Huo Tan’s ascension to Sainthood marked the rise of yet another generation and heralded the true arrival of a great era. Everyone was seized by a sense of urgency.

After becoming an Ancestor King, Huo Tan said very little. The moment he emerged from seclusion, he came directly here to seek out Ye Fan. What he intended to do needed no further explanation.

His body stood a full head taller than ordinary people. His pair of eyes, black as two suns, emitted a light that was cold and merciless, sweeping through the crowd like blades drawn from their sheaths, leaving people’s skin stinging with phantom pain.

This was the will of a Saint. Were that gaze to focus on a single point, an ordinary cultivator would be shattered apart, blood flowing freely, their life forfeit.

Across the ten-thousand-mountain range, birds and beasts let out cries of lament and pressed themselves flat against the ground, trembling with dread — a fear of the Saint’s might that emanated from the very depths of their souls.

Ye Fan, Duan De, and the others withdrew without a sound at the first opportunity. They did not step forward to engage. This person had come with ill intent, and they had no desire for a confrontation at this moment — after all, this was a Saint.

“This number twenty-three really does love to put on airs,” Long Ma snorted two streams of smoke from his nostrils, using some of the coarser expressions he had picked up from Earth to pass his judgment.

“Now he comes swaggering over to show off. Why didn’t I see him come and flaunt himself when he was still a Half-Saint? If he had, this Emperor would have sent him to the Western Heaven with a single formation platform,” the Great Black Dog said.

Huo Tan had ascended to Sainthood after all, and there was no one here capable of dealing with him. He had surpassed the bounds of ordinary people, and even if Ye Fan defied the heavens as he did, he was no match.

“Pay him no mind. We will wait for our opportunity. I am going into the great tomb, no matter what.” Ye Fan said. A nameless calling made him ever more restless in his heart and spirit.

With Huo Tan’s arrival, the atmosphere on the high ground became instantly charged. People no longer dared to speak loudly — especially those of the human race, who all felt a hollow dread in their hearts.

“Where is the human race’s Sacred Body? I hear you are peerlessly brave under heaven — why do you not dare show yourself? Which corner are you cowering in?” After Huo Tan became a Saint, he naturally attracted followers, and these people stood on the high ground laughing coldly, harboring dark intentions.

“Now that Ancestor King Huo Tan has come to this place, the human race’s Sacred Body had best withdraw and never show his face again. Otherwise, all that will remain of him is a pile of crushed bone and dust.” Someone laughed loudly.

A number of people acted without restraint, standing on the high ground making provocations at will, wanting to stir up trouble.

Huo Tan sat cross-legged on the high ground, eyes closed, utterly still. Having reached this level of cultivation, he would not stoop to excessive words — to do so would be beneath his dignity.

The great tomb was about to open. He rested and conserved his strength, waiting for the optimal moment, hoping to be the first Saint to enter the tomb and seize world-shaking treasures to further consolidate his position.

“Number twenty-three, keep playing your act. Sooner or later, this Seat will stamp you to death with one hoof!” Long Ma seethed with indignation. With Huo Tan’s arrival, they had been forced to retreat far from the high ground and could only observe through a crystal formation platform.

Over the next several days, no one dared approach the entrance of the great tomb. The area erupted with mists and radiated all manner of immortal light, and only Huo Tan bore the pressure, sitting cross-legged at the very front.

With him there, no one dared step forward. There was no competing with him — they could only look on passively, filled with helplessness.

“With Ancestor King Huo Tan present, all of you had best retreat as far as you can…” The few people behind him laughed coldly without stop.

“Boom!”

On the fifth day, a violent tremor rang out. Ten thousand strands of Dao markings surged from within the sinkhole, billowing upward, brimming with a power that moved the heart and spirit, sweeping in all directions.

“Such a fragrance… There seems to be immortal medicine below…” Quite a few people stirred with emotion and leaned forward to look.

Amid that radiant light, and beneath the intimidating aura of the Ancient Great Emperor, wisps of fragrance drifted over — faint, but utterly unforgettable to any who caught a breath of it.

Huo Tan turned back with a cold glance. The Ancient Tribes fared relatively well and were not greatly affected, but a number of human race sect leaders found their hearts and spirits shaking violently, and they vomited great mouthfuls of blood.

It was nothing more than a sweeping glance, yet the pressure it carried was something people could not withstand. One old sect leader after another turned snow-white in the face and staggered backward, step by step.

The crowd’s hearts went cold. Without becoming a Saint, one was truly worth less than dust. A single cold sweep of Huo Tan’s gaze was more than people could bear.

People’s hearts grew completely desolate. How could they compete? A Saint with hostile intent had no intention of allowing the human race to approach. Had it not been for his wariness toward the human race’s few old Saints, he would likely have begun slaughtering long ago.

“Boom!”

On the eighth day after Huo Tan’s arrival, the great tomb cracked open again. All manner of divine radiance boiled forth, forming waves that surged upward, and the sinkhole grew many times larger.

“It’s ready. We should be able to enter now,” Duan De said.

On that same day, Huo Tan felt something stir within himself. He walked around the great pit for half a day, as though he had made up his mind — he was finally about to make his move.

“What are we to do? If nothing unexpected happens, this place is the tomb of a human race Great Emperor. How can we allow an Ancient Tribe Saint to enter first?”

“But who can stop him? There is no way to obstruct him.”

The powerful experts of the human race felt helpless from all sides. Among the Saints present, only Huo Tan had arrived, and he was truly unrivaled here. People seethed inwardly yet did not dare speak.

“I am going down to take a look. Guard this place well.” Huo Tan opened his mouth, his voice low and deep, sweeping his gaze over a few of his followers.

The center of the high ground was a massive sinkhole, with cracks radiating outward in every direction, spreading far into the distance through the broken and ruined mountain terrain.

Huo Tan hesitated briefly, then leapt forward and dropped in, disappearing into the bottomless sinkhole, advancing toward the ancient mausoleum of the Great Emperor.

He had no choice — time was precious. If other veteran Saints arrived, not even his heaven-defying talent would avail him. He had to take the risk and seize the first opportunity.

“This poor Daoist can guarantee that once he goes deep inside, he will not be able to come back up for a short time. And there is no second Ancestor King in this area.” Duan De spoke up, his eyes flickering.

This fellow had mysterious origins. Even the Black Emperor, who had once followed the Great Emperor Wushi, had not been able to see through him. His means of preserving his life were nothing short of supreme. If he said so, it was almost certainly true.

Ye Fan nodded, stepped forward, and set out. The Movement Art had already been activated. One step — one vanishing — and he appeared on the high ground.

In the days since then, Ye Fan had already learned from the Ancient Tribe members everything about who Huo Tan was. He had once said that his ancestors, in the Primordial Era, had used human race Saints as blood food, and that he, too, wished to taste the precious blood of the human race’s Sacred Body.

“You came here for me. My cultivation level is not yet sufficient, and I am no match for you — but that does not mean I fear you.” Ye Fan murmured to himself, standing upright before the sinkhole.

The moment he appeared, a commotion broke out. The Primordial Ancestor King had just disappeared below, and now the human race’s Sacred Body had appeared — the audacity was breathtaking.

“You…”

Beside the sinkhole, Huo Tan’s several followers all changed color, sensing that something was very wrong. The Ancient King was right below them, yet he dared approach to within arm’s reach.

“What was it you were all saying just now?” The corner of Ye Fan’s mouth curved into a cold, indifferent smile.

Those few people fell back, their hearts pounding. They had not expected Ye Fan to have such audacity — to come straight at them, clearly intending to deal with them.

They had just been mocking Ye Fan for only being able to cower in a corner, heaping humiliation upon him, trying to provoke him into showing himself — and now he had truly come to kill them.

“Run!”

They were not Saints. There was no way they could duel the person before them — to engage him would be death with no chance of survival. They turned and fled.

One of them, no longer caring about the dangers of the sinkhole, leapt in and dropped down, preferring to risk that rather than face the human race’s Sacred Body.

“Clang!”

But Ye Fan gave him no chance. Activating the Soldier Art, he reversed control of a divine sword in the man’s own hand, turning it back to pierce its owner. With a soft thud, the keen blade swung across the man’s own neck, and blood splattered outward.

The result stunned all who looked on. From their perspective, the man had gone mad — using his own gleaming divine sword, he had cleaved off his own head, which hit the ground with a dull rolling sound.

“Slash!”

The divine sword swept down and split his head in two. His primordial spirit was extinguished. He was utterly and completely dead.

“Split up and run!”

The remaining few people had gone ashen. A moment ago, with Huo Tan behind them, they had feared nothing. Now they were like stray dogs who had lost their home, panic-stricken and without hope.

Ye Fan would not allow them to escape. The Movement Art beneath his feet shifted, and countless Dao markings emerged, transforming into golden lightning that bore him forward at the most extreme speed in existence.

“Whoosh!”

Like a bolt of lightning, he cut off one man’s path of retreat. A fist drove forward — “bang” — and this Ancient Tribe member exploded apart, blood and bone fragments flying in every direction.

“Hiss!”

He did not pause even for an instant. He transformed again into a blazing torrent of light and rushed in another direction. Golden blood-aura surged to the sky; the sacred syllable “Om” rang out from his lips, and the remaining two were shattered inch by inch, dissolving into blood that dyed the sky crimson.

The clashing of metal rang without cease. Ye Fan had opened up a world belonging to the Golden Divine Treasury. All manner of golden divine radiance flowed freely — ancient bells, Dao swords, sacred towers, in boundless and immeasurable quantity, rising and sinking together, and with a single shake from him, they scattered outward like a rain of light.

This was a kingdom of weapons, all of them golden, brilliantly dazzling, transformed into blazing torrent after torrent of light that swept in every direction. The remaining few let out cries of misery as they were cut into a paste of blood.

Ye Fan struck with overwhelming force. In that brief span of time, he had slain every last one of Huo Tan’s followers, not allowing a single one to escape.

All around, people cried out in shock — yet not one person dared to intervene, not even the Ancient Tribes.

“Such boldness. Truly fearless. The moment Huo Tan descended into the ancient tomb, he came right behind and wiped out every last one of his subordinates, showing no fear of making an enemy of a Saint.”

“So decisive — he killed them all. Huo Tan’s lungs are most likely going to burst with rage. This is a blatant slap to the face — the moment he became a Saint, someone came to stomp on him. It is a tremendous blow to his dignity.”

Even many of the veteran Ancient Tribe elders were left staring wide-eyed and feeling their scalps tighten. The human race’s Sacred Body was not to be provoked. Was there anything he did not dare to do?

He had chased the Golden Tribe’s heavenly maiden until she fled in bare defeat, and now he had openly challenged Huo Tan — nothing was beyond him.

Ye Fan departed with ease, not lingering for long. He left behind a ground full of bloodstains and scattered severed arms and broken limbs — a sight that shook anyone who looked upon it.

“Boom!”

Suddenly, a muffled sound erupted from within the great tomb below. A violent tremor shook the earth, and Huo Tan came bursting out in complete disarray — his hair wild, his whole body drenched in blood, tottering on the verge of collapse.

What he had encountered was unknown, but the skin across his body had split open, shattered bones protruding through torn flesh, his entire form fouled with blood and filth. With a heavy thud, he collapsed on the ground and gasped for breath in great, desperate gulps.

At the entrance to the great tomb, immortal mists erupted for a time, then finally stopped. The divine radiance of the Great Emperor once again retreated inward.

Huo Tan looked back at the tomb, let out a long breath — and then saw the corpses of his subordinates. He erupted on the spot.

“Who killed them?!”

“It was the human race’s Sacred Body,” someone answered.

“Is that so. I came here for him, intending to use him as blood food — and yet he took the initiative to offend me instead. This time, not even the Battle-Victorious Buddha has reason to protect him. I will kill him, and no one will have anything to say about it.” Huo Tan’s face was ice-cold. He showed no grief for his fallen subordinates — instead, a cold and sinister smile curved his lips.

“Number twenty-three, keep flaunting yourself. Sooner or later, you’ll be slaughtered!” Long Ma said.

In truth, these were also Ye Fan’s innermost thoughts. He very much wished to make Huo Tan bleed at this place — to bring about the fall of a Saint.

“Bang!”

The great tomb cracked open again, and the aura grew even more intense. Duan De’s eyebrow shot up, and he said: “I believe we can enter the tomb now.”

“I know. I finally know what is inside the great tomb!” Ye Fan’s heart was hammering violently. This time, his perception was clear and distinct — something within his body was resonating in harmony.

Long ago, also in the Southern Region, he had gone through nine deaths to enter and attain an immortal opportunity. And now, he had never expected to encounter it again in this place.

“Perhaps from this, a conclusion can also be drawn — confirming who the occupant of the great tomb is…”