The gathered powerful were shaken to their cores. The Eight Division Divine Generals—those were mythic figures they had heard of since childhood: the Divinities who had followed the Immortal Heavenly Emperor before the Primordial Age. Two of them had fallen in the blink of an eye, both killed by the same man. How could anyone not tremble?

Ye Fan walked forward. He was drenched in blood—the blood of a divine general, splashed across his body, soaking even into his hair, giving him an air of something darkly bewitching.

Beneath his feet surged a golden divine sea. He stood alone, imperious, looking down in all directions—the sheer force of his gaze left many speechless.

“You have killed two of our Eight Division Divine Generals. Remember this: that blood will not flow for nothing. Someone will come to end you for it.” From atop the Phoenix Nest, iron-armored guards wept and bellowed—these were all survivors from the age before the Primordial.

But war was this brutal. This place believed in no blood oaths. There was only the brutal reality before them. Ye Fan raised his hand and extended one finger. A divine radiance flew out—with a muffled burst, the man who had spoken exploded, reduced to a heap of shattered bones and a mist of blood.

A brief silence. Then a thunder of war drums. The clear, cold voice of the Undying Empress resonated across the field: “The Heavenly Emperor is immortal. Your efforts will be known to him. Sooner or later, he will return—to avenge you, to bestow glory upon you. Fight for brilliance and immortality. Go—slaughter all who stand against you!”

Dong. Dong.

The war drums quickened in their cadence, firing the blood. The briefly stilled battlefield erupted once more into battle cries. The great combat divisions, abandoning all thought of self-preservation, charged forward with everything they had.

Boom!

The Woodcutter Elder and the Yanluo Lord’s battle reached its most intense phase. They had long since separated from the main battlefield and were engaged in a peak-level duel. No one could approach.

Both men were splattered with blood—both had taken severe damage—yet their fighting spirit blazed undiminished. Neither retreated. They detonated supreme laws and secret arts in a clash that had transformed this stretch of space into a place of annihilation.

Boom!

Suddenly, the might of an extreme path divine power erupted. Everyone’s face drained of color—it was as though they had been thrown back to that one night over three hundred years ago: imperial laws descending upon the world. The dark and tumultuous era. That impression could not be erased.

It was the clash of imperial weapons. In the Woodcutter Elder’s hands appeared a cyan lotus—cyan mist shattered the sky. In the hands of the Yanluo Lord appeared a black nether spear—its death energy as vast as an ocean.

No one had anticipated this: both had drawn upon extreme-path weapons. Given such a clash, who could dare approach?

“Kill!”

In the distance, endless yin soldiers massed, reinforcements surging forward. And from within the Phoenix Nest, powerful cultivators poured out in an unending stream—as vast as an ocean—charging forward to slaughter.

The ranks of the Dao Palace, the Divine Organization, and the Heavenly Court forces were struck instantly. Casualties were severe. The enemy’s forces were far more numerous than anyone had imagined—powerful cultivators as numerous as a forest.

The one saving grace was that Ye Tong, Little Song, Mountain Phoenix, Yang Xi, and the others were present—all at the Quasi-Emperor realm, immensely capable—and they swiftly stabilized the line and launched a counterattack.

As for Ye Fan, together with the One-Hearted Arrogant, they charged directly into the sea of enemy forces, causing this stretch of the battlefield to collapse, routing all who stood in their path.

“Wooo…” The imperial lord’s war horn rang out. The White-Haired Sword God drove forward—one slash, one enemy dead—cleaving the Phoenix Nest’s powerful cultivators apart.

The Old God himself also stepped forward, drawing closer to the Phoenix Nest.

The Undying Empress’s expression grew grave. She struck the war drum and proactively advanced to engage the Old God in a battle to the death—the tension in this stretch of the battlefield multiplied severalfold.

Swoosh. Swoosh.

The White-Haired Sword God was overwhelming—nearly one slash per kill, reducing every iron-armored guard that surged out from the Phoenix Nest to rubble. None could withstand a single exchange.

Hum!

The Phoenix Nest shook. It was, in fact, an enormous formation array—and it swallowed the White-Haired Sword God whole, trapping him for the time being.

The Undying Empress and the Old God squared off. Both faces were written with cold resolve. One of them had to fall. This would be a battle to the death.

Within the sea of yin soldiers and the Phoenix Nest’s great army, Ye Fan charged in and carved his way back out, bathed in blood. No one could stop him. He moved like the Celestial Emperor descending from the heavens—golden light blazing for a billion zhang—walking through an army of thousands and tens of thousands, unmatched, a path of blood and bone forming beneath his feet.

Without a sound, a lame horse appeared, carrying an old white-haired man who stared blankly at the Phoenix Nest.

On another side, a young man clad in beast-hide also appeared. His eyes were bright and clear. He said: “Everything I have lived through in this age was to wait for you. And here you are, still in this world.”

“The First Divine General!” An iron-armored guard atop the Phoenix Nest cried out, shaking with excitement, eyes fixed on the white-haired elder seated atop the ailing horse.

Even the Undying Empress’s body shuddered. She spun around abruptly. When she saw that the once vigorous and brilliant genius had aged like this, she could not help but feel a pang behind her nose.

That young man of the white horse—the one whose single battle halberd had made him unrivaled under heaven—how magnificent and spirited he had been. And the years… the years had reduced him to this.

The young man carried a hard bow across his back and held a stone club in his hand, utterly relaxed as he said: “Back then, your Heavenly Emperor’s divine dynasty hunted me down mercilessly. By the time the Heavenly Court fell, I was the only one left who could defy heaven. Now the wheel has turned, hasn’t it? Your side is in a poor position. And your general is being killed one by one.”

“They are not my generals.” The First Divine General said, white hair spread loose, his face expressionless.

“Ah, that’s right—you’re different from them. You had no great camaraderie with them. You were only there for that woman. Ha. How about this: let me deal with her for you. One death ends all things—you’ll have no more burden in your heart, and from then on you can dedicate yourself entirely to the ‘Path of Emperor-Breaking.’ What do you say?” The young man laughed loudly.

“You are welcome to try.” The First Divine General’s gaze was fierce—brilliant and piercingly intense.

“How dull.” The young man shook his head and said: “I’ve lived so long, I’ve finally found I can no longer keep myself sealed. I’ve been wondering how to go out in a blaze of glory. If you hadn’t appeared, I was about to go stir up a life forbidden zone.”

Everyone who heard this was horrified. What kind of person was this? What extraordinary nerve!

“It is the Ancient Heavenly Court’s First Divine General. To think that this elder is still alive in this world!” Even the Old God’s lips trembled, moved to hot tears of excitement and joy.

The crowd erupted in commotion. Some who recognized the young man’s origins were all deeply stirred. In the old days, this truly had been a being who had dared to charge into a life forbidden zone to kill.

Because around him, there were simply too many legends.

“That old thing the Nethervoid Emperor is one of the calamities that caused the Ancient Heavenly Court to collapse. His days are numbered, and I was nearly ready to go to the Underworld and settle the score with him—but then you appeared too. It seems you can’t stay sealed either.” The young man gave a self-deprecating laugh and said: “People like us, meeting our end this way—how merciless. But perhaps this is another kind of attaining the Dao, like that Great Completion Holy Body.”

“Ending this way is indeed a pity.” The First Divine General said softly, a hint of wistfulness and regret in his voice.

The young man swung his stone club lazily, utterly at ease, and said: “You think it’s a pity too? Then let’s have an alternative kind of final battle.”

“How shall we fight?” the First Divine General asked.

“Each of us storms a life forbidden zone and slaughters our way through it—see which of us can kill one or even two supreme beings.” The young man laughed without restraint, yet there was something so bright and open and heroic about it. “They were fortunate not to have encountered us when they attained the Dao. But let them know—there were once two men who, had they lived in the same age, would have given them no opportunity at all!”

The First Divine General sighed. He had been born nine thousand years after the Immortal Heavenly Emperor. By the time he rose to prominence, the Emperor had long since attained the Dao. No matter what, he had never been given a chance.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let us each go fight our own battle. The truly peerless heroes of an age—only people like you and me!” The young man laughed freely and said: “The Nethervoid Emperor is mine—don’t compete with me. That old thing has lived far too long. It’s time for him to die.”

Then he turned, looked at Ye Fan, and said: “You carry the spirit of my youth. Your combat power is considerable. In this age, I will not contend with the likes of you—this era belongs to your generation!”

“Ha ha…” The First Divine General suddenly burst into laughter—laughter with a note of melancholy. “To think we’d ever have a conversation like this, rather than immediately fighting to the death.”

“Because you and I are fundamentally the same kind of person—only born by mistake on opposing sides. But the age is different now.” The young man picked up his stone club and said: “Let’s go. I am already impatient. Time to kill that bastard the Nethervoid Emperor.”

This young man—this bearing, this brilliance, this unrestrained boldness—speaking so casually of going to kill an ancient supreme being—was extraordinary. What ease, what dominance. He was truly a peerless hero of the age!

Everyone present was shaken to their souls. Not a few felt their blood begin to boil.

In the end, the First Divine General shook his head and said: “I cannot leave. At least not now. I cannot watch her die.”

In his eyes was a slender silhouette—his expression complicated as he gazed at the Undying Empress atop the Phoenix Nest. He would not go.

“A woman—after all these ages, you still cannot let go?!” The young man shouted.

“And have you fully let go of your own obsession? If you had, you would already be a supreme emperor-level existence. You cannot release it either—you still blame yourself, you still grieve over the fall of the Heavenly Court.”

“When all of you are gone and the Underworld has collapsed, I’ll release it. Your end is already decided, because you have encountered me. Once this matter is settled, I’ll go to the Underworld—kill the Nethervoid Emperor—and then I can attain the Dao and live two more lifetimes!” The young man declared resolutely.

In the distance, the Undying Empress atop the Phoenix Nest had stopped beating the war drum. She stared blankly at the First Divine General’s aged countenance—her face streaked with tear marks.

That young man of the white horse and silver robes—so old now. Even his celestial horse had gone lame, fallen into its twilight years. Such a peerless hero of the age—and even he had come to this day of dusk and decline.

The young man raised his head and shouted up at the Phoenix Nest: “Woman! He has given a great deal for you. Do you want to watch him die full of regret? If you can spare him even one thought, you should die at once—let him put everything down, attain the Dao right here, and stop being so selfish!”

“Is that so… If I die, can you truly attain the Dao?” On the Undying Empress’s face of transcendent beauty, crystalline tears rolled without stopping, her voice trembling as she spoke: “If that is possible, I will help you attain the Dao.”

The First Divine General shook his head and said: “Do not listen to his nonsense.”

“What dreary sentimentality. Let me help you attain the Dao—then we go to the forbidden zone to kill. Otherwise, in your current state, you’ll surely be far below my level!” The young man reached out a hand and slapped a palm toward the Phoenix Nest.

Everyone was horrified. What manner of powerhouse was this? Could he really be so confident—to slap the Undying Empress to death with a single strike?!

Clang!

A gleaming silver war halberd rose and blocked the young man’s path. The First Divine General made his move, meeting the strike directly with a clash of raw force. The laws of the imperial path scattered outward—the gathered powerful were forced to their knees, unable to bear the pressure, involuntarily pressing their foreheads to the ground.

The one mercy was that the laws were contained within a certain radius—otherwise everyone present would have perished.

“That woman of yours—she ruined his previous life. And in this life too, he had a chance to transcend. Going into a forbidden zone to kill supreme beings—that would have posed no problem. But then he encountered you again. Ruined again.” The young man mocked.

“If I am a burden… I am willing to die this instant!” The Undying Empress’s tears fell. She no longer resembled a powerful woman—she was a fragile, helpless girl, lost and at a loss, her heart in agony as she thought of the past.

“Foolish!” The First Divine General snapped. “You have fallen under his Celestial Sound Immortal Curse—he is compelling you to die. Whether you live or die, you are already branded into my heart.”

Hearing those words, the Undying Empress felt a pain even sharper than before pierce through her. Unwavering and devoted—that young man of the white horse and silver robes had always remained at her side, never leaving. She could not speak a word. Tears streamed silently down her face, and there was only a silent, wracking grief.

“How dull. That you’ve become this rigid—no wonder you cannot attain the Dao. Fine. I can make it so they spare her life—no killing. For people like you and me to end in mutual defeat is truly a tragedy in the grand scheme of things. People like us—at the very least, we should go kill a supreme being. Let one of the forbidden zones accompany us to our graves. We were born in the wrong era—that was not our choice. Dying—that we can choose ourselves. Let us fall in the most blazing of glory.”

“With your divine edict, we will naturally refrain from killing the Empress this time,” the Old God said.

“This cosmos is too filthy—it holds no meaning for either of us. Let us go choose where our graves will be!” The young man burst into laughter and unleashed a great divine ability—the battlefield shattered on the spot, forcibly displaced. He and the First Divine General vanished.

Everyone stood in a daze. Had they truly charged into a life forbidden zone? Truly—peerless heroes of the age!