The Black Turtle was utterly single-minded in its pursuit, chasing without faltering — and it was remarkably fast. Dao patterns flickered beneath its feet like a streak of flowing light slashing across the sky.

The Dragon Head Ancestor King was being pushed to the edge of madness. He could not win in a fight, and being chased down by a turtle like this infuriated him — he was suffocating with humiliation.

“Heavenly Dao Cycle of Reincarnation!”

At last he gathered the full power of his body and unleashed his most powerful divine principle one more time. The radiance behind his head reconvened and formed a massive wheel, illuminating the void.

“Overlord Divine Fist!”

The Black Turtle roared in turn, its two black aged fists expanding infinitely — like two great black mountains crashing down — making heaven and earth resonate together with a mighty rumble.

In the end, amid a blaze of brilliant light, the two black aged fists shattered the treasure wheel, broke apart its radiance, and crushed this divine principle.

Spit!

The Dragon Head Ancient King exploded apart. His primordial spirit light tried to flee, but the Black Turtle blocked it in an instant. The turtle retracted into its shell, and the shell transformed into a great black grinding stone — rolling forward with a thunderous grind.

“Ah—!”

The Dragon Head Ancient King screamed. The life essence he had accumulated over an entire lifetime erupted — but it could not breach the turtle shell. He was ground to dust beneath the black millstone, and countless streams of light scattered in every direction.

Blood rained through the void, then ignited into crimson fire. The sky in that entire region collapsed, undergoing ceaseless destruction, becoming a place of ruin and devastation.

A generation’s Ancestor King had fallen!

Boundless light blazed, shooting skyward. The laws of countless great Daos surged — one after another in disorderly torrents, becoming a turbulent current. No one dared intervene; one could only wait for it to dissipate on its own.

Beside the pure land of Yaochi, people stood in stunned silence. A primordial king had perished like this — blood spattered across the long sky, his body turning to blazing light, his name erased from the world.

The ancient clans of the primordial age fell silent as graves. A powerful Ancestor King had just been killed — beaten to death by a black turtle that looked harmless, even comical.

Didn’t the human race have almost no sages? How had they raised a turtle this formidable? It made one’s hair stand on end.

In the sky, the turtle wore an earnest expression and stated with great gravity: “Remember — I am the great Xuanwu.”

Moments ago people had still been able to laugh. Now, none of them had the heart for it. A generation’s Ancestor King had been beaten to death — who would dare tangle with this turtle?

“How does the Barbarian Race come to have such a powerful sacred turtle?!” The Celestial Prince murmured to himself, the nine divine rings behind his head gleaming brilliantly. He furrowed his brows.

“Speak more softly, Your Highness,” said two Ancient Kings beside him. They had sensed it — this turtle was not something to be provoked.

Inside Yaochi, blossoms rained down in a cascade. Within an ancient grove, Ye Fan raised a cup of wine to the Barbarian Tribe Elder and the Old Barbarian King in gratitude and thanks.

Within the pure land, many people were drinking together, their hearts light and at ease. The insufferably arrogant Dragon Head Ancient King had been thrashed by a turtle and then destroyed — it felt deeply satisfying.

The sound of a qin instrument chimed softly. Within the ancient woodland, beside a crystal-clear lake, auspicious light drifted and mist rose in billowing clouds. Birds gathered from every direction to pay their respects — a scene of perfect peace and harmony.

The ancient clans of the primordial age, however, wore expressions of gloomy despondency. An Ancient King had been slain in plain sight before everyone, and the feeling was like a great stone weighing upon their hearts — deeply uncomfortable.

The Grand Assembly was finally about to begin. Tomorrow morning was the official date — yet everything felt so unnervingly quiet, and many people felt uneasy.

At last, when the red sun sank toward the west, an aura of star-field inversion arrived from outside the pure land. No one entered, yet it caused fear in everyone present.

The pressure of a primordial sage spread like a vast tide, smothering all!

Dong—

A sacred bell rang out slowly and steadily, its long toll unending. A supremely exalted personage was arriving, and everyone was obliged to go out and receive them.

There, along that line where sky met earth, several figures walked slowly forward — each one of towering stature and boundless magnificence, like great peaks of demonic mountain pressing down to collapse ten thousand ages of sky.

They walked slowly, yet their presence was utterly terrifying. Each one seemed to have passed through immeasurable tribulations — their bodies melded together with the great Dao of heaven and earth, merged into the very fabric of Dao principles.

Seven persons.

A full seven primordial sage-level existences!

They came together, walking side by side. The earth seemed to be sinking beneath their approach; from the sky, all manner of luminous radiance cascaded down, celestial music rang out unceasing — as though the world itself were sounding for their arrival.

This was the extraordinary phenomenon created by seven primordial sage-level powerhouses — recognized and acknowledged by heaven and earth, which rained down every form of auspicious omen upon them. Each one of them commanded a unique set of divine principles.

Seven primordial sages — just thinking about such a gathering of powerhouses appearing simultaneously was enough to make one tremble.

Along the horizon, engulfed in blazing light, seven towering silhouettes walked forward. Each one was tinted with a layer of golden radiance.

Every living creature trembled with boundless reverence. This — this was what a sage-level existence was. Something one must spend an entire lifetime looking up to.

Every human cultivator present burned with passionate longing. If only these were sages of the human race — seven of them, entering with such grandeur — how utterly shaking that would be!

Yet as the sound of footsteps drew nearer, every human cultivator felt as though cold water had been poured over their head. Not one of the sages had a human face; each bore unmistakable traits of an ancient clan.

Though they had anticipated as much, they could not help but feel a deep wave of disappointment. How could the human race produce seven primordial sages in one fell swoop, enough to awe the ten thousand clans?

A sense of helplessness rose in everyone’s heart. How could they resist the combined might of the ancient primordial clans? In one fell swoop, this many Ancient Kings walked forward together — it was suffocating. And this was not even all of them, which made the disparity all the more overwhelming.

Outside Yaochi, the world fell entirely quiet. Not a single breath of life could be heard. Silence reigned — not one person could find words to speak.

If not for so many people clinging to the firm belief that the Great Emperor Wushi still lived, this would undoubtedly be an age to drive all to despair — a world with not a single sliver of hope to be found.

For the human race, producing even one sage was exceedingly difficult. Yet the ancient clans of the primordial age had a whole assembly of Ancestor Kings holding the line — the gap was far too vast. There was simply no way to contend.

Bathed in the evening glow, their bodies rimmed in gold, they came step by step. Their appearances differed greatly — some were born with a human head atop a phoenix’s body, some a human body with a qilin’s head, others with thirty-six pairs of divine wings growing from their backs, and some who looked exactly like ordinary humans.

Clearly they were not of one clan. But they shared one thing in common: not one of them believed the Great Emperor Wushi was still alive. Like the Dragon Head Ancient King before them, they had come here to “demand an accounting.”

Who could stop seven sage-level existences? A single sacred turtle certainly could not — this was an overwhelming force of battle-power capable of crushing all opposition!

“Seven great royal clans allied together…” Ye Fan drew a sharp breath. While others still harbored a conviction in their hearts — a belief that Wushi yet lived — he alone knew the truth. In this moment, he went cold from head to toe.

Who could stop them? And this was only the beginning.

The seven Ancient Kings restrained their aura. Unlike the Dragon Head Ancestor King — who had been insufferably arrogant and forced every clan to their knees — they exerted no such pressure. Yet they were far colder, far more indifferent and pitiless, standing outside Yaochi like seven silent mountains.

“With the Yaochi Grand Assembly about to begin, the arrival of seven Ancestor Kings brings great luster to this occasion,” someone offered, indirectly paying them a compliment.

“We invite the seven senior predecessors to please enter,” said one of the human race’s Sect Masters. Though inwardly hostile, he had no choice but to be deferential — any lapse in hospitality could invite catastrophe.

Yet the seven Ancient Kings stood outside Yaochi as if they had heard nothing, paying no heed whatsoever. Their faces were cold as ice.

“With the venerable Ancient Kings gracing this occasion, the Assembly shall shine all the brighter. How joyous — please, honored guests, step into Yaochi,” a few more human Sect Masters spoke up.

Still — silence. The seven Ancient Kings did not so much as glance at them. Not a single response. They treated them as if they were air.

Several human Sect Masters, bowing with cupped hands, suddenly froze in place. This was not mockery — it was cold, indifferent disregard.

The other human cultivators also felt a chill run through their bodies. They felt the boundless distance between heaven and earth.

These seven Ancient Kings had not looked at them once. Their eyes held only the depths of ages — and the cold cruelty of those who had seen everything. It was as if they were facing a swarm of ants — beings with whom they shared no common tongue.

There was no deliberate attempt at contempt — yet this gaze that belonged to another world entirely, this posture of complete dismissal, was even more deeply chilling.

An ant and a dragon have no common ground.

That was the feeling everyone had. They existed in two separate worlds — and because of that, they had been overlooked. One could not even muster the indignation to feel angry. It was a nameless, ineffable sorrow.

The Dragon Head Ancestor King who had been slain earlier had been arrogant and mercurial — alarming, but difficult to truly revere.

But these seven Ancient Kings were different. Supremely cold, not uttering a single word — and yet they inspired far greater dread. Disregarding every human cultivator present, this indifference born from the depths of their hearts was a contempt far more bone-chilling.

“Greetings to the Ancestor Kings,” said the Celestial Prince, stepping forward to bow.

Only then did the seven of them give a nod — but still they said nothing, standing outside Yaochi like seven demonic mountains.

“Quite the grand entrance. Seven Ancient Kings descended together — if you’ve come to attend the Yaochi Grand Assembly, why not come inside?” The Black Turtle appeared, its expression grave.

“What kind of grand assembly is this? Who here is worthy of sitting with us, speaking of the future order under heaven, or discussing the developmental prospects of the various clans?”

One of the Ancient Kings finally spoke — with supreme coldness. The words themselves made clear his position: the human cultivators present were simply not worth acknowledging.

“Truly ruthless logic — the law of the jungle. You’ve come all this way and truly have no interest in entering Yaochi?” the Black Turtle said.

“Can you find a single person here fit to sit as our equal?” another Ancient King said without mercy. The rest remained as though encased in ice.

Still cold. Still indifferent. Not one glance at the human cultivators present — as if they were faced with a multitude of insignificant ants.

The people could not even find the strength to feel angry. All that remained was sorrow. The gap in power was too great. These seven Ancient Kings were not displaying their might — everything arose from within, from instinct. Pure, natural disregard.

“Do you count me among those insignificant ants as well?” The Black Turtle’s expression also turned cold. It asked in a low, measured voice.

“You slew an Ancestor King of Hidden Dragon Valley. That does make you impressive. We were just thinking of seeking your guidance.”

No superfluous words were needed. The battle erupted directly — every step laced with killing intent — their most powerful divine principles clashing immediately from the outset.

Hmmm!

The Black Turtle moved with equal ease in attack and defense, unperturbed. A single claw sent one Ancestor King staggering back more than a dozen steps.

“Formidable indeed. Let me try as well,” said another Ancient King, stepping forward — cold as a frozen cave.

BOOM!

Battle erupted once more. The Black Turtle still held an absolute advantage, and appeared ready to annihilate the two with lethal force, transforming into a dark torrent of movement.

“Very powerful — but how many of us can you fight alone?”

Three more Ancestor Kings stepped forward in succession. One of them was extraordinarily powerful — far surpassing an ordinary Ancestor King, individually capable of rivaling Xuanwu on his own.

Five Ancestor Kings attacked together. Of the remaining two, the more aloof-looking ones did not move — they stood watching with cold indifference.

“Kill!” Xuanwu was enraged — but how could one individual possibly hold off five Ancestor Kings?

One of them was too powerful — a match for him. Combined with the support of the other four, Xuanwu was quickly outmatched.

Bang!

The sacred turtle took thirteen consecutive heavy blows, coughing great mouthfuls of blood as he was sent flying. Were it not for the extraordinary defensive power of his shell, he would surely have been reduced to ash in that instant.

Xuanwu was defeated — he continued to spit blood. With great difficulty he pulled himself back to his feet, his eyes glacially cold, blazing divine lightning radiating from his gaze as he walked forward again.

BOOM!

This time he took nineteen blows — all landed by the one whose power vastly surpassed an ordinary Ancestor King. He spewed great mouthfuls of blood; even his black tortoise shell developed several cracks.

Thud!

This time, Xuanwu fell to the ground, and it took tremendous effort for him to climb back up.

The seven Ancient Kings stood like permafrost that had not thawed in ten thousand years — unmoving, towering before everyone. One of them spoke without emotion: “When a great nation must rely on a turtle to preserve its last shred of dignity — can its extinction be far?”

These words, once spoken, drained the color from every human face. They were like a blade thrust directly into every person’s heart. Even the most patient, the most self-controlled — none could hold back. A surge of anguished cries erupted from within!

Many felt their chests stop up with pain, unable to resist the urge to throw their heads back and howl.

“Wushi is dead. You have no one left to count on!” Another icy statement.

In this moment, every person present wanted to charge forward. Even if it meant death — they wanted to fight, to battle until the end.

Yet they discovered, with heartbreak, that even that kind of defiance seemed beyond their reach. The distance between them was too vast — they were not in the same category.

“Can you rely on this turtle? Can he still fight? Can he still protect the last laughable shred of your dignity?” An Ancient King who had not yet spoken turned and gave voice to his cold contempt.

In that moment, every person’s blood surged with heat. All any of them wanted was to charge forward instantly.

If only a great sage of the human race were to descend from the heavens at this moment — how glorious that would be. This was the fervent wish that everyone harbored in their despair.

“This gathering of ten thousand clans is a joke. Is there anyone here who can sit as our equal? How does a proper assembly proceed?!” said another Ancient King.

Everyone’s face was ashen — yet they had no power to refute it. There was simply no powerhouse of equal standing to engage in dialogue with these beings, and that truth left people furious and yet utterly helpless.

Dong!

Suddenly, from the farthest reaches of heaven and earth, a single footstep sounded. It merged with the very pulse of the world and resonated clearly into every person’s heart.

The setting sun blazed crimson like blood, scattering boundless red radiance, dyeing the whole earth in a rosy hue.

There, at the distant edge of where sky meets ground, an upright figure was walking forward — step by step, steady and resolute. He was dressed in white that surpassed snow, his bearing heroic and magnificent, advancing with unwavering determination.

This was a sage — of the human race. Commanding in spirit, his brilliance unmatched across his entire generation!

A true sage of the human race!

Many of the human cultivators present — quite a few of them — burst into tears in this moment. Whether it was excitement, joy, or sheer pent-up frustration — hot tears streamed down their faces.

The human race had relied on a turtle to defend their last shred of dignity. That sorrow had been eating at them like death — laid bare so mercilessly by the Ancient Kings, more painful than the cut of a knife. And now, at last, they saw a sage who truly belonged to the human race.

He was one with heaven and earth. His white robes had not gathered a single speck of dust. Transcendent and otherworldly — a handsome face, a resolute bearing, a brilliance unmatched across the ages. He was like an immortal king descending into the world.

Ye Fan too was overcome with emotion. Upon seeing this person, even he could not keep the tears from welling in his eyes.