Ye Fan descended from the sky. With a single punch, he shattered the eighth prince of the Golden Crow clan. The body was torn into five pieces and flew in all four directions, blood and water splattering across every person present.
“Ahh…”
The eighth prince’s primordial spirit burst out with a piercing wail—that ever-brilliant little golden crow shot into the sky, trying to escape certain death.
Spurt!
But Ye Fan gave him not the slightest chance. Like a divine fiend himself, he dominated the four seas. A massive golden hand reached out and dragged the primordial spirit down from the clouds, crushing it to powder.
The eighth prince of the Golden Crow clan was from that moment permanently stricken from the world!
Everyone was struck dumb. It had all happened too fast. The Circulating Qi Word Secret was unparalleled under heaven—Ye Fan had descended from the sky and in an instant slain the Golden Crow clan’s future successor, as easily and swiftly as pulling up a weed.
The eighth prince of the Golden Crow clan had, three years prior, already slain a great master. He was a powerful and outstanding prodigy of the demon clan, astonishing the mortal world.
Yet a prodigy of the demon race who could be compared to the leader of a major faction had been smashed apart like a clay tile—obliterated in a single breath. It shook the hearts of all who witnessed it!
“Eighth Brother!”
The Golden Crow clan’s gathered figures roared in unison. Beams of golden light broke through the sky, penetrating heaven and earth, as the entire group surged forward and surrounded Ye Fan at the center.
The death of a Golden Crow prince was a matter of enormous consequence—it concerned their face and their legacy. To have been killed in a single punch: this was a vengeance shared by the entire clan, a fury that shook the heavens.
At the center of the scene, Ye Fan radiated a divine and awe-inspiring might. He had no intention whatsoever of fleeing. His purple robes billowed in the wind. His eyes gleamed like stars—brilliant and luminous. His thick dark hair flew freely. He stood alone at the center and faced everyone.
“So you know what collective fury feels like—did you feel any of it when you slaughtered the descendants of the human race’s Sacred Emperor? Was destroying the legacy of the Ancient Solar Emperor not enough? Must you even pursue the very last drop of his bloodline?!”
Ye Fan stood alone against the Golden Crow clan’s multitude of powerful figures—like a divine fiend himself, looking down upon all with dominance, hands clasped behind his back, without the slightest trace of tension.
“You killed our clan’s divine son! You have heaven-defying audacity—the entire world can no longer contain you!” bellowed a Golden Crow clan commander, wielding a jade-green blood demon blade, his voice and expression fierce and sharp.
Clang!
Ye Fan did not move. He kept his hands behind his back and stood where he was. But he activated the Soldier Word Secret—and from a distant location came a terrible ringing of the blade, echoing through heaven and earth.
Spurt!
The jade-green blood demon blade reversed. A spray of blood shot several meters into the air. A fine head flew upward, its face written with shock and terror—unable to believe any of this.
Everyone was stupefied. The demon blade had reversed, slashing open the commander’s own neck—cutting off his own head.
The jade-green blade light soaked the sky and the sea in a sea of green. It was unspeakably eerie. The blade’s edge was razor sharp—transforming into a streak of green radiance that shot out and pinned the commander’s primordial spirit to death as well.
The scene fell into dead silence. Many felt a cold creep through their entire bodies, raising gooseflesh. This was far too strange and terrifying.
At the center, only Ye Fan stood alone—his gaze clear, his hair strands light and crystalline. He faced everyone and said: “A mere insignificant commander—and you dare to insult me?!”
“It’s him—he actually escaped from the sea eye and returned to this world!”
Finally, someone shouted it aloud—recognizing Ye Fan’s identity.
“How is this possible? Once one falls into that prison cage, one can never emerge for all eternity. How has he appeared again?”
No one had ever escaped the eye of the Northern Sea. That was a place for imprisoning ancient sages. How had he managed it? The Golden Crow clan’s people were astonished. Compared even to Ye Fan’s dominance, what shook people more was the fact that he had escaped the sea eye and returned to the world of the living.
A beam of golden light split the vault of heaven, flying toward the reef ahead. A great master had made his move, intending to seize the only remaining child of the Ancient Solar Sect—fearing that Ye Fan’s appearance would complicate things.
The sky was crystal clear. The black ocean swelled. Ye Fan stood alone between heaven and earth. With a single pointed finger, a massive golden cleaving blade descended, severing the path forward.
The person was greatly startled and dodged quickly. Opening his mouth, he spat out a golden arched bridge—this divine bridge penetrated the void and led directly to the half-submerged dark reef ahead.
In addition, others also made their move, lending their assistance. Now, the most urgent thing was to prevent any complication—to first seize the last bloodline of the Solar Sacred Sect into their hands.
Om!
Suddenly, Ye Fan’s mouth released a great cry—a vast, celestial sound. Like the moment before all things came into being, like the universe at its first opening, it presented the primordial source of all existence!
He was mimicking the “Om” sacred sound from Buddhism’s Six-Character True Mantra—catalyzing it with the Battle Word Secret. Against all expectation, it possessed a power of the Dao that could open heaven and cleave the earth.
At the time, when the Nine Secrets had clashed against the Buddhist True Mantra, that sacred sound had nearly cost him his life. It had left a deep impression on him. Over four years in the sea eye, he had attempted to cultivate all manner of arts—and naturally had tried to mimic it using the Battle Word Secret.
Now Ye Fan loosed a great roar—like the universe resounding, like heaven and earth at their first opening. Behind him there appeared a great divine figure—yet it was not a buddha. It was the figure of a young man, gaze profound yet not lacking in sharpness, standing upright like a divine fiend. It was himself.
This was not vanity on his part. It was because one could draw inspiration from heaven and earth and from nature—but one absolutely could not venerate another person in one’s cultivation. This was the insight he had gained through four years of Dao-comprehension. Without it, attainment of the Dao would be impossible.
The legendary Six Ancient Sounds were said to possess the power of opening heaven and cleaving the earth—boundlessly wondrous, supremely exalted, containing the great power, great wisdom, and great compassion of the universe.
At the time, that bitter-headed ascetic had mastered only half a character. The celestial sound he had roared out was incomplete. Now, Ye Fan’s mimicry was also not a pure Buddhist chant.
Yet this celestial sound was truly too vast and mighty. The entire vault of heaven resonated in harmony with it. Ye Fan, through the Battle Word Secret, had imbued it with an entirely new divine power.
Behind him, the divine fiend figure stood erect and chanted in unison with him—utterly terrifying. One could clearly see the golden sound waves sweeping through all ten directions.
Heaven and earth rang and trembled. The sea surged skyward. All four horizons cracked and split. The twenty-some figures who had charged toward the dark reef—beneath this mysterious ancient sound—all cracked apart in a single instant, becoming dust, ceasing to exist.
As for the great Golden Crow master, his golden arched bridge collapsed on the spot. His physical body also failed to escape. Beneath the celestial sound evolved through the Battle Word Secret, a portion of his body was destroyed—only his upper half remained, and he was pulled to safety by the combined efforts of those behind him.
Buddhism’s Six-Character True Mantra—Om, Ma, Ni, Pad, Me, Hum—was a supremely exalted sacred art. When achieved at its highest level of mastery, it could subdue all the divine beings of the heavens.
Yet just as with the Nine Secrets of Daoism, it had long since been lost. Only a few of the oldest sacred temples had each mastered a single character—even combined, a complete set could no longer be assembled.
In the distance, every face among the Golden Crow clan had turned iron gray. Ye Fan was far too domineering. A single light shout—a vast celestial sound—had shattered even a great master’s body by half. This was truly terrifying.
In the current era, very few people dared to openly oppose their Golden Crow clan. Even powerful legacies like the Hall of the Human King and the Guanghan Palace were unwilling to clash with them. And now someone dared to do this—alone!
“Wuu, wuu…” The sound of the young child’s sorrowful weeping rang out—especially desolate and heartbreaking.
On the reef, this very young child, his small clothes all tattered and ragged—worn down by a life of flight, his body nearly shattered by a Golden Crow powerhouse, haggard and frail—had a pair of wide eyes brimming with tears. He clutched the aged servant’s mangled, broken-beyond-recognition arm and shook it with all his strength, sobbing and calling out: “Jiang Bo, don’t abandon me—Tong Tong wants to depend on you to survive, don’t go.”
“I won’t be able to see you grow up… cough…” The aged servant coughed blood. His entire mouth was filled with blood froth. Even his white hair had been dyed red throughout. Every bone in his body had been shattered. His eyes had long since lost even a trace of light—he could no longer see anything. He stretched out his long since deformed arm. His rough, calloused large hand weakly stroked the child’s small face—as though reluctant to let go, unable to move it away—holding on with his very last breath, refusing to let it fall.
Ye Fan fixed his gaze upon all of the Golden Crow clan’s figures. Not a single person dared to draw near. He descended and channeled a stream of divine power into the aged servant, also wanting to feed him sacred spring water—but found that he was already beyond saving.
This aged servant’s physical vitality had long been destroyed. Even his primordial spirit had already crumbled. The only thing sustaining his continued lingering was a single reason—he could not bear to let go of this child.
“The Sacred Emperor… has bestowed immeasurable merit upon the human race… made so many contributions… and yet his descendants were treated in this way. I am so unwilling… I have no ability to protect him well… and this is the Sacred Emperor’s last drop of bloodline…”
The aged servant gasped and trembled. Two lines of turbid tears slid down his aged face. Then he began to cough great mouthfuls of blood. His entire body was splitting open.
“Go in peace. As long as I live, no one will ever be able to harm him again!” Ye Fan spoke with solemn gravity. His voice began quietly, but slowly grew like divine thunder echoing—rising to the nine heavens above, descending into the nine depths below, rolling and resounding. The entire Northern Sea roared!
In the distance, every person among the Golden Crow clan changed color. Ye Fan’s voice carried a murderous aura that was overpowering—it was evident he was ready to fight to the death for this child, to unleash great slaughter!
“Re… really?” The aged servant could see nothing. He could not even form words any longer—only his lips moved slightly, producing faint, exhausted sounds of breath.
“Really. As long as I still live, no one will be able to harm him.” Ye Fan answered him in the most simple, direct voice, with the utmost force—so that he could feel at ease. This was the best account he could give the aged servant.
“Thank… you… you must protect him… preserve… the Sacred Emperor’s last drop of bloodline… the Sacred Emperor of the past… was of immeasurable grace and debt to the human race… cannot… allow their hearts to grow cold…”
At last, the aged servant’s lips went cold. Even his indistinct, faint breathing fell silent. His primordial spirit was shattered—and about to fully disperse.
“Jiang Bo…” The child wept bitterly, collapsing into the aged servant’s cold embrace, crying with heartbreak, calling out: “Tong Tong misses you—I won’t let you leave—I have no family, only you…”
He sobbed and wailed, shaking the aged servant’s body again and again—but there was no longer a single trace of life’s breath.
“Jīngqì into the divine, the divine holds form. Form is born of the sun, the sun is born of the moon. Accumulated Yin produces form, within form there is spirit…” Ye Fan recited the scripture—this was the Daoist text The Scripture of Deliverance, which formed a mysterious power between heaven and earth.
Ye Fan was astonished to discover that from the aged servant’s shattered primordial spirit, a single thread of essence-light seemed to fly out—and under the protection of The Scripture of Deliverance, it broke through the void and vanished.
Is there truly such a thing as reincarnation? Ye Fan did not know. From ancient times to the present, no one had ever witnessed it.
A cultivator’s primordial spirit could temporarily seize a physical shell for its own use—but it remained subject to its original lifespan. Once that was exhausted, death still came. That was entirely different from reincarnation.
Reincarnation—a new beginning, erasing all that came before, starting a new life fresh. It had been spoken of in legend since ancient times, yet no one had ever seen it, and no evidence existed.
“Jiang Bo…” The child wept with grief. Tears fell without ceasing. His thin, slight body trembled. He lay prostrate against the cold corpse’s chest—a sight no one could bear to witness.
“Slayer of our divine son! Repeated transgressor of our Dao! Our clan’s great hatred cannot be dissolved—the whole world shall kill you!” An elder of the Golden Crow clan roared. His voice grew louder and louder, shaking the empty sky until it collapsed. In the end, the entire Northern Sea was seized by towering waves crashing against the clouds—nearly swallowing heaven and earth.
The Golden Crow clan had fully a hundred-plus powerful figures here. Several princes were among them. Now they advanced together with the elder, pressing forward to jointly strike down Ye Fan.
“Uncle… don’t go away… Tong Tong misses you…” Amid the roaring and shouting of the crowd, a child’s voice was this helpless and fragile—weeping with heartbreak.
Ye Fan stood alone against over a hundred Golden Crow clan powerful figures. His killing intent was like a mantle. In a cold voice, he said: “Your clan’s great hatred… then what of the descendants of the Solar Sacred Emperor—who shall they tell their grievances to? Destroying the legacy of the human race’s Sacred Emperor was not enough—you even want to annihilate the very last drop of his bloodline. This is truly an affront to heaven and earth, a fury shared by men and gods alike! This feud—there is indeed no need to dissolve it. There is no need to dissolve it at all. Killing all of you will do just fine!”
A murderous aura swept through the Northern Sea like an autumn wind scattering dead leaves—incomparably cold and desolate.