“It is not yet time to enter. The great tomb has not fully collapsed — only the tip of the iceberg has been revealed…” Duan De furrowed his brow and murmured, his expression carrying a trace of unease.
Ten thousand strands of immortal light, a hundred million layers of Dao markings — this was a land ravaged by tribulation, where the high ground had sunken from below upward, wreathed in swirling mist and haze.
Yet the auspicious radiance did not appear at every moment. It erupted at intervals, and for the majority of the time, this place remained still and quiet.
The surface of the great tomb had cracked open, and before them yawned a massive abyss — so black it sent a chill through one’s heart, its depths impossible to see.
Only when the immortal mists rose could people peer inward, yet even then nothing could be discerned. There was only a single aura spreading outward — one that spoke of the creation of heaven and earth, of something revered by the entire cosmos.
This place was connected to the Ancient Great Emperors. That was the consensus of all who had gathered.
There was no other explanation. Whenever anyone drew near to the abyss, even the most accomplished kings would tremble in both legs, unable to stop themselves from falling to their knees, their body and soul quaking alike.
From that day forward, across the ten-thousand-mountain range that surrounded this high ground, ten thousand beasts fell silent and a hundred kinds of birds trembled with fear — none dared cross overhead. Any creature that passed by would bow in the direction of this place before taking a wide detour.
Ye Fan sought clarity within his own Dao and heart, yet he could not determine what was calling to him — what it was that left his mind and spirit so unsettled.
Over these past few days, cultivators from across the world had arrived in numbers that could not be counted, driving Duan De and the Black Emperor to curse without end. They had originally hoped to act alone, but who could have expected that the whole world would come to know of this place?
The divine dynasties of the Central Province, the sacred grounds of the Eastern Wasteland, the Buddhist sects of the Western Desert, the Demon Emperor’s Hall of the Southern Range — all had sent great numbers of powerful experts rushing here. As for the Ancient Tribes, there was no need to even mention them; they had long since secured the most advantageous positions.
“I hope the hidden passages we left behind will prove useful and give us a head start,” Long Ma said.
“This poor Daoist… feels somewhat unsettled in his heart, for no reason I can name. To think that I have roamed the underground world for so many years without ever suffering a single defeat — why would I feel such unease?” Duan De muttered to himself.
“Stop preening and quickly put your signature skills to use. Pinpoint the exact location of the immortal treasure!” The Black Emperor’s eyes burned with eagerness.
This was the burial ground of an Ancient Great Emperor — by now the entire world knew it, leaving no room for doubt. Heaven only knew what manner of figures this would draw.
The Ancient Primordial Ancestor Kings loomed in people’s hearts like great mountains — a source of dread for many. With such a mysterious emperor’s tomb emerging into the world, even Saints would have to make their appearance.
News of Ye Fan’s return spread to every corner of the world amid the discussions of the masses. In one battle he had slain the son of the Celestial Emperor; in another, the pursuing Golden Princess had fled in bare defeat. It was a tremendous upheaval.
By this point, he held no more fear. Half a year remained before he would depart. The broken immortal cauldron could conceal his aura, and not even a Saint could divine his whereabouts.
Still, he had taken certain precautions. There were surely Saint-level Ancient Kings displeased with him, and if they found him, they would strike without mercy.
His performance had been far too conspicuous. Among those of the Emperor’s Son tier, who could claim with confidence that they could surely defeat him? Once he fully matured, aside from a handful of Ancient Imperial Sons, who in the world could stand against his edge?
Time passed quickly. In the blink of an eye, half a month had gone by. The emperor’s tomb grew ever more unfathomable. Each time the immortal mists erupted, the aura of an Ancient Great Emperor would spread outward, as though an ancient being were truly on the verge of awakening.
The high ground continued to sink, and the abyss had expanded into a massive sinkhole with no visible bottom. Even the Heavenly Eye could not see through it, for below, strand upon strand of Dao markings were interwoven — even Saints were helpless before them.
“Indeed — the legends are true. The origins of Yao Guang’s imperial weapon are deeply suspicious. It was not naturally forged through moving the heavens above.”
Now that the tomb of an Ancient Great Emperor had appeared, all the secrets of the past would have the fog blown away from them, and every ancient tale was drawing close to the light of dawn.
The Dragon-Patterned Black Gold Cauldron was called the greatest miracle in the world. After the passage of untold ages, the truth was finally about to emerge.
A miracle, or a divine wonder?
A great tomb had appeared, and the aura of an Ancient Great Emperor permeated the air — it seemed there was little more that needed to be said. Certain records from unofficial histories had been confirmed.
The black divine gold had indeed been found by Yao Guang himself, but it was most likely not the fruit of fifty thousand years of worship, nor something achievable through the successive efforts of generations of sages and saints. It was connected to an Emperor.
On that stormy night of howling winds, lightning, and thunder, a Great Emperor had descended, reversed the workings of creation, and forged the Dragon-Patterned Black Gold Cauldron using supreme divine arts of unparalleled mastery.
All of this was deeply mysterious. An Emperor-level existence had appeared amidst the great rain and flashing lightning, growing more unfathomable the more one thought about it.
“Yao Guang was founded atop a great tomb — that alone is strange enough. And yet in the end, a supreme existence emerged from beneath that ancient mausoleum. How utterly inconceivable is that?”
People’s imaginations ran wild, and some were even filled with dread.
Was it a person or a ghost? Since the tomb had already been built and one had buried oneself within it, how could they still be alive and emerge into the world?
Since ancient times there had been a secret legend — proving the Dao through one’s own corpse. It was said to be an extremely ancient tale. Could it be true? Was such an existence resting beneath the great tomb of Yao Guang?
And yet, through the vast expanse of the ages, as the river of time flowed on — if such a being had proven the Dao through their corpse, they could be said to have regained life, to have defied the heavens and lived once more. They would not be without name in history.
“Yao Guang’s Dragon-Patterned Black Gold Cauldron appeared relatively late. Let us think — if we calculate from this, which Great Emperor’s era does it fall closest to?
“It came after the Eternal Universe Furnace, after the Void Mirror. If we calculate carefully, it seems to be nearest to that one person…”
When people reached this point in their deductions, they all froze. They felt a chill seeping into their very bones, and one by one their expressions grew strange.
This… this actually involved a supreme being who had shaken the ancient and illuminated the present — a matchless, solitary sovereign through all of history. One so overwhelmingly powerful that they could suppress the nine heavens and ten earths, silencing every enemy in the world.
“That era… was not far from the Great Emperor Wushi!”
Finally, someone spoke these words aloud, sending towering waves crashing through the hearts of every cultivator present. Could it be true — was this connected to Wushi?
If true, it would be earth-shattering, something almost beyond comprehension.
And if false, no other figure could be found to fit. An Emperor-level existence — how could such a being have gone nameless throughout the ages? Whenever such a figure emerged into the world, the Grand Dao would take notice, heaven and earth would resonate, and all beneath the sky would pay reverence.
In that era, the nearest in time — who else could there be but Wushi?
“That hardly seems possible. How could the Great Emperor Wushi have proven the Dao through a corpse? Are there not some records of him from before he became an Emperor — catching an imperial weapon with his bare hands?”
“Before he became an Emperor… caught an imperial weapon. Who can prove that he had truly not yet proven the Dao at that time? Perhaps that very fact points to a great and telling truth.”
“This… this is too inconceivable.”
Many people’s voices trembled. A great ancient tomb had emerged, drawing with it certain primordial secrets — secrets that might overturn some historical truths.
That the Great Emperor Wushi was a reanimated ancient corpse — spoken aloud, no one would believe it. And yet this great tomb, along with the era in which Yao Guang’s imperial cauldron was born, lent a thread of genuine possibility to this hypothesis.
If it truly was Wushi — what era did his previous life belong to? Could it be that he had yet another, even more ancient identity? Inconceivable.
One who proved the Dao through a corpse — in their previous life, when they still lived, would they not have been extraordinary? They might even have been a Great Emperor of the human race in their own right. But then — who would that have been?
At the thought of this possibility, people’s primordial spirits trembled.
The high ground descended into complete chaos. Everyone was shaken. The moment this deduction was voiced, it was like a crashing wave of enormous force, sending every single person’s heart into violent upheaval, their hair standing on end.
“This is impossible. How could the Great Emperor Wushi have proven the Dao through a corpse? What a bunch of fools — they have no idea what they are talking about!” The Black Emperor was agitated, flatly rejecting the notion in one breath.
“Are you certain?” Ye Fan asked.
Beside him, Ye Tong also wore an expression full of curiosity, staring at the Black Emperor. He held an unbounded fascination with all things pertaining to the Ancient Great Emperors and wanted to know every detail of their past.
Duan De, in a rare moment of genuine seriousness, sighed and said: “Proving the Dao through a corpse — though the legend exists, it is fundamentally impossible. There is a gap — a missing thread of innate life-force from the unseen workings of fate — which leaves the immortal path incomplete and impossible to perfect. Throughout all of history, no one has ever succeeded.”
“How can you be so certain?” Ye Fan asked.
“This Daoist… who am I? I have robbed every ancient tomb under heaven. Is there a secret within graves that I do not know? It is a dead end — no one has ever succeeded throughout all of history. What people say… is nothing but rumor.”
Ye Fan looked at him with an odd expression. Duan De the Daoist had mysterious origins and seemed to know everything. What sort of background did he truly have? Even now, it was impossible to see through him.
A great ancient tomb, leaking strand after strand of an Emperor’s aura. It held boundless mysteries. Over ten thousand years ago, on a single rainy night, it had given rise to an imperial cauldron — something utterly impossible to see through.
Within the great tomb — who was sleeping?
So many years had passed. Had the tomb’s occupant long since turned to yellow earth? What had they left behind? That was what everyone was waiting to find out.
Suddenly, a beam of divine light blotted out the sun and enveloped the high ground. A majestic figure appeared — with a head of purple hair flowing loose, his back to the crowd, facing the great tomb.
He stood upon the high ground, and those who beheld him felt as though they were facing a divine peak — impossibly tall, utterly unreachable. Many a cultivator’s calves went soft, and quite a few lost control of themselves, falling to their knees.
A Saint-level Ancient King had arrived.
Sure enough, with the tomb of an Ancient Great Emperor emerging, even Saints could not remain seated, and had rushed to this place.
The majestic figure turned around abruptly, facing all who were gathered. His purple hair cascaded loose, and his eyes were like deep pools — pitch-black and unfathomable. None dared meet his gaze directly.
“It’s… Huo Tan. He has become a Saint!”
An Ancient Tribe member cried out in shock. The news came from a Half-Saint.
Many people’s expressions changed with shock. Huo Tan was a remarkable genius, held in extremely high regard among the Ancient Tribes. In the final years of the Primordial Era, he had challenged all four corners of the world.
This was a newly ascended Saint — the first person in this generation to become a Saint since the revival of the Ancient Tribes. He would be inscribed into the annals of history.
“It truly is Huo Tan…” In the distance, some of the Ancient Tribe elders whose lifespans were running short let out a trace of bitter smiles at the corners of their mouths.
Huo Tan had certainly not been the greatest genius of his generation, yet now he was the first to become a Saint. From this point forward, he had transcended. One half-step’s difference was the gap between heaven and earth.
The Half-Saint was a heavenly barrier. One might be trapped there for an entire lifetime — an entire existence — never able to cross it. Many who were gifted with heaven-defying talent had been blocked at this very threshold.
Half-Saint and Saint — only one character apart, yet the difference between them was immeasurable. One could only look up; the other stood high above.
“Huo Tan actually succeeded. The greatest of that generation is still struggling, and yet he has now become a Saint and an Ancestor King…”
Among the Ancient Tribes, many were unwilling to accept it — yet could do nothing. Huo Tan’s becoming a Saint marked the rise of yet another generation.
“Where is the human race’s Sacred Body?” Huo Tan’s pair of pupils, like two suns of black, unleashed an intimidating light that swept across the crowd, making every living creature tremble.
“Saint Huo Tan has appeared, and he’s come looking for trouble with the human race’s Sacred Body!” Some among the Ancient Tribes were excited.
The edict of the Battle-Victorious Buddha was something few dared defy, but that did not mean every individual would comply — and for one determined to slay the human race’s Sacred Body, loopholes could be found and exploited.
Huo Tan had come for two reasons: first, to explore the ancient tomb; second, to target Ye Fan. Even before becoming a Saint, he had been a rising star among the more radical faction within the Ancient Tribes.
“In the Primordial Era, my ancestors once used human race Saints as blood food. I have heard that the Sacred Body of the human race contains precious blood within, and I too have long wished to taste it.” Those were the words Huo Tan had spoken before becoming a Saint — words that many still remembered clearly.