Children speak the truest words. What could a two-year-old little girl possibly understand? Perhaps she had truly overheard something said in her presence, and so she had repeated it.
The Old Madman of Tianxuan — an existence comparable to a sage of the remote ancient era — like a great mountain pressing down on everyone’s hearts. Who would not be wary? A moment of silence fell over the grand hall.
“What does a little slip of a girl know? She’s just babbling nonsense!” A Supreme Elder from Myriad Dawn spoke up, not wanting the others to be held back by such misgivings. He ached to flay every bone from Ye Fan’s body.
Yet no one echoed his words. Better safe than sorry — everyone knew that the Old Madman had once walked at Ye Fan’s side. In the Eastern Desolation, he had already established himself as matchless throughout the age.
It was said that the saints of antiquity were boundless in their divine arts, capable of anything. No one could fathom their limits — they were like living deities walking upon the world. Even in the remote ancient era, such beings were extraordinarily rare to produce. That was precisely why they were revered as saints, venerated by a hundred races and honored across ten thousand generations.
“The Holy Body must die! Otherwise, the fury of the world cannot be appeased!” A Supreme Elder from Purple Mansion spoke. He was the second person to break the silence.
Yet still, the others held back from declaring their stance, for the misgivings ran deep. They feared the Old Madman might truly emerge.
The saints of antiquity — a single glance from their eyes could shatter ten thousand things into nothing. A single drop of their essence blood, flicked outward, could destroy a supreme cultivator. In the remote ancient era, they commanded wind and rain, capable of everything.
Even a single hair naturally shed from their bodies would be like an ancient divine mountain — weighing hundreds of millions of units, capable of felling thousands upon thousands of troops.
One could say that saints of the remote ancient era were near-divine. Every drop of their blood, every inch of their flesh and organs, every single bone was a supreme divine artifact. Their power had reached a level simply beyond imagination.
“Even with a saint’s protection, reason must prevail. This young man is ruthless and cruel, having caused the deaths of so many fellow cultivators — friends of mine and yours alike. How could we simply let him go? He must be executed!”
At last, a great cultivator from the Northern Plains Golden Family spoke out. Sitting imposingly in his seat, righteous and forceful in his words, he demanded Ye Fan’s death.
The Old Sect Master of the Central State Yin-Yang Sect had little life energy remaining, yet his divine arts were surging and overwhelming, enough to make hearts tremble. At this moment, his expression was serene, but his words were cold: “For those who stand as sages, one must discern the great right and wrong. To slay this young man and offer sacrifice to the aggrieved souls is not contrary to the way of a saint. There is no need for anyone to worry overmuch — every one of us here can rightfully kill him.”
In the grand hall, white mist surged across the floor, rising above people’s knees. Behind each jade table sat a dominant lord — like coiled savage dragons, harboring terrifying blood energy within their bodies, emanating dreadful fluctuations.
At this moment, every person was moved. Killing intent permeated the air, and many began speaking up in agreement.
“He has already dared to cause the deaths of Holy Masters. If we allow him to grow further, who’s to say he won’t turn the Eastern Desolation upside down? Without killing him, how can the souls of the dead be consoled!”
“He lured the various dominant lords into a trap and had them destroyed. So many people died. Without killing him, how can anyone’s fury be appeased?”
The powder keg had been lit. The dominant lords themselves did not speak, but their subordinates — elders and others seated below — began one by one to demand that Ye Fan be executed on the spot.
“You’re all bad people, all bullying my big brother. Crazy Uncle will come and save us!” Little Nannan wrinkled her nose, her innocent words echoing through the grand hall.
Ye Fan smiled and swept his gaze over everyone. “Why did you appear in the Ten Thousand Dragon Lair?”
“Naturally because you led us there!” A Supreme Elder from Purple Mansion shot back.
“And who was it that cornered me and forced me to lead the way, to clear my name?” Ye Fan asked calmly.
Silence. Many people found themselves with nothing to say — only killing intent remained.
“And who was it that repeatedly warned that the place was a land of great calamity, not to be entered?” Ye Fan spoke with unruffled composure, as though describing something entirely unrelated to himself.
“You knew a great catastrophe was going to happen there. Why did you not explain clearly and stop everyone from going in?” A Supreme Elder from Myriad Dawn bellowed.
“And who was it that accused me of being an inheritor of a vicious lineage? I blocked and stopped them from every direction, yet I was berated for it. Was I given any room to speak clearly?” Ye Fan’s expression remained indifferent.
“You would make yourself out to be justified — causing the deaths of so many dominant lords, then trying to wash your hands of it completely. Without killing you, heaven itself would not tolerate such injustice!” The people of the True Demon Palace raged.
The Holy Master of Myriad Dawn, the Vice Sect Master of the Yin-Yang Sect, the younger brother of the Golden Family’s patriarch, the master of Misty Peak, the Palace Master of the True Demon Palace — all were dead. Even the Holy Master of Purple Mansion had been left with nothing but a severed head. Supreme Elders from every side had also suffered grave losses. Too many great figures had perished, and none of them could possibly let this rest.
Ye Fan said nothing. He simply retrieved a piece of beautiful jade, suspended it in midair, and within it, scenes and voices began to emerge one after another.
“Why they entered the Ten Thousand Dragon Lair, and what happened inside — it is all recorded here in clear detail.”
Ye Fan had documented everything with the divine jade. The events of that day replayed swiftly — his every moment of being cornered with no way out, plain for all to see.
Many people were left without a word to say. If they were being honest with themselves, every single one of those people had brought it upon themselves. “They had it coming” would not be an unfair description.
“No matter what you say — you caused the deaths of so many people. You must pay with your life!” A Supreme Elder from the Yin-Yang Sect thundered.
Myriad Dawn, Purple Mansion, the Golden Family, True Demon Palace, Misty Peak — all erupted in agreement, their voices harsh and furious.
“Pay with my — pay with whose life?!” The great black dog muttered under his breath, barely audible. But every person present — what kind of figures were they? — many of them heard it.
“Where did this dog come from? Throw it out!” The Supreme Elder from the Yin-Yang Sect felt his lungs nearly burst with rage.
“Shut your mouth!” The monkey slammed the ancient weapon — already on the verge of decay — down against the ground like a great staff, producing a thunderous “boom.”
By now, everyone knew that the Ancient Royal Tribes were about to emerge into the world. They all harbored apprehension toward the monkey, genuinely fearing he might one day summon several terrifying kings.
“Everyone — I have already made multiple copies of this divine jade and distributed them across various regions throughout the world.” Ye Fan spoke with complete ease, unhurried: “If you feel I am in the wrong, then allow those jade pieces to circulate in the world and let all under heaven judge for themselves.”
The crowd’s expressions stiffened. In words alone, there was nothing they couldn’t twist if Ye Fan died — each great sect could fabricate whatever charges they liked.
But if solid, irrefutable evidence circulated in the world, it would truly bring many powerful forces into unbearable trouble.
Ye Fan felt no fear in his heart. If worst came to worst, he would go all the way — summon the ancient saint of antiquity, shatter the seal, and paint the world red.
“The dead are gone. The fault does not lie with Ye Fan. I suggest everyone reflect instead on the circumstances of the human race once the Ancient Primordial race emerges.” The Queen Mother of the West spoke up.
Many wanted to say something, but none could easily dismiss the face of the Jade Pool’s female holy master. This time, the Queen Mother of the West had exerted great effort — it was her divine city’s stone talisman that had saved them all.
“Boom!”
The heavenly palace shook. Many disciples of the Holy Lands at the palace gates were blasted flying. Three powerful figures strode in, each one radiating dense, heavy presence — enough to make anyone’s heart quail.
The Peacock King, with hair drifting lightly, looked no older than seventeen or eighteen, quite elegant in appearance — yet his demonic power shook the world, and a single roar from him could shatter mountains and rivers.
“Those people who died had it coming — they brought it entirely upon themselves!” He spoke the moment he entered, his words making clear he had come to back Ye Fan.
This was a figure standing at the very peak of the great cultivators’ pyramid — someone who, like Nangong Zheng, was likely to break through this realm and enter an even higher, more profound domain.
Beside him, the Azure Flood Dragon King was tall and imposing, with the appearance of a middle-aged man. His blood energy was like a sea — utterly frightening.
The third figure was even more terrifying: ancient Daoist robes that looked as though they had been worn for hundreds upon hundreds of years; bronze-colored skin, dry and leathery; yet sharp and hale of spirit — it was the Red Dragon Daoist.
He was over three thousand years old, surpassing even the average Holy Master by half a generation. He had nearly crossed out of the realm of great cultivators and was someone who could walk sideways through the Eastern Desolation — someone who dared boldly and openly hunt Holy Masters.
Even the monkey’s brow furrowed at the sight of him. Last time, at the divine city, the monkey had suffered a considerable loss at the Red Dragon Old Daoist’s hands.
“You killed them, they died, it’s done — what more do you want?” The Red Dragon Daoist spoke coldly, sweeping his gaze over everyone.
Three world-shaking demon kings had arrived together, bringing with them an overwhelming oppressive force. Every single person felt intense wariness in their hearts.
“Reddragon, after fifteen hundred years apart, you still have that same temperament. Don’t you think you’re meddling a bit too much?” The supreme Old Sect Master of the Central State Yin-Yang Sect spoke up.
“If you’re not satisfied, come fight me.” The Red Dragon Daoist smiled coldly, utterly unconstrained: “I have committed to protecting the Holy Body. Challenge that if you dare!”
“Red Dragon, do not think yourself without equal under heaven. It may come to pass that we shall have to fight.” The Yin-Yang Old Sect Master had little life energy remaining — he had nothing left to fear.
At this moment, Yan Ruyu, descendant of the Azure Emperor, also appeared at the grand hall’s entrance. Her raven hair was like clouds, secured with a nine-phoenix hairpin. She wore a brocade robe embroidered with rivers and mountains in jade thread — as pure as a divine lotus, her beauty transcending the age, her face beyond compare.
Yet her appearance caused many hearts to pound violently, a premonition of terrible things to come.
Everyone knew: several great demon lords had taken her under their protection, representing a kind of will of the demon race. Whether the Peacock King or the Red Dragon Daoist, both could easily borrow from her an Extreme Dao sacred weapon.
And now, only the sacred weapon left by the Azure Emperor could be freely deployed — without requiring the suppression of any so-called “foundation.” It was the single most destabilizing factor at present, and every great sect feared it deeply.
“I pay my respects to the senior figures present.” Ye Fan stepped forward and bowed with great formality.
The Peacock King patted him on the shoulder, then looked toward several of the sect masters: “We are pressing with strength — do you really think we fear you? If you’re not satisfied, step out and fight!”
The patriarch of the Northern Plains Golden Family, golden energy surging from his body, said: “What is there to be afraid of fighting? Do you think we fear you?”
“Correct — fight then! With so many fellow cultivators gathered here, do you three intend to cause a scene at the Jade Pool Peach Blossom Banquet?” The people of Misty Peak added their voices.
Within the grand hall, many powerful figures rose to their feet. Dominant lord after dominant lord began to speak out, with killing intent directed at the three great demon kings, rising and spreading through the air.
“The Jade Pool holds its grand gathering once every five hundred years. Every time, there are Saint-Master-level great battles. If words cannot reach accord, then let us meet on the life-and-death arena!”
Wu Dao, Tu Tian, Jiang Yi, and others from among the Northern Region’s Thirteen Great Outlaws all stood up, taking their place alongside the Peacock King and the others.
Different factions, grievances accumulated over many years — now they were about to erupt. Dominant lord after dominant lord would be drawn in.
“There is truly no need for this, everyone…” The Queen Mother of the West spoke to dissuade them. She had no desire to see a blood-soaked battle. Though the Jade Pool had always had an arena prepared for such occasions, she never wished to witness it.
“Brother Red Dragon — two thousand years since we last parted, and yet here we both still are…” The Crow Daoist spoke up, seemingly with deep feeling.
“You’re still alive too. Of the friends from those days, only the two of us remain.” The Red Dragon Daoist replied, with considerable emotion.
Everyone felt a deep unease. This living fossil had clearly come to stand on the other side as well. If they truly came to blows on the arena, this hurdle would be extremely difficult to clear.
The Crow Daoist was an absolutely terrifying figure.
“Still not convinced? Let’s fight!” The Peacock King swept his gaze over everyone once more, cold smile on his lips.