The owner of the peacock and the owner of the golden chisel-beast were trembling all over with fury, the veins on their foreheads pulsing and jumping without stop. They had been driven to the point of bursting lungs by a bizarrely shaped crimson-scaled horse.
“You vile beast!”
One of them raged aloud. He opened his mouth and spat out a thumb-sized purple copper gourd, shimmering with translucent light. The stopper flew out on its own, and the mouth of the gourd opened up, swallowing heaven and earth — intending to draw Long Ma inside and reduce him to a pool of pus and blood.
“You think you can bully me?” Long Ma’s eyes went wide. One front hoof planted on the ground, and his entire body pivoted sideways in a spinning motion — just like a person executing a sweeping leg strike.
Every eye straightened. Long Ma’s rear hoof came down on the purple copper gourd, and the other rear hoof stamped squarely onto that person’s chest, sending him flying outright.
Everyone was dumbstruck. A ferocious beast that knows combat techniques — nothing can stop it. This great crimson horse used an unorthodox style: neither transforming into human form, nor unleashing divine abilities. He simply, cleanly kicked a master of cultivation into the air — enough to make everyone stare sideways.
Beside him, seeing what had happened, the owner of the golden chisel-beast also made his move. One arm transformed into a divine sword — a person’s limb becoming a weapon, strange and uncanny.
“Clang!”
Long Ma was ferocious. He reared up on his hind legs, one hoof slamming down on the gleaming blade, the other driving toward that person’s skull.
Everyone was at a loss. When other ferocious beasts unleash their power, it comes in the form of lightning, flames, and the like — a spectacle of great force and momentum. But this strange crimson-hued horse, wreathed in crimson haze, seemed to love brawling up close — like a street fighter picking a scuffle.
The owner of the golden chisel-beast fell back, swift as a ghost. But Long Ma was faster. His upright body didn’t come down. Standing on two hind legs, he moved like a bolt of crimson divine lightning, too fast for anyone to react.
The crowd was completely stunned. This horse simply could not be judged by ordinary standards.
What Long Ma had wheedled out of Ye Fan through relentless pestering was the Scriptural Art of Movement. Ten years of bloody warfare, advancing along the most treacherous ancient path through the stars, had allowed him to cultivate it to a level of divine perfection.
He had no interest in transforming into human form. Even in his true body, he could reach terrifying heights — and so he caught up with that man in an instant, both front hooves coming down together.
The owner of the golden chisel-beast’s face had turned green. A pair of plate-sized hooves bearing down — nearly impossible to dodge. With no other option, he tried to take it head-on.
Two sharp cracks rang out. Both his arms were broken. At the same time, a hoof struck him square in the chest, caving it inward deeply. He spat blood and was sent flying.
“A peerless ferocious beast!”
“What kind of horse is this? Surely it must have immortal blood flowing through it — a divine beast?”
Everyone was stunned. They hailed from different ancient stellar domains, and few among them recognized this as a dragon horse born of heaven and earth on the other shore of the star sea.
The monk from the Amitabha ancient stellar domain let a flash of sharp light cross his eyes. The birthmark on his face, like a sword scar, gleamed and rippled as he watched Long Ma for a moment.
Likewise, the brocade-robed young lord — said to be from the ancient Human King stellar domain — stared at Long Ma for a brief moment as well, then said nothing.
Ye Fan observed that a total of eight or nine people showed expressions of recognition — all of them the formidable cultivators who had each sat alone at their own table earlier. They seemed to have identified something.
The peacock’s owner came charging from behind without a sound, dissolving into a wisp of shadow. But at that very moment, Long Ma’s front hooves hit the ground and both hind legs kicked back with violent force. The crunching sound made bystanders’ teeth ache. The man let out a pained grunt, his chest caved in, and he dropped like a dead fish.
“You dare cause a scene in the city?!” The middle-aged Daoist nun shouted coldly, her eyes radiating icy light as she fixed her gaze on Ye Fan, crying out toward the soldiers in the distance, trying to use their authority to cut Ye Fan down.
“Please, everyone, calm yourselves. For this old one’s sake — could we not put down our weapons and make peace?” The owner of the great palace was deeply anxious and stepped forward to mediate.
“No. He has violated the city’s rules and must be punished — he should be executed!” Red Willow raised her voice, trying to blow the situation into a full-scale incident.
“How absurd. This started as a dispute between mounts. You, as their owners, chose to get involved. My horse had no choice but to act in self-defense.” Ye Fan said.
Many of those listening began to pick up on something. At first it seemed unremarkable — but the more they turned it over, the more offensive it sounded.
“What are you saying?” The peacock’s owner roared in fury, one hand pressed against his fractured chest, half his body soaked in blood.
“And what are you saying? If you want to argue reason, go argue it with my horse.” Ye Fan replied.
The faces of those gathered went frost-cold in an instant. Their eyes turned icy and dark. This was clearly mockery — implying that they were squabbling and brawling with a horse, making themselves no different from the mount. Were they not being lumped into the same category as a pack animal?
Long Ma held his massive head high. “I was acting in self-defense — and I even showed mercy. Otherwise, the lot of you would already be in pieces!”
The audacity of it — a horse claiming self-defense after nearly kicking two people to death. The sheer nerve was almost impossible to take in. Every one of the people on the opposing side looked like they wanted to eat Long Ma alive.
The storm never fully broke. Despite the middle-aged Daoist nun’s vicious intent and her attempts to have Ye Fan punished using the soldiers as a pretext, it came to nothing. In the end, the disturbance had been caused by Long Ma — implicating Ye Fan and eliminating him on those grounds was simply unrealistic. Moreover, the owner of the great palace was acquainted with two of the soldiers, and a brief explanation and a few words of mediation were enough for the matter to be smoothed over.
The middle-aged Daoist nun and her companions departed. They couldn’t bear to stay — Long Ma kept bellowing about “self-defense,” leaving them thoroughly humiliated, their faces burning.
Though this ancient city soared through the star-filled void rather than resting on solid ground, it still knew day and night. Facing the cosmos directly, it was breathtaking in its grandeur.
Come evening, starlight cascaded down like a waterfall, dispersing the last of the sunset — a scene utterly unlike anything one would witness on a life-bearing star.
“Tomorrow the trial grounds will open. Everyone, prepare yourselves!”
At last, the official announcement came through. Every cultivator who had walked the ancient path through the stars felt a tremor in their chest. It was finally beginning.
Ye Fan’s brow furrowed slightly. Word had reached certain people before the official announcement was even made. It seemed that no matter where one went, injustice always found a way in.
Before the last faint traces of the setting sun had faded, Rui Wei came to find him, bringing news that did not bode well.
“That Daoist nun has been moving constantly today, rallying people to her cause. She’s telling everyone that you are the saint-killer, and that you must be eliminated in the trial grounds.”
“Then she must be tired of living.” Ye Fan replied with complete calm.
“She truly has convinced a group of cultivators — over twenty people. And if that terrifying Lord of Junwei Mountain were to make a move, given his fearsome influence, I have no doubt even more would join in.”
“Anyone who has walked the ancient path through the stars is hardly a fool. They know perfectly well whether I’m the assassin or not. If they truly come after me, that only means they’re using this as a pretext to eliminate me — which is fine. Better to draw in all those who are hostile to me early, and cut them down in one sweep.”
Rui Wei’s face clouded with worry. He feared for Ye Fan. These were all heroes who had walked the trial path — champions of their respective domains. Even if Ye Fan was powerful, could he really withstand an onslaught of wolves and tigers in such numbers?
The night was quiet. All who had come from distant domains sat in meditation, settling their minds within the unfamiliar ancient city, awaiting the moment the gates of the trial opened.
At the break of dawn, a war horn sounded — vast and ancient and far-reaching, as though it had traveled across the ages, like the battle cries of the earliest human ancestors echoing from a time beyond memory.
Every person rose to their feet without a word and made their way in silence toward the central plaza, a sea of dark figures pressing together, shoulder to shoulder.
Atop the high platform, the Escorting Envoy appeared once more — his silhouette still blurred, the space where he stood warped and unreal, as though he weren’t fully there. Only his eyes were visible, blazing like golden lanterns, bright enough to sting.
“This is the horn that rang out as the ancestors of the human race opened up the cosmos and fought wars along the borders of existence. Listen well — every one of you!” For the first time, the Escorting Envoy’s voice carried a note of genuine severity.
That ancient horn still sounded, carrying with it the breath of a savage primordial world — as though they had been transported to a time when ferocious creatures ruled the land and the world was impossibly hostile.
The horn fell silent. The Escorting Envoy spoke: “There is only one purpose for entering the trial grounds today — to attain the profound truths of the Great Dao of that world. If you lack the insight for it, stop here.”
His words, as ever, were few. He vanished from the stone platform, unwilling to say more, unwilling to explain anything further to those assembled.
Even those who felt discontent dared not complain. To anger the city lord would likely mean never leaving this place alive.
“I will lead you on the path. Follow me!” A great celestial wolf appeared, a man seated upon it — clad in iron armor, his bearing martial and striking, his temples flecked with gray.
This was the commanding general who guarded the great city — an ancient saint, separated from full sainthood by only the narrowest of margins, one of three great powerhouses serving beneath the Escorting Envoy.
Behind him followed twenty soldiers, their armor ancient and rough, their iron garments cold and forbidding, each bearing a long halberd or iron spear — killing intent flooding the open air.
These were all people who had once failed. They had walked the ancient path through the stars, pushing deep into the distance, storming past countless barriers — only to ultimately be defeated by the unparalleled heroes of their own era.
Each one of them wore a solemn expression. Together with the commanding general, they would escort everyone on the road ahead, into the trial grounds.
A bolt of lightning slashed the sky and the void cracked open, revealing high above the plaza an extraordinary altar — vast beyond measure, large enough for every person present to stand upon without crowding.
The trial participants spoke not a word. The commanding general began to chant ancient syllables — using an incantation to activate the great teleportation array inscribed upon the altar.
Boom!
A tremendous beam of light burst forth, piercing through the cosmos, tearing open a broad spatial corridor that led toward an unknown shore.
“Move out!”
Majestic as a heavenly general, the commanding general spurred his celestial wolf and was the first to enter the spatial corridor. The four hundred or so cultivators followed close behind. At the rear, the twenty soldiers brought up the formation.
This was a singular ancient road — connecting to some unknown stellar domain. People felt time unravel around them, as though an instant had stretched across a hundred years, or ten thousand ages had rushed by in a heartbeat.
Occasionally, the walls of the corridor turned transparent, and through them one could see domain after domain being left behind — they were piercing through the cosmos, traveling to places of unimaginable distance.
No one knew how long passed. Then all at once, everyone lurched — and they burst from the corridor into the frozen expanse of the cosmos, having reached the end.
Starlight glittered, pure as water. They had traveled an unimaginable distance from the First City of the Human Race — separated by an unknown number of stellar domains.
Someone cried out in astonishment. Just ahead of them was an enormous island — not a star, not an asteroid, but a vast and mysterious isle of incomprehensible scale.
It dwarfed even an ancient star in breadth. It exuded a presence of boundless age — the weight of eons and countless catastrophes endured — standing unmoving here, leaving to later generations endless legend.
“This island is a place where the ancestors of the human race once fought in blood. No one knows how many supreme masters fell here. Among them were several… well — you will understand when you go in. All you need to do is experience that timeless and unchanging supreme Dao. If you lack the insight for it, then there is no need to continue on the road ahead.”
Clearly, this was an ancient island with stories beyond counting. It was said to have originated in the age of myth, endured through all the ages of time, and now only broken, fragmentary legends remained.
Its form was irregular — utterly unlike any celestial body in the cosmos — and by all logic it had no right to exist. Yet it had never been destroyed, enduring to the present day.
A cluster of cold, piercing gazes swept over him — enough to raise the hackles on one’s back. Ye Fan turned. He saw the middle-aged Daoist nun, Red Willow, Blue Maple, and a group of others — fully twenty or thirty people gathered together.
Farther away, the Thirteen Riders of the Primordial Wasteland were also watching with cold eyes, each of them radiating open killing intent.
Once they entered the great island, battle would be unavoidable.