The ancient purple-copper vessel — dim and lightless, covered in rust, battered and decayed — lay spread across its central hold: forty-three blocks of Divine Source, each and every one drained of all divine essence.

“Are all the primordial kings truly dead?” Ye Fan’s heart surged. Each and every primordial king possessed boundless divine power — commanding the wind and rain, capable of all things. A single one of their weapons could shake the world.

Without reaching the realm of a saint of remote antiquity, it was impossible to contend against a primordial king. If these Divine Sources had sealed dozens of ancient weapons within them, even the thought was terrifying.

Ye Fan examined them closely. The creatures sealed within the Divine Sources were vastly different from one another. Some had the head of a dragon. Some possessed nine eyes. Some resembled a divine phoenix. Some were indistinguishable from human beings…

All of them possessed an aura capable of instilling dread. Though none of them moved, their life essence dried up and gone, the majesty of kings-who-though-dead-still-command-reverence lingered on in their bearing — still fearsome beyond words.

Moreover, though their forms differed, they shared one thing in common: they were all desiccated, dried out as though made of withered wood — skin drawn tight over bone, life energy utterly spent.

And all of them were extraordinarily aged. Their skin was wrinkled beyond recognition — like ancient ghosts who had lived for ages upon ages without drawing their last breath. It was profoundly unsettling.

“Every king has not only drained two or three square meters of Divine Source — they have also consumed themselves to the point of a lamp running out of oil. What did they go through?”

Ye Fan could not comprehend it. Even for a primordial king, surviving tens or even a hundred million years would not necessarily drain all their Divine Source.

Could the ancient kings have lived in an even more distant era? If one considered that possibility, it was truly something that made one’s skin crawl. How ancient was the origin of life?

Yet Ye Fan also considered another possibility: traveling through the star domains was extraordinarily dangerous, and some ancient stars were mysterious beyond measure, stripping away energy.

Perhaps these ancient kings had passed through some terrible place, exhausting the Divine Source blocks entirely. Without divine essence remaining, they would naturally age and die.

So many ancient kings — an entire vessel of the powerful — this had to be connected to some event that had occurred during the most glorious era of the primordial tribes. And they had passed away together in the same place.

“Indeed. Traveling through the cosmos requires the consumption of energy. I carry some Divine Source blocks myself — once they are used up, I will share the same fate as these beings.” Ye Fan took heed.

The desolate cosmos — outside of pure darkness and a cold that threatened to pierce through everything, there was nothing. Not even breath was possible. Without Divine Sources and the like, one could only burn through one’s own life essence — and sooner or later, it would run out entirely.

In the cosmos, only when drawing near to a great star could one gather life energy. But for the vast majority of time, there was only darkness — and the constant erosion of one’s own reserves.

In this world, only upon reaching the realm of sainthood could one forcibly draw upon the fundamental energy of the cosmos itself in the dead celestial expanse, converting it for one’s own use. This was the fundamental reason why only saints of remote antiquity could journey through the star domains.

The energy drifting freely through the cosmos was something that ordinary people could not even perceive — let alone make use of. There was no possibility of it.

“The Divine Sources and other reserves I carry should sustain me for many years of travel. For now, there is no need to worry.”

Ye Fan fixed his gaze on these Divine Source blocks. He thought for a long time — then decided to try breaking one open, cutting out the body of an ancient king and their weapons.

Every object on these beings was something that defied the heavens. How they had all come to be gathered in one place was a mystery, and there were so many!

CRACK!

A soft sound. He had split open a crack in the Divine Source shell of one ancient creature — one with the ancestral dragon’s head and a human body.

Not all primordial kings necessarily evolved into beings identical to humans. Some were conservative — they retained the unique traits of their own kind.

This body was exceptionally heavy. The Divine Source shell was extraordinarily difficult to move. Such was the nature of primordial kings — even a single fingernail would weigh more than a mountain.

The moment the Divine Source shell cracked open just a seam, a terrifying aura seeped out. Though the ancestral dragon head had dried out completely, it still inspired dread — enough to make one feel as though one’s body might split apart.

Ye Fan was most interested in a pair of Dragon Horns. If those could be taken and refined, they could absolutely be turned into a pair of sacred objects. By all appearances, they had not decayed under the weight of time — for their aura was oppressive, like a blade cutting toward him.

CRACK!

Suddenly, another cracking sound. Ye Fan’s expression froze. He had not continued to cut — so why had a sound come on its own?

In that instant, a chill ran through him from head to foot. Could something be trying to emerge on its own?

In this moment, he truly felt a cold seeping through his entire body. So many primordial kings — could it be that not all of them had died?!

At the thought of this possibility, even the roots of Ye Fan’s hair stood on end. A tingling numbness swept through him. Journeying through the star-sea was truly terrifying — the most bizarre and unnerving of things could occur.

CRACK!

This time he heard it with perfect clarity. The sound came from ahead, not far at all. Immediately he rose to his feet, gripping the black gourd as he pressed forward — at this point, it was best to strike first.

In the depths of this ancient hold, there was another great divine palace. Within it, atop a high dais, stood three Divine Source blocks, upright as divine statues.

One of them was cracking. Inside, sealed within, was an existence like a demonic god — hair red as blood, and astonishingly, it possessed a thousand arms, seated within as though it were a Thousand-Armed Bodhisattva!

Naturally, its bearing was nothing like a figure from Buddhist tradition. Its body was black, and apart from its hair — which was crimson — every inch of its skin shimmered with dark light.

“Is this also a powerful primordial king?”

At first glance, Ye Fan felt a sinking in his heart. The three within this great divine palace were eerie and strange — seemingly more powerful than the rest.

And this existence, like a thousand-armed demon god, was actually releasing a trace of life energy — automatically shattering the Divine Source shell. There could be nothing more terrifying than this.

HUM!

A strange resonance — like the cry of a phoenix, or the beating of a Roc’s wings — spread a devastating tremor. A divine mental force bored straight toward Ye Fan’s skull, seeking to split it open.

CLANG!

The Ten-Thousand-Things Mother Qi Cauldron shook violently, as though struck by a hammer of a hundred million tons, and nearly flew sideways out into the cosmos — carrying Ye Fan along for over a hundred zhang, slamming into the purple-copper ship’s hold.

Had this cauldron not been of extraordinary material — an exclusive sacred object of an ancient great emperor, supremely sturdy — any other weapon would long since have shattered along with Ye Fan.

There was a living creature!

A primordial king ancestor — still alive, not yet withered to death. What a terrifying thing this was!

BOOM!

Ye Fan did not stop to think. Even if a great emperor had come before him, he had to act. He urged the black gourd — endless fire surged skyward, blazing fiercely.

Nine-colored mist tendrils. The ancient hold itself began to melt, becoming streams of purple liquid. The divine patterns embedded within were peeled away and incinerated. Everything was consumed.

It must be said: the sacred flame of the ninth layer of the fire domain was incomparably fearsome — heat of an absolute extreme — reducing the thousand-handed demon god’s Divine Source shell to ash, burning directly onto the creature itself.

A muffled groan. The entire body of this thousand-armed ancient king ignited. After all, it was at the end of its lamp — drained of vitality. No matter how immense its divine ability had once been, it could not now be brought to bear.

It was sealed by fire in an instant — suffering a trial by flame!

Yet this was, after all, a being of inconceivable existence. Even time had failed to settle its account. Through the long passage of eons, it still clung to one last breath in the world.

It opened its mouth and inhaled — and drew in all the divine flames. Its burning body was extinguished. A terrifyingly extreme aura erupted from it.

“What?!” Ye Fan was struck with horror. The nine-colored mist tendrils could incinerate all things in the mortal world — yet before an ancient king whose body was withered and nearly destroyed, they were ineffective.

Just what kind of existence was this? Ye Fan gripping the black gourd could incinerate virtually every foe in the human world — yet it was useless against an ancient creature that had nearly perished.

More terrifyingly still: the thousand-armed divine demon opened its eyes. It began to refine the flame’s energy — converting it for its own use, replenishing its desiccated body.

In the boundless cosmos, drifting for how many years it did not know — its Divine Source was exhausted, its body grown old and decrepit. It could no longer draw upon the energy drifting through space at distance. Only at this close range could it capture any.

At the same time, its nearly-destroyed primordial spirit forcibly separated out a thread of divine thought and attacked Ye Fan once more — seeking to shatter him and seize everything he had.

“Break!”

Ye Fan shouted. He inverted the Ten-Thousand-Things Mother Qi Cauldron, exposing the aura of the primordial saint within — an aura of inconceivable terror, enough to make the entire great divine palace feel as though it were about to collapse.

The Thousand-Armed Divine Demon seemed startled. Those dim eyes — nearly reduced to dust — shot out two beams of light as they swiftly withdrew the divine thought, sensing the danger.

In the days of its glory, it had been without equal above the heavens and below the earth. But now it was on the verge of destruction, unable to bring even a ten-thousandth of its power to bear — it was absolutely impossible for it to contend with a primordial saint.

“Treasure, turn upon yourself — gourd, transform into the Dao-Sword!”

At that moment, Ye Fan cried out. The black gourd stirred, swallowing a condensed fragment of the ancient cosmos — endless stars gathering, a star domain flickering to life — and transformed into an immortal sword that flew forth.

THUD!

The immortal sword severed the head of the primordial king in a single strike — cutting through and past without stopping, incomparably swift.

Ye Fan had not expected that after the first time, a spontaneous shout would work again — the divine chain that flew from the black gourd was truly unbreakable by all things.

ROLL, ROLL, ROLL!

The head of the primordial ancestor-king tumbled to the floor — but then it rolled, floated upward, and reattached itself. The wound was bloodless.

Ye Fan’s heart went cold. This ancient king was effectively in a state of seated dissolution — virtually unable to move — and still it possessed such divine ability. It was truly, deeply unsettling.

Had it been in its prime — it would have been without equal above the heavens and below the earth!

Ye Fan withdrew decisively. The black gourd could only be used once — a second invocation would yield nothing. He retreated under the intimidating aura of the primordial saint.

The primordial king — eyes fixed unblinkingly on the black gourd — with an expression that could not be read, slowly moved its dried-up body, step by step following him out.

Before leaving, Ye Fan gritted his teeth and hauled away the ancient creature with the ancestral dragon head and human body from the outer hall, prepared to hurl it outward as a weapon if needed.

And so they proceeded: one retreating, one advancing — out of the purple-copper ancient vessel. Ye Fan leapt and returned to the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin.

The nearly-dead ancient king seemed greatly astonished. It stood upon the ancient vessel, staring fixedly at the nine Dragon Corpses and the bronze coffin. But in the end, it checked its steps — and did not follow.

Ye Fan released a divine chain from his palm, striking the purple-copper warship. The two were instantly separated and began to diverge.

Slowly it receded, gradually disappearing. In the pitch-black cosmos, upon the ancient vessel, one could still see a gaunt, withered figure standing, still gazing in this direction.

“Ziwei Ancient Star…”

Ye Fan murmured. The ancient vessel had originally been sailing toward the Ziwei star domain. Now that they had separated, it had corrected its course and was once again moving forward.

In boarding the ancient vessel, he had gained a great deal. He had obtained a crescent moon jade pendant, containing the secrets of the Supreme Yin. He had also carried back a Divine Source shell encasing a primordial king — though that king was dead, its entire body was a trove of priceless treasures.

“Where am I going?” The purple-copper ancient vessel had receded into the distance. In this boundless sky, he did not know where his path led.

He knew only that he was now not far from the Northern Dipper star domain — nothing else.

Of course, what was meant by “not far” was relative to the boundless cosmos. If he flew back on his own, it might consume a lifetime.

Ye Fan adjusted his course several times — but found that before long it would shift back. Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin was not drifting without purpose. Though slow, it was always advancing in one direction.

He made no further attempt to alter it. He then seated himself cross-legged upon the bronze coffin — and began his secluded cultivation.

Time passed swiftly. Three full years elapsed. Throughout, he did not move. During that time, heavenly tribulations descended — thunder and lightning blazing through the dead cosmos, fearsome beyond all measure.

For the greater portion of that time, he existed in a state where both self and the outer world were forgotten. He did not know what day or hour it was, did not know where he was — he had nearly forgotten himself entirely.

This most recent stretch had been the most extreme: Ye Fan had lain in deep sealed seclusion for half a year with no awareness of the outside world — no different from one who had passed into stillness.

Suddenly, he was jolted awake from his state of deep seclusion, struck by a violent impact, and sent flying.

“What — an ancient star!”

Ye Fan was astonished to discover that Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin had fallen upon an ancient star. The impact of touching the surface had been what had launched him into the air.