The Zhongnan Mountains — steep and treacherous in terrain, with winding, difficult paths. Five great valleys, over a hundred smaller ones. Towering and imposing, stretching for hundreds of li.

The morning glow blazed brilliantly. Mist drifted through the mountain forests, illuminated crimson red by the dawn light, and then suffused with five colors — a scene of felicitous serenity.

Ye Fan and the others began their descent down the mountain, preparing to leave this ancestral ground of Daoism. In the battle the previous night, he had slain all who had come to attack, and had found the Quanzhen Sect Daoists, asking them to pass on a message on his behalf: if anyone sought him, they could follow the road westward — he would be along the way.

“Worthy of being called sacred Daoist soil — no wonder so many people make the pilgrimage here each year.” Long Yuxuan sighed, one of the rare occasions when he spoke more than a few words.

The ancestral mountain of Daoism was wreathed in mist and rosy clouds, shrouded in an inexplicable divine radiance. Walking here, one’s body and mind settled into stillness. A strange power flowed through the air.

More than twenty years earlier, before Ye Fan had left Earth, he had seen some reports stating that even in the present day, the deep reaches of the Zhongnan Mountains were home to many hermits — no fewer than five thousand of them.

At the time, Ye Fan had looked it up online and then gone out of his way to verify it with someone. A friend of his living in Shaanxi Province had confirmed it was true.

These people lived lives as their ancestors had thousands of years ago — reclusive and infrequently seen, seeking a peace of heart through withdrawal from the world. They were content to live hidden deep in the mountains, every one of them an ordinary mortal.

Now, walking along the mountain path, Ye Fan could not resist sending out his divine sense to sweep through the mountain range — and indeed, he saw some such people. A wave of feeling rose within him.

They walked along the mountain road for a stretch, then began crossing the mountains themselves, abandoning the path and traveling freely, arriving at the northern foothills of the Zhongnan Mountains. In a moment of distraction, Ye Fan heard the sound of scripture chanting.

“Master, why have you stopped?” Little Celestial Master Zhang Qingyang asked.

“Do you hear it?” Ye Fan murmured, not moving at all. He stood still and listened — the ancient sound of the Dao drifted to him across space: someone was expounding scripture.

The others exchanged glances and fell silent, none of them speaking. They had not sensed anything — yet they dared not say much, for they had noticed that Ye Fan had entered a state of stillness, merging with the Dao, sinking into a state of unity between Heaven and Man.

In his eyes, the entire Zhongnan mountain range rose up, vast and primordial, reaching heights of tens of thousands of zhang, radiating a sense of overpowering presence.

He looked toward the distance. There, a great stone bore three ancient characters carved upon it: Louguan Tai.

“The Dao that can be told is not the eternal Dao. The name that can be named is not the eternal name…”

He heard the voice of ancient scripture chanting, traveling across time and space to reach him. An old man sat cross-legged upon a stone platform, expounding scripture.

In an instant, Ye Fan merged with the Dao. His gaze fixed, unwavering, upon that hazy, indistinct silhouette — an ancient Dao body, composing and writing.

According to legend, Laozi traveled west and passed through Shaanxi. At the Zhongnan Mountains, he expounded the Dao, leaving behind two volumes of the Classic of the Way and Virtue — and that place was Louguan Tai.

Here at the ancestral ground of Daoism, cradled by mountains and rivers, surrounded by dense forests and bamboo groves, the green shade blanketing the sky — Louguan Tai, also known as the Sutra Expounding Platform — that indistinct Dao body sat there without joy or sorrow, without striving or withdrawal, chanting scripture. All that was spoken seemed to have nothing to do with itself.

Ye Fan fell into stillness. He had heard before that the Classic of the Way and Virtue existed in two volumes: one that circulated in the world, for ordinary mortals to read; and another that had never been shown to the world, containing world-defying Daoist techniques.

He listened attentively, hoping to receive the second volume. Though he knew his hopes were slim, he still harbored some expectation. Yet in the end, he was disappointed.

There upon the Dao platform, the indistinct silhouette finished expounding scripture and produced the other volume — but did not recite it. Instead, it was bestowed upon a person, and then vanished.

Ye Fan let out a long sigh and came to his senses. This day was still this same day. This place was still this same place. The indistinct Dao body of Laozi was gone. In the end, the lower volume of the Classic of the Way and Virtue had not been attained.

He looked up at the sky in a daze. Laozi had left behind his lineage in the Ziwei Ancient Star Domain, and Yin Tiande had obtained that inheritance — a source of deep regret for Ye Fan.

“Master, what is the matter?” Only at this point did several disciples dare to ask. They had feared breaking his concentration earlier.

“I wish to sit here quietly for a while.” Ye Fan murmured to himself.

He settled cross-legged upon a green stone and began to contemplate carefully what he had just witnessed. The Dao body he had seen a moment ago had been surrounded by tracings of the Dao. He had not heard the scripture of the lower volume — but he had witnessed the trajectories of that Dao, and they had moved something within him.

One day and one night passed. Ye Fan did not stir. Two more days and two nights went by before he opened his eyes. The several disciples all startled — for they found that multiple Ye Fans had risen, all identical.

Laozi transforms the Three Pure Ones from a single breath!

This was a secret technique Ye Fan had long yearned for — one that could produce three additional selves, not merely simple manifestations of the body. Its applications were profound and inexhaustible.

“Master, what secret technique is this?”

Ye Fan exhaled softly. The several shadowy forms dispersed, leaving behind only his true body and one Dao body that did not dissolve. For now, this was as far as he could go.

“Difficult, difficult, difficult!”

He had listened to the sound of the Dao and witnessed that ancient Laozi seated and expounding scripture at the Louguan Tai platform. He had used this as a foundation for his enlightenment — yet he had only managed to form a single genuine Dao body.

“Will there come a day when I can face Yin Tiande?”

Once he set aside those thoughts, his mind and spirit settled into calm. After remaining here for several days, he had attained a Dao body through enlightenment — in truth, this was already a tremendous achievement.

In the short term, once the Dao body appeared, it could double the layering of his cultivation — and this was no different from his true body. Far more terrifying than simply having a second body that added combat power.

In years past, he had once attempted to manifest this technique through the Dou Zhan Sage Law, but had not grasped its true essence and had not produced any meaningful effect. Now, at last, a genuine Dao body had been achieved.

When the several disciples learned of it, they were all greatly shaken, clamoring in turn to ask that he pass it on to them. Ye Fan nodded. They were setting out westward, and he needed to teach them some techniques to protect their Dao forms.

“It is truly wondrous — to suddenly have another self in an instant. That is far more significant than instantly multiplying one’s magical power several times over!”

The disciples were all astonished, urging Ye Fan to continue his enlightenment in hopes of working out the true One Breath Transforming the Three Pure Ones technique. As for themselves — that was not even worth thinking about. Their cultivation levels had not reached that point; such Dao attainments were beyond their grasp.

“Every person has their own different Dao. To attain one Dao body through enlightenment is already a tremendous Dao attainment. If I could conjure a second Dao body from nothing, I would truly be the real Laozi.”

Ye Fan shook his head. To attain a second Dao body through enlightenment alone was more difficult than ascending nine heavens — it could only be done by reading the true scripture.

“Master, you once said that you killed the younger brother of Laozi’s inheritor Yin Tiande. When the time comes to face him — will you have the confidence to deal with him?” Zhan Yifan asked.

“Whether we will meet in this life is difficult to say.” Ye Fan exhaled softly, gazing toward the hazy heavens above, as though trying to pierce through the star domains to look upon the great enemies: the Heavenly Emperor Son, the Sacred Son of Yao Guang, Yin Tiande, and the rest.

With this, Ye Fan and the others truly began their westward journey, departing far from the Zhongnan Mountains. They first entered Ningxia, then Qinghai, and finally made their way into the Tibetan region.

Ye Fan led the group at an unhurried pace, not employing the ancient divine ability of Traversing a Thousand Li in a Single Step. They journeyed westward leisurely, comprehending the Dao as they traveled.

They entered the Tibetan region to visit the place where Xiao Song had grown up. The little creature was deeply attached to its roots — ever since setting out on the westward road, it had been a little listless, beginning to miss its small den.

And it was in the Tibetan region that someone caught up with them. This was an elderly Daoist from the Zhongnan Mountains, who brought them a Dao talisman letter.

After Ye Fan read through it, his brow furrowed. It turned out that the Eastern Crusade’s judgment against him was merely a pretext — there was a deeper, true purpose at work: to seize the ancestral artifacts of the Central Land.

In years past, when Mount Tai cracked and the sacrificial altar emerged, various great forces had all appeared. The people of the Western cultivation lineage had come in force and, using the chaos as cover, had made off with the foundation stone of the greatest altar — which bore half a volume of a celestial scripture inscribed upon it, recording ancient secrets.

Over all these years, they had studied and researched nearly to completion, and now wished to acquire the remaining portion of the ancient celestial scripture — for within it seemingly lay a world-shaking great secret.

“No matter. They will have to pass through me first. If they cannot — I will send them all on their way, and then travel west myself to reclaim the ancestral artifacts.”

Ye Fan assured the elderly Daoist he need not worry, and at the same time told him to ask the various sect leaders to pass word through their channels to the Western cultivation lineage: he had already slain a group of holy warriors at the Zhongnan Mountains, and was now in Tibet.

That very day, Jerusalem and the Vatican were shaken to their core. For days there was no word — no one had expected that more than ten formidable cultivators had all perished, with not a single survivor.

“The heretic is far too arrogant. He has slain everyone and then had some Central Land Daoist masters pass the message for him — clearly, he regards us as nothing.”

A high archbishop of the Western cultivation lineage issued a summons. The Eastern Crusade was imminent — to crush the demon, to pass judgment upon him, to carry out the final reckoning.

Of course, the expedition had already been in preparation to seize the remaining portions of the ancient altar. This was now a simultaneous operation: eradicate the heretic and claim the artifact.

However, they also deliberated carefully. The demon of the Central Land had certainly surpassed the Great Completion of the Dragon Transformation realm. The intelligence gathered earlier was inaccurate.

“The Celestial Platform First Heaven realm — rarely seen in the present age. He must be a great practitioner of that order.”

“Could he truly be an ancient patriarch who has returned?”

The Eastern Crusade mobilized on a grand scale. This time it was a great army — all elite cultivators. A high archbishop of the church issued the summons, calling together numerous powerful figures to form a holy army.

On this day, five hundred knights set out for the East. Though the Pope himself did not appear publicly, he quietly conferred a sacred cross — to be inscribed in the memory of their deeds and honor.

“Master, I just received a transmission from my sect. The Eastern Crusade has already departed — powerful figures beyond counting, masters as numerous as rain!”

Little Celestial Master Zhang Qingyang reported.

“No matter.” Ye Fan stroked two black arrow feathers and once more summoned a Dao body. This would be his most important foundation for the western campaign and the reclamation of ancient artifacts — even if a true god were to appear, he held no fear.

Two days later, Ye Fan encountered a group of people in the Tibetan region. The Eastern Crusade had dispersed to search for him, but upon finding his trail, quickly regrouped.

“You are the heretic?”

Five hundred knights came roaring forward, every one of them clad in medieval-style armor, flashing cold light, some wielding great swords, others war lances, their blood aura surging.

These people’s cultivation was powerful across the board. The three leading knight commanders were all at the Great Completion of the Celestial Platform First Heaven realm. This time they led the finest knights from various ancient families.

Five hundred knights shouted in unison, their voices shaking the heavens. Their blood aura blotted out the sky and covered the earth, like a flooding river, shaking this uninhabited region. Many mountain ranges trembled and rumbled.

“Since the secret technique of Divine Descent Upon Man exists, there must be an extraordinarily fearsome being of supreme power. Without that being personally arriving here — however many of you there are, it will be of no use.” Ye Fan murmured.

Boom!

He made no attempt to conceal his imposing pressure. A golden pillar of blood erupted from his crown, piercing the azure sky above, reaching up to the clouds, descending down to the earth, connecting heaven and above to the ground below.

The golden blood aura of Ye Fan alone surged like an ocean tide, pressing down the blood aura of all five hundred Eastern Crusade knights entirely — solitary as a divine demon, facing all challengers alone.

“You… just what manner of being are you?” The three knight commanders trembled. They knew they were in serious trouble. For such a figure to appear in the present age was absolutely a catastrophic disaster.

Perhaps only a handful of existences within the holy lands of the Western cultivation lineage could slay this person.

“Ye Fan, Lord of the Heavenly Court.” The calm words rang out — and then, his body blazing with golden blood aura like a demon god, he charged forward and began his slaughter.

Boom!

Blood light erupted!

One punch. With only one punch, the skull of one of the three great knight commanders shattered. He fell backward and collapsed to the ground, struck down beyond salvation.

A Celestial Platform First Heaven Great Completion knight commander — felled with a single blow.

The rest dissolved into chaos — yet they did not retreat. They gathered together, forming an ancient battle formation, and began charging forward once more.

Spurt!

Blood light flashed. Ye Fan displayed the sword art mysteries of the Red Pine Master — the technique of A Single Grain of Dust Transforming into a Sword to Fill the Sea reappeared in the world of men.

A sheet of crimson light appeared. Innumerable wisps of blood mist rose from the ground. Shattered bones lay everywhere, flesh and blood scattered — this place had become a field of carnage.

“A hundred-some years ago, you seized our Central Land ancestral artifacts amid our shattered mountains and rivers — and now you dare come again. You will find no way back!”

That day, all five hundred knights were annihilated. The Eastern Crusade’s great holy army was entirely destroyed in the Tibetan region. When this news traveled back to the West, it unleashed a sky-shaking wave.

It was a report of staggering impact. Whether in the holy city of Jerusalem or the holy see of the Vatican, earthquakes of the highest magnitude struck — every great figure was stirred.

“The first wave of the Eastern Crusade has been wiped out — God, am I hearing this correctly?”

“A Great Demon has arisen in the Central Land — this is a nightmare!”

“His name is Ye Fan. He calls himself the Lord of the Heavenly Court — does he seek to stand as an equal with God?!”

The West was shaken to its core. The Pope began recruiting holy knights who had survived from ancient times, and even moved to summon the divine knights — to launch another Eastern Crusade.