory of its invincibility.”
“What has happened to him? What has caused him to lose so much of his lifespan?”
People’s hearts were filled with questions.
And yet once again, as before, when more cultivators rushed to the spot, Ye Fan had already vanished — setting out on the road alone once more, pressing forward in solitude.
Many were disappointed. The way things were going — did anyone even need the ancient Supreme Beings to act? Ye Fan had walked himself onto a terrifying path of ruin, advancing along a road half-broken before it had truly begun.