Moonlight poured down. Stellar radiance cascaded like a waterfall. Ribbons of silver-white cosmic rivers hung suspended from the heavens, making the ancient city look mysterious and immense — a place very nearly touched by the divine.
On all sides, wild beasts roared. Strange birds circled overhead. Some had bodies the size of mountains; others had wings that blotted out the sky. Each one held dominion over its territory — all of them were primordial exotic breeds.
Among them, the tyrannical serpentine dragon, the divine stag wreathed in purple wings and arcs of lightning, the ancient bird gnawing on a young serpent — all were serving as mounts, and seated upon each of them was a powerhouse who reigned supreme in their domain.
Before the ancient city, the assembly of heroes made no sound. Only the savage birds and beasts cried out. The oppression was absolute, and the ancient city’s form radiated a crushing pressure.
Ye Fan furrowed his brow. He sensed a quality of ancient vastness and overwhelming dominance. This towering city gave off a feeling of epic, primordial grandeur — as if it had stood since the beginning of time, carrying with it the entire ancient history of the human race.
“When this city was built, and from which era it originates, can no longer be verified. It is known as the first pass on the human race’s road of supreme trial.” Someone murmured.
Ye Fan learned that there were many “smaller ancient roads” throughout the cosmos, all of them leading toward the main road of the ultimate trial. This place was a node — also functioning as a great dam — where the paths of human powerhouses from all directions were unified.
Before this towering city stood over two hundred and ninety people, each keeping to themselves. Every one of them was the undisputed protagonist of their own domain — every last one was a supreme hero among humans.
“There are so many people. Are there truly that many ancient life-bearing stars in the star domains?” Long Ma was unsettled and scanned his surroundings.
Not a single one was weak — and among them, the mounts of several had attained sainthood, dominating all around them with awesome might.
Once they arrived, Ye Fan spotted the thirteen riders again. They were clearly dominant — commanding their own space, with no one willing to provoke them lightly.
The thirteen iron riders also saw them. Several sneered coldly, giving them no importance as they gazed arrogantly over the assembly.
“They are the Thirteen Riders of the Desolate Sky, from an ancient and old star domain. Their power is deep and unfathomable. It is said they fought a bloody path here, undefeated at every turn — even the Guiding Emissary was alarmed.”
Ye Fan listened attentively. He had arrived here alone, and had not met a single rival along the way. He needed to understand the situation.
“What is the Guiding Emissary?” There were also many cultivators unfamiliar with this ancient trial road who asked the people around them.
“The Guiding Emissary is the guardian of this first gate of the human race. He commands the six directions and guides heroes from all sides into the city, informing them of the path ahead.”
In a sense, this was truly the starting point of the supreme trial road. Only those who had made it here had the right to continue the contest that lay ahead.
Those who had been defeated too early along the way — those who had died in the starry sky — would never see this great city at all. This was a strategic stronghold, drawing in the heroes of all directions. Only those who passed through this gate could continue forward.
“The Thirteen Riders… this seat will get acquainted with them soon enough.” Long Ma said coldly.
People nearby immediately stepped away, unwilling to stand near this one person and his mount. No one wanted to make enemies of all sides right from the start.
Of course, not everyone feared the Thirteen Riders of the Desolate Sky. Many extraordinary figures held their own positions, their eyes deep and serene, waiting in stillness for the Guiding Emissary — nothing in the external world could move the foundations of their hearts.
Ye Fan had a question he could not put to rest: how could there be this many people, all from different star domains? How many ancient life-bearing stars must there be? It was genuinely astounding.
A cold snort rang out. A golden-winged Roc descended from the sky. Seated upon it was a woman — a middle-aged Daoist nun of unremarkable appearance, but with a bearing that was extraordinary. A single glance was enough to know she was a powerhouse.
Ye Fan’s brows drew together slightly. He had seen this woman on the road. She had greeted him with cold words, telling him he might as well turn back — that there was no point in him participating in the supreme trial.
The golden-winged Roc, though it had reduced its size, was still several zhang long. Its entire body blazed gold, powerful and sharp. In the moment of landing, the force of its descent was fierce and dominating — a release of divine power. Seven or eight people nearby involuntarily stepped back, and the exotic beasts beneath them cried out, sensing a pressure that forced them all to retreat, their expressions changing. The middle-aged Daoist nun had not even made a move — yet her mount alone was already intimidating people, suppressing the energy of some among them who could not withstand it.
Ye Fan was also in this vicinity. He watched with cold eyes and made no move.
Long Ma’s four hooves stood like iron pillars, utterly unmoved. He stared at the Roc coldly. If it dared come any closer, he absolutely would not hesitate to fight.
He did not act rashly. After all, they were before the human race’s first gate, and no small number of people were watching. To stand out at this moment was absolutely unwise — it would put them squarely in everyone’s sights.
Of course, if the other party was brazen enough to take the initiative against them, that was another matter entirely. Long Ma would strike back and counterattack with the most violent means at his disposal.
The golden-winged Roc landed and cast a provocative glance in their direction. Its magnificent wings blazed with radiance that covered the sun. It slowly and deliberately folded its wings, its aura at its peak.
“Not yet a Saint, and yet you dare put on airs before this seat!” Long Ma snorted coldly. The killing intent was undisguised. He was no longer as impulsive as he had been in the past — he was much steadier now.
The Daoist nun cast a cold glance in their direction. Clearly, she had no desire to become the center of attention right at the entrance to the human race’s first gate — doing so would mark her as a threatening rival and invite combined efforts to eliminate her.
She soothed the golden-winged Roc and instructed it not to act rashly, waiting for the moment the gate would open.
Ye Fan remained serene throughout. Long Ma made no aggressive advance. Both parties maintained an uneasy truce, each occupying a favorable position.
They waited for a full day and a night. No fighting broke out in this place. Everyone showed great restraint. During this time, still more people arrived.
Most came from the depths of star domains, converging here. In the end, the number had reached over four hundred — a staggering figure.
Ye Fan had a hard time believing there were that many ancient life-bearing stars — it did not align with anything he knew.
Here, he could only be a listener, paying close attention to conversations among people nearby, gathering what information he could. Before long, he had indeed learned something useful.
“The first gate of the human race opens once every half year to five years. This time, the count is on the higher end.” A man with a full, bushy beard said.
Ye Fan was taken aback. So that was it. No wonder so many people had converged here at the same time — the gate was likely due to open soon, and many had been waiting here for more than half a year.
“Even though it is time for the gate to open, that doesn’t guarantee passage. I once heard that there must be at least one seed-level powerhouse present in the group before everyone is allowed through — which is why sometimes the wait stretches to five years.”
“Rest assured, this time passage is certain. The Thirteen Riders of the Desolate Sky fought a bloody path all the way here — their arrival alone was enough to alarm the Guiding Emissary. You think he won’t grant passage?”
“Hmm, that’s true enough. This time there are quite a few formidable figures. There are visitors from several ancient star domains. The Thirteen Riders are not the only contenders — there are at least several other rival groups, and that’s only what’s known so far.”
In the end, a total of four hundred and thirty-seven people had gathered before the first gate of the human race, standing before that vast and ancient city.
“Enter the gate!”
At last, a divine will swept through — resonant as a great bell tolling — and many people felt their bones tremble and their blood surge in response, expressions of shock crossing their faces.
The ancient city gates creaked open with grinding heaviness. This was a city suspended in the starry sky, yet within it existed an environment suited for human habitation.
All four hundred and thirty-seven cultivators — some urging their mounts forward, others proceeding on foot — walked toward it. Not one among them was calm.
The ancient city radiated the primordial breath of ancient times. It had been built from huge grey-brown stones — imposing and awe-inspiring. People stood guard upon its walls.
There were not many soldiers, yet each one was clad in armor gleaming with a cold metallic luster, armed with long halberds that cleaved the sky and iron spears that shattered the air. They were like a unit of heavenly warriors, watching the arrivals with the sharp vigilance of tigers.
They carried a killing energy, as if they had fought through countless star domains and slaughtered innumerable powerhouses. Now they guarded this place — and none dared provoke them. They crouched here like a pack of fierce predators lying in wait.
As the group entered the city, some commotion broke out. The strong would always yield to no one — and especially on this road where one competed for supremacy all the way to the position of Great Emperor, there would be no stepping aside.
Eight or nine groups of supreme figures made themselves known. In each of their areas, they were overwhelmingly dominant, pressing others to retreat, forcing them to make way.
The Thirteen Riders of the Desolate Sky were clearly a supreme fighting force. Those nearby them struggled to breathe. The thirteen savage beasts roared and bellowed, trampling through the void — sweeping forward like a flood.
Several among them sneered coldly, sweeping a glance toward Ye Fan’s position. Were it not for nearly a hundred cultivators standing between them, a battle would very likely have broken out.
“Show-offs with nothing behind it. This seat will fight all of you — count on it!” Long Ma called out.
Every few dozen people, another dominant figure emerged, forcing those around them back, carving out an open path, saturating the area with a powerful fighting spirit.
Inevitably, the space around Ye Fan also saw someone asserting dominance — seeking to claim the main road, seeking to shake the Dao-hearts of the other rivals.
It had to be said — that middle-aged Daoist nun was formidable. Battle energy radiated from her and choked the air out of those nearby, forcing cultivators on all four sides to bear the pressure and continuously retreat.
Her golden-winged Roc was even more untameable and arrogant. It lorded over all the heroes around it. Golden Roc wings flashed with light, golden divine radiance splitting the air — overwhelmingly dominant.
Everyone in this area retreated — except Ye Fan, alone on his mount, who stayed put. Long Ma freed his pace and moved toward the city gate.
The middle-aged Daoist nun’s eyes turned cold and sharp. The golden-winged Roc she rode blazed with surging divine light, its entire form blindingly brilliant, transforming into a bolt of golden lightning and giving chase. It spread out a pair of immense wings that blotted out the heavens, stretched forward razor-sharp talons that flickered with cutting cold light, and struck at Ye Fan’s body — attempting to tear him apart.
Long Ma roared in fury and was about to strike back — but in that moment, Ye Fan, with perfect calm, drew a black spear from his side. His torso did not move. Only his right hand gripped the darkened-gold spear and coldly thrust it forward.
It was too fast — faster than anyone’s eyes, faster than anyone’s reaction. A bolt of black lightning pierced through the sky. Blood rained. Roc feathers fell.
The Roc let out only a brief and urgent cry of agony. Ye Fan, cold as a god of war, had run the spear straight through the golden-winged Roc’s skull in a single thrust — and killed it where it stood.
Blood ran down the black spear in rivulets, a sight that struck hard into the eyes. Ye Fan sat steady on his horse’s back, steady as bedrock. The moment froze here.
“That was a half-Saint grade Roc — and it was… killed in a single strike. Who is this person?”
The area nearby erupted. Everyone’s hearts pounded with shock. This powerhouse who had seemed so silent and reserved — absolutely not someone to be provoked.
The middle-aged Daoist nun shot into the sky, evading the spear’s thrust. Her expression turned to fury. Rolling battle energy cracked the heavens. With a sharp command, she was about to sweep down and kill.
A chorus of shouts came from atop the towering city walls. The soldiers raised their long halberds and iron spears, staring coldly down at those below.
“No one is to engage in open combat here!”
The words carried tremendous force and brought everyone under control — for if anyone caused a disturbance, they would likely lose their qualification to take part in the supreme trial.
“Crack!”
Ye Fan shook his arm — with a single motion the spear thrust out sideways, aimed at the southern sky. The Roc’s body was blasted apart in four directions. Blood rained down, and everyone was sent stumbling back in alarm.
One person, one mount — moving toward the city gates. Ten years of campaigns had left his battle garments in tatters and streaked with dried blood. Long Ma was no different — yet though they bore no brilliant gleaming armor, they carried an unstoppable, all-conquering killing energy that struck awe into the hearts of all who saw them.
One person, one mount moved forward. Before the immense city, silence reigned. Everyone watched as they walked toward the gates. Nothing in their path offered the slightest obstruction.