A hundred years slipped by in a flash. In the mortal world, an entire generation had turned to dust, and the passage of time had worn away many things. Ye Fan still had not appeared. It was as though he had vanished into thin air, as though he could never return — there had not been a single piece of news about him all this while.

Many heaved long sighs. Had he simply faded into oblivion? After a hundred grueling years of endurance, he had ultimately been unable to defy the heavens after all.

In the hundredth year, Ye Fan did not appear as promised — a source of deep regret and sorrow for all. Everyone knew how formidable a competitor he had been on the path to becoming an emperor, with boundless potential. And yet, crushed beneath the immense pressure of the Ancient Supremes, something had gone terribly wrong.

Some were glad; some were grieved — naturally, those of different allegiances reacted differently.

“Ha ha…” The veteran Killing Saint Qi Luo laughed bitterly through his tears. This outcome was too cruel. The forces of the Heavenly Court had endured a hundred years of humiliation and hardship, waiting for the day Ye Fan would return — never imagining it would end like this.

“Master!” Little Song’s eyes reddened. He stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing out into the stellar river. Around him, pines swayed and rustled in the wind, and large drops of tears rolled down his face.

“Has he just died like that?” From the Underworld, a cold, detached voice emerged from within the vast dark earth, drifting out from the Hall of the Prison Lord.

“What a pity,” someone sighed lightly from within the Dao Palace.

“Has he truly failed? That saves me some trouble,” a cold and merciless voice echoed through the void above the ancestral star of the Heavenly Hegemon Bloodline.

A hundred years of waiting. A hundred years of desperate longing. A hundred years of silence — all ending like this, quietly and without fanfare, without so much as a single ripple.

All in all, Ye Fan’s influence in the universe could be considered immense. An entire generation had been shaped by him — battling Ancient Supremes, fighting through dark and turbulent upheaval, leaving behind a resounding legacy of glory.

His failure, his quiet exit from the stage, left many hearts heavy with sorrow. Quite a few young people had once taken him as their goal, their inspiration — only to now watch that figure fall.

This was the end of an era. The brilliant age that had belonged to Ye Fan had drawn to its close.

“You said you would come back. That was the promise you made to me.” Atop a mountain peak, vast stretches of snow-orchid trees swayed in the breeze, scattering great drifts of pristine white petals. Ji Ziyue’s face was streaked with tears, her heart shrouded in quiet desolation.

She did not sob aloud — yet the tears fell in silence, one after another. Having lived through too many separations and losses, her endurance had grown strong. But even so, the ache in her heart was unbearable.

“Ye Fan, you bastard — get back here right now! If you die like this, can you face Ziyue? Can you face all of us brothers?!” Pang Bo roared.

“Ye Fan! How did you promise your brothers back then? That you would absolutely return in a hundred years — we don’t hope for you to break through, we just want you to be alive!” Li Heishui also howled toward the heavens, tears streaming down his face.

Inside a sealed chamber, a soul lamp had been kept. Many came rushing in to see for themselves.

“It’s broken,” the Holy Imperial Prince sighed.

When people heard these words, they staggered as though struck by lightning, their faces draining of color. Was there truly not even a shred of hope?

“He shattered it himself before he left,” the Black Emperor said.

Before departing, Ye Fan had secretly crushed his own soul lamp, so that no one would know of his fate in the years to come. Why had he done so? Perhaps he had already foreseen the ending — and without a soul lamp, he could at least leave everyone a measure of hope.

“How could that bastard do this? He promised he’d come back — he promised!” Pang Bo bellowed, then clutched his head and sank down to the ground, tears falling without stop.

He and Ye Fan had come from the same place. They had been through life and death together, weathered countless hardships, seen blood and bone, and fought their way to this day — and now, to be separated by death was something he could not accept.

The turmoil was far from over. A hundred years had passed, and the various divisions of the Heavenly Court were restless and uneasy, each and every one of them. They had waited far too long — and now that the appointed date had arrived, Ye Fan had not appeared.

The outside world was rife with rumors, and on one point nearly all of them agreed: Ye Fan had failed. He had died on the road to becoming an emperor, his soul returned to the earth, and there was no possibility he would ever come back alive.

“How can this be? We don’t believe it!”

“Didn’t we promise that the day the Heavenly Court’s banner would be raised again? We were to campaign across the Nine Heavens — even the Life Forbidden Zones were not our final destination; we were to march into the Immortal Domain, with a vast and glorious battle map awaiting us — how can it end like this?!”

The Heavenly Court had dozens of battle divisions, each with tens of thousands of soldiers. A hundred years had passed, and they had begun to reconvene — but now it had all come to nothing, leaving only hollow sorrow.

“I was still looking forward to it — what a pity. Turns out he was short-lived. No chance to take his head now. Ha ha ha…” someone laughed beneath the stars.

And moreover, that laughter rang out from within the former headquarters of the Heavenly Court — a place long since fallen into ruin, abandoned and empty, with only its vast, desolate halls remaining.

All these years, figures had continued to emerge from the great Life Forbidden Zones — mounts of Ancient Supremes, former personal guards, descendants of bloodlines — each with a staggering identity.

After the Black Emperor, Ye Tong, Yang Xi, and the others had slain the Heaven-Slaughter Ferocious Beast, there had been a period of quiet. But once they went back into seclusion, the calm did not last — and in these years, unrest had returned.

“So you’re a fellow practitioner from the Sea of Reincarnation, here to reflect on things in solitude, are you? The Lord of Reincarnation from your lineage has already fallen — they say that over four hundred years ago, the Holy Body Ye Fan, though not yet at full strength, played a certain role in that outcome,” a woman said, arriving beneath the stars. She was not particularly beautiful, but carried herself with an otherworldly grace. At the center of her brow, a third vertical eye had grown — and the aura she emanated was oppressive.

“The Ruins of the Gods doesn’t have it much better — even the Thunder God Prince who emerged from there later was killed in battle,” the young man from the Sea of Reincarnation said, turning to face her. “You must be the Ruins Woman from back then?”

“That’s me. And you must be Wangsheng of the Sea of Reincarnation?” the woman asked with an air of calm detachment.

“Indeed. I take it you’re not looking to fight me?” Wangsheng replied.

The Ruins Woman said, “Why would I come after you? I’ve heard that three elder figures have joined forces and are calling themselves the Three Gods Beyond the World — they’re currently searching for the whereabouts of the Chaos Body. We can’t afford to be idle either.”

Wangsheng smiled at that and said, “I also wish to make a move. I’ve heard the Heavenly Court has considerable hidden depth. What if you and I joined together and shattered that lineage completely?”

“My thoughts exactly. With the Holy Body Ye Fan gone, I think it’s time for that sect to be reduced to ashes entirely. I despise that name!” the Ruins Woman said.

“Indeed. I hate that name as well. With the great lords unable to emerge, it falls to us to sweep them away.” Wangsheng smiled, his snow-white teeth glinting with cold light.

“Once this matter is settled, the universe should be clean at last — and by then, another path to immortality should be just about ready to open. I hope it is real this time, that we might truly behold the Immortal Domain.” The Ruins Woman smiled, though the light in her eyes was deeply unsettling.

From that day onward, disciples from several of the Forbidden Zones came together, forming an alliance. They intended to hunt down and kill Ye Tong, Little Song, Yang Xi, and all the others — to uproot the Heavenly Court entirely.

This was a terrifying decision and a fearsome alliance. Each of these individuals had a staggering background, and though their number was small, together they were enough to sweep across the universe — few could stand against them.

“The Golden Lion Battle Division has been annihilated — wiped out clean. Only the Lion King was pushed through a domain gate by his troops at the last moment, barely surviving. Over ten thousand soldiers were slaughtered to the last.”

The Black Emperor’s face turned grimly dark. Upon receiving this terrible news, it nearly leaped to its feet, on the verge of summoning all the quasi-emperors to strike back at once.

But it restrained itself. This was the enemy’s provocation — the alliance of Forbidden Zone disciples was forcing them to show themselves. By slaughtering so ruthlessly, they were trying to drive the Heavenly Court’s key figures out into the open.

“The Scorpion Division has also been wiped out!” This time it was even more total. Even the Scorpion Saint who had once followed Ye Fan on the Ancient Road of Stars had perished — the Prince of Reincarnation from the Sea of Reincarnation had shattered his skull with a single grasp, destroying both body and soul.

This was a bloody massacre, one that enraged the forces of the Heavenly Court.

They had already been holding back. A hundred years had passed. They had scattered in all directions, keeping the lowest of profiles — and now people were still coming for them, intent on hunting every last one of them down.

“Only a few battle divisions have regrouped by now — and this is how they’re being wiped out,” Ye Tong said in a low voice.

“Order them to endure and not gather together. The enemy is too powerful, and now is not the time to clash head-on,” the Black Emperor said, swallowing a mouthful of blood through sheer force of will.

Two battle divisions — tens of thousands of soldiers — had been wiped out just like that. The rage burning in their hearts was scorching, and they longed to charge out and kill then and there.

“But the brothers are at the breaking point — they can’t stand it. They want to raise the Heavenly Court’s banner again, to reunite the war generals of old, and avenge those who have died!” Yang Xi said. The Heavenly Court’s dozens of battle divisions — hundreds of thousands of elite soldiers in all — were furious. Even though they were scattered across the cosmos, upon receiving the news they had begun to regroup, intent on taking action.

“And that’s precisely what those people from the Forbidden Zones want — are we going to play right into their hands?” the Black Emperor said, its voice cold. Killing intent rolled off it in waves. Then it lifted its gaze to the heavens and said, “Don’t forget — this is the hundredth year. There’s still one more year remaining. The hundred-and-first year hasn’t come yet.”

“Master… can he still come back?” Ye Fan’s several disciples’ voices trembled. These past days their hearts had been burning with anxiety, filled with grief — yet they could not show it, for all manner of battles still had to be faced.

“Wait. Tell them — endure one more year. If Ye Fan is dead, this emperor will risk everything, take them, and turn this universe upside down with killing!” the Black Emperor vowed fiercely.

It must be said that the Black Emperor did carry a certain authority. Having once followed the Beginningless Great Emperor, when it grew serious, the war generals of the various divisions were all slightly in awe of it.

“Very well — we endure! We wait for the day the Heavenly Court’s banner is raised again!” Many battle divisions, enduring the anguish of blood and loss, responded.

“We know ourselves — we are not a match for the Forbidden Zone disciples. We hope our Heavenly Court’s quasi-emperors will lead us out to fight soon. Since we must still endure, we obey!”

They held back, unwilling and aggrieved, waiting for the order.

“Is that so? Several Forbidden Zone disciples have united and want to uproot the Heavenly Court. Very well — let the descendants who carry the Heavenly Hegemon Bloodline go out too, join them in battle, and wipe them clean for me!”

On that day, several figures emerged from the Hegemon Body Ancestral Star. Though not possessing the pure Hegemon Blood, they were fearsome beyond measure — and two of them had broken free from the ancestral cave, where they had long been sealed.

“The commander of the Immortal Crane Battle Division was struck down. He had not yet regrouped his division — he was simply discovered, and those who carry Hegemon Blood cut him down into a paste of blood and flesh!”

When this news reached the Heavenly Court, all of its divisions erupted in fury. Thirty years earlier, they had once vented their wrath and slain the mount of the fully accomplished Hegemon Body, displaying their might to the universe — little had they imagined that this clan would move again, slaying their finest.

“One battle division, unable to hold back, activated their incomplete emperor formation and struck — but it failed. The Hegemon Bloodline people destroyed them utterly. Over twelve thousand brothers perished, their blood dyeing the stars red.”

Upon receiving this news, the Black Emperor exploded with rage. A single great howl shattered the hall, and it reared upright on its hind legs. In this time alone, tens of thousands of Heavenly Court soldiers had been slaughtered — not fallen in the glorious battles of former days, but driven to their deaths on their own doorstep, killed with contemptuous ease by those who came calling.

“To humiliate my Heavenly Court and slay my comrades — this debt of blood must be repaid!” the Black Emperor swore. It began accelerating its preparations, arranging an even more fearsome formation of Great Emperor-level inscription patterns.

At the edge of the universe, atop a chaos stone, a white-haired man lay draped across it. His hair was snow-white, his body long since drained of its luster — sallow and dry, bones pressing visibly against skin through a frail shell, utterly spent and withered. There was not the slightest trace of life or vitality about him. He appeared as though he had been dead for ten thousand years.