At dawn, some people stood upon blue stone slabs while others sat cross-legged on ceremonial platforms, drawing in the essence of heaven and earth. Column after column of white qi sprayed from their mouths and nostrils, producing sounds like thunder.
In the Human Race’s Tenth Holy City, even children understood some basic methods of qi refinement. Among the native inhabitants were many skilled practitioners who cultivated without pause.
The streets of the Tenth City were wide, paved with blue stone. At this hour, a surge of hoofbeats — like a mountain torrent bursting forth or ocean waves crashing in succession — rang out in rapid urgency, spreading through the entire ancient road.
Morning radiance spilled brilliantly across the entire city. In the freshness of early dawn, a vast number of cultivators set out, heading toward the life-bearing planet below.
There were many cultivators who had been lingering here. By conservative estimate there were several thousand, all of them possessed of extraordinary ability, some unfathomably deep in their cultivation.
Some had never been defeated since first setting foot upon the ancient stellar path, earning the title of kings among men. They had been remaining here without moving on, hoping to obtain a heaven-defying opportunity.
Ye Fan sat astride Long Ma, moving through the crowd toward the main square. People and ancient beasts moved all around, their auras of blood and qi blotting out the sun.
With so many powerful figures gathered in one place, the square of the Tenth City was shrouded in a solemn stillness, a surging war intent billowing outward — as though a million lions had converged, shaking the entire universe.
“Take care with everything — I need say nothing more than that!” The Summoning Envoy commanded someone to lift the ancient city’s sealing formation. Squad after squad of cultivators ascended toward the sky, passing through the formation array and emerging into outer space.
Savage beasts, ancient birds, and great numbers of powerful figures — all distinguished and formidable, yielding to no one — marched toward the mysterious ancient land.
RUMBLE!
Like a torrent of steel, the entire vast sky shuddered. A host of iron cavalry trod through the open heavens with a thunderous crash, making everyone’s hearts and spirits tremble.
This convergence of heroes was the first time in all these years that so many had marched forth with a single unified purpose. Like a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers and divine generals unleashed from their gates, they descended upon the ancient star below, the clouds and mists they stirred through mingling with the resonance of the Dao — a scene of breathtaking grandeur.
Billowing clouds and mist bore one mount after another downward, powerful fluctuations spreading in all four directions. Not a single group among them could be considered ordinary.
So many powerful figures of the human race descending, treading through open sky — it naturally alarmed many of the powerful creatures below, who all watched with keen and close attention, their eyes hiding the glimmer of killing intent.
The mountains and rivers grew ever more distinct. Demonic peaks soared into the clouds, wreathed in heavy mist and haze. Scattered across this region, several skeletal palace halls could be seen, with turbulent waves of baleful energy rolling upward from them.
“This is the domain of a wild fox that has cultivated for several thousand years. It has devoured many invading trial participants and its power is unfathomably deep — to this day, no one is willing to provoke it lightly.”
Clearly this was a forbidden domain. According to rumours, the wild fox was most likely a Sacred Beast King who had cultivated the Ten Heavens Eight Wastelands Ten Thousand Demons Formula, reigning supreme over this region, its dominance unshaken for thousands of years.
When their cultivation was insufficient to match it, most cultivators were unwilling to provoke it — they guided their mounts around this forbidden land, heading toward regions further in the distance, penetrating deep into the mountain ranges.
Once past this region, where the altitude dropped somewhat lower, the sounds of apes crying and tigers roaring rose from the primordial wilderness below, shaking the ears.
Down below, the mountain ranges were verdant and lush, with ancient trees soaring to the sky. Some ancient vines — no one knew how many years they had been growing — twisted like crouching dragons, winding around several mountain peaks simultaneously and sprawling across them.
“ROARRR…!”
From deep within those mountain ranges came the roar of a Sacred Beast King, sending every bird and beast trembling, each and every creature cowering with fear, not daring to reveal itself.
Ye Fan’s heart clenched. This was truly a primordial ancient land — no shortage of powerful creatures, with certain forbidden zones not to be lightly entered.
The closer they drew to the ground, the denser the spiritual energy became, to the point where it seemed on the verge of liquefying, spontaneously boring into people’s bodies. Countless aged herbs could be clearly seen growing everywhere, taking root in the crevices of stone and the faces of cliff walls.
Upon landing, the many cultivators scattered in all directions, entering one primordial wilderness after another, heading into different regions.
The ancient star was vast, its territory boundless, more than sufficient for these cultivators to spread out across. The sweeping expanse of land they had glimpsed from above was but one small corner of it — far more mysterious and unknown regions lay beyond the horizon.
Ye Fan rode freely, searching for a place suited for his enlightenment. Everything he did centered on cultivating himself — he would not waste his time on anything else.
Long Ma carried him through one ancient land after another, encountering several terrifying currents of demonic energy along the way, though no conflict arose. Clearly the ancient beasts were also unwilling to provoke powerful human cultivators.
“Ahhh—!”
After advancing some forty thousand li, cries of agony rang out. Beast roars filled the sky. Ahead lay a fierce and intense battle — demonic energy surging, sword qi piercing the heavens, with many cultivators fleeing in panic.
“The Nine-Tailed Crocodile Dragon has gone berserk — it’s devoured over a dozen cultivators!” Someone came fleeing out. The entire area ahead was in chaos, with mountains collapsing and great swathes of mountain ranges being levelled to the ground.
A golden divine crocodile lay across the sky, hundreds of zhang in length, cast as though from gleaming gold — shaped like a crocodile, bearing nine tails, and crowned with a dragon’s head. Its great golden maw opened and snapped shut, crushing a group of cultivators within, the mist of blood wreathing the air.
This was a killing ground — the forbidden territory of a Sacred Beast, not to be trespassed upon by outsiders.
Before long, the area grew quiet. The Nine-Tailed Crocodile Dragon returned to its lair, sinking into the wetlands and disappearing from sight.
By the time Ye Fan arrived at the battlefield, the fighting had already ended. The few cultivators who had escaped did not look back, departing from there for good.
“I’ll cultivate here.” Ye Fan came to a stop. He built himself a humble dwelling several dozen li from a vast and boundless great lake, and found the place to be quite peaceful.
That golden divine crocodile was immensely powerful — even among ancient sages, it was absolutely a force to be reckoned with. Ordinary cultivators would not dare approach, and with such a fierce neighbor at his side, he trusted that very few people would come to disturb him.
While others were scouring the four wilds in search of human ancestral divine artifacts, Emperor Scriptures, and mysterious ancient treasures — venturing into many of the areas that were normally off limits — Ye Fan paid none of that any mind, devoting himself entirely to walking his own Dao.
From the Tenth City, certain whispers had spread, with a minority of people murmuring that a crisis might erupt on the ancient stellar path, and that a great battle could potentially occur in the not-too-distant future.
All the powerful figures were reinforcing themselves, strengthening their foundations. So too was Ye Fan — though rather than seeking ancestral artifacts or Emperor Steles and the like, relying on nothing external, he was cultivating the fruit of his own Dao.
It was said that Holy Spirits and other inconceivable existences might make a move, intent on severing the ancient path of the human race. Against such a backdrop, becoming stronger was the only correct choice for any trial participant.
Before the thatched cottage: a few ancient trees, a blue stone slab — simple and unadorned, with a scattering of wild herbs growing nearby.
Long Ma, in this secret land where the spiritual energy was almost dense enough to liquify, nibbled at a purple-gleaming Fire Scale Fruit on one side, then took a bite of a Jade Mist Grass twenty thousand years old on the other, utterly at ease.
Eating divine herbs and pursuing his own Dao at the same time, he moved forward in his enlightenment without haste or anxiety — a transcendent ease of Dao flowing naturally and following the heart’s own will.
Ye Fan sat cross-legged on the blue stone slab before the thatched cottage, stilling his mind to seek enlightenment, cultivating his own technique, undisturbed by the affairs of the world. Chanting sutras resonated from within his body as his several great secret realms shone together with radiant light.
Over all these years, the direction of the Dao within his heart had long been set. He had been in constant and unceasing contemplation — what remained was the opening of his own path.
The Dao Scripture, the Taiyin Immortal Scripture, the Western Emperor Scripture, the Taiyang Immortal Scripture — though most were but single scrolls and not complete texts, taken together they allowed all five of his great secret realms to be cultivated to perfection.
To walk one’s own path — this could not possibly be accomplished overnight. Long before now, many years ago, he had already been pondering the road ahead. After attaining sainthood, his understanding had deepened further still.
And now, step by step, he had established his own path and awakened to his own Dao. Ye Fan felt as though the clouds and mist had gradually been parted to reveal a clear and bright sky — everything suddenly illuminated.
The gains of this past year had been especially great!
Scripture after scripture, ancient character after ancient character broke free and danced outward, revolving around him, transforming this place into a land of the Dao.
Seen from a distance, one Dao character after another, densely packed throughout the void, appeared to be cast from metal, shining with brilliant radiance, stamped upon the emptiness, transforming into resonant roars of the Dao that shook the heavens and the earth with their rumbling.
The techniques of the Holy Body for cultivating the secret realms individually also surfaced at the same time. Ancient scriptures resonated and reverberated through his heart, causing Ye Fan’s flesh and blood to blaze with brilliant light, emitting true and authentic resonances of the Dao.
After the Holy Body lineage reaches the sacred realm, one must re-cultivate the five great secret realms — the Wheel-Sea, the Dao Palace, the Four Poles, the Dragon Transformation, and the Immortal Platform — before it can reach final perfect completion.
This was something he had to face. Since attaining sainthood, his whole being had been submerged in this pursuit, comprehending the Dao of the Holy Body and awakening to the myriad techniques within.
Every one of his secret realms shone with brilliant light. The Holy Body’s specialized cultivation technique operated on its own, resonating with wave after wave of Dao sound — vast and magnificent, dazzlingly brilliant.
One ancient character after another leaped forth from within him. Every secret realm overflowed with radiant light, like one luminous Dao platform after another, blazing with immortal brilliance.
In truth, when he was still a young and minor cultivator, he had obtained the Holy Body’s specialized cultivation technique at the place on the Sacred Cliff where the Holy Body had fallen and perished. Over all these years, he had long since made himself thoroughly familiar with every aspect of it.
Though he had been unable to practice it before attaining sainthood, he had never stopped pondering it — in his heart, he had been deducing and extrapolating it, entertaining all manner of thoughts and ideas.
And now, nothing could obstruct his steps forward.
At this moment, the Dao Scripture, the Taiyang Immortal Scripture, and the Holy Body’s specialized cultivation technique all resonated together as one, merging into each other — making the sound of sutra chanting grow ever more vast and grand.
Ye Fan cultivated several ancient scriptures, as well as the Holy Body’s specialized cultivation technique. He was unwilling to walk the road of those who came before him; he wanted to forge his own Dao and forge something uniquely his own — to smelt a hundred scriptures together in a single furnace. All the long years of bitter contemplation were to be fused into one crucible, there to transform and transcend.
Over all these years, as his cultivation advanced and he pondered ceaselessly, awakening to the Dao of his own being, he had not wasted a single inch of time.
Especially this past year — consolidating his sacred realm, probing the contours of his own path. This had been a process of asking his heart and seeking the Dao: profound in meaning for his future achievements, immense and beyond measure in its significance.
Comprehending in solitude, stilling the heart and seeking amid the barrenness — the mists within his heart dispersed, and his path grew ever clearer.
Over all these years, there had been much time spent simply in quiet thought — time during which his cultivation had not advanced by a single inch. Yet Ye Fan held these sacrifices to be the most precious of all. To ask the heart and seek the Dao — this was a crucially important process of accumulation and settling, a deepening of the foundation!
Smelting a hundred scriptures together in one furnace — ultimately he wanted to transcend beyond them all, to find the Dao that was uniquely his own. Years of quiet contemplation had made him ever more unwavering in his chosen path.
Now, Ye Fan radiated an ever more imposing and dignified presence — like a god or demon seated in meditation, black hair cascading loose, eyes closed in seated cultivation. His flesh gleamed as though cast from divine gold, and from the five great secret realms there blazed forth immeasurable immortal light, filled with an indestructible and undying aura.
Within his body, it was as though three thousand Buddhas were chanting in unison, and as though three thousand demon lords were roaring in fierce chorus, revolving around him without pause. The resonance of the Great Dao thundered on and on without cease.
Every ancient scripture Ye Fan had cultivated, along with the Holy Body lineage’s specialized cultivation technique, all thundered and resonated — as though one Dao-body after another was chanting sutras, profound and immeasurable, fusing into his very flesh and blood, making even his bones resonate in harmony.
Within him, it was as though one Dao, one Immortal, and one Self were chanting without pause — intermingling, merging, all the profound meanings of every scripture and technique blending together, evolving toward an ultimate Dao lineage.
The path that was his and his alone, the Dao that belonged only to him — step by step, it was taking shape, about to reveal itself to the world. Unlike anything that had come before, he was going to create his own ancient scripture.
In that moment, wind and thunder raged across heaven and earth, lightning flashed and thunder cracked, and wondrous phenomena appeared one after another in rapid succession, as though the heavens themselves were moved, shaking because of him.