A single roar split mountains and rivers asunder. The arriving figure’s aura devoured ten thousand miles, cleaving across the heavens like a great sacred peak suppressing the eight wastelands, unleashing the Six Paths Reincarnation Fist in an unstoppable advance.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The Sacred Spirit Ao Mang — renowned as having no equal — chose not to meet this blow head-on. He tumbled sideways, evading the full brunt of the strike, his expression filled with deep shock as he steadied himself in the distance.
In that moment, a force surged through the entire sky. The newcomer’s fist power dominated heaven and earth — it was not something Ao Mang could simply dodge by rolling to the side. The sound was deafening, like the vast sea of stars collapsing, rumbling without cease.
This was a towering and magnificent figure. When he swung his fists, all nine heavens and ten earths, all six directions and eight wastelands trembled violently, shaking fiercely with each movement of his fists!
Ao Mang was forced to retreat again, leaping out of the Great Moon Slope. Deep astonishment filled his eyes. Who was this person, whose fist force was so supremely domineering? Truly worthy of being called divine might that overawed the world!
Everyone stood dumbfounded. The newcomer had repelled the Sacred Spirit Ao Mang with a single punch — an act of peerless, world-shaking divine power that drew every eye present.
Whether human cultivators, foreign races, or ancient beasts — all were left gaping in disbelief. That was a Sacred Spirit, renowned as unrivaled under the Quasi-Emperor realm!
The newcomer had needed only one punch to force Ao Mang back again and again!
On the other side, Mo Pu’s face had gone pale. A portion of his cultivation had been carved away, leaving him in agonizing pain. In his haste, he could not spare attention for his confrontation with Ye Fan and flew sideways as well, gazing up at the figure in the sky.
At this moment, the Great Moon Slope fell utterly silent. In the burial ground of gods and demons, one could have heard a needle drop.
This was a tall man of extraordinary build. Dense black hair cascaded loose across his chest and back, and his skin was the color of ancient bronze — powerful and full of strength.
He stood like a great mountain range rising to the sky, like a vast deep sea stretching to the horizon, his aura swallowing a hundred thousand miles, like a divine being gazing down upon the vast earth.
“Senior!” Ye Fan cried out, his heart surging with turbulent emotion.
The Old Madman!
It was actually him. After several decades, he had never imagined they would meet again. Ye Fan’s heart was overwhelmed with excitement — he had long assumed he would never see this person again in this lifetime.
Years ago, during the battle in the ancient Ziwei Star Region, it had been a situation where death was nearly certain. The Old Madman had faced an entire shipful of Ancient Saints alone — three Great Saints among them!
That battle had been too brutal. He had gone alone against a shipful of Ancestor Kings. Afterward, only blood-stained fragments of a purple bronze warship had fallen to the ground — nothing else remained visible.
No one had believed he could survive. The most ideal outcome anyone had imagined was that he had died for his Dao, taking an entire ship of Ancient Kings down with him as burial companions.
Decades had passed, yet Ye Fan had never expected to reunite with the Old Madman on the Ancient Starry Sky Road.
Over the years, the Old Madman’s bearing had grown even more striking than before. Now he appeared neither as the white-haired elder he had once been, nor the recklessly youthful figure from the Ziwei battle — instead he looked like a man in his prime.
He stood tall and upright, his hair lustrous and thick, his eyes deep and unfathomable, like an ancient god standing still — commanding without anger.
The Old Madman gave Ye Fan a nod, then shifted his gaze once more to lock onto the Sacred Spirit Ao Mang who had retreated, composed and steady.
Among the assembled human cultivators, a great clamor broke out. At this critical juncture, such a formidable expert had arrived — someone who had actually forced an unrivaled Sacred Spirit to retreat. Every person present was stirred beyond measure. This was undeniably a cultivator without peer in this era.
“Who are you?” From the ground below, Mo Pu bellowed. A stream of cyan energy rose along the surface of his stone face — having a portion of his cultivation sliced away gnawed at him like a thousand ants biting at his heart.
From the distance, the Sacred Spirit Ao Mang said in a low, cold voice: “Another human guardian of the Dao? At your level of cultivation, you should understand the great upheaval sweeping through this star region. Do you truly believe you alone can defy the heavens?”
He advanced step by step. His unrivaled status beneath the Quasi-Emperor realm was not a claim he had made himself — it was a hard-won reputation forged through battle by the Sacred Spirit lineage across the ages.
The Old Madman leaned close and murmured something to the Daoist of the Azure Phoenix — inaudible to anyone else, sealed off from the sky around them. The Daoist of the Azure Phoenix gave a slight nod.
Ye Fan was taken aback. No wonder the Daoist of the Azure Phoenix had not caught the green bronze cauldron earlier — had he already known the Old Madman was coming?
BOOM!
From within the ancient well came a thunderous vibration! As if some enormous creature within was slamming against the walls, trying to break free. The sound shook people’s very souls, and many felt their bodies swaying.
Flames roared and leaped. Within the immortal mist and firelight, the elderly Sacred Fire Spirit half-closed his eyes. Two dazzling divine beams shot out from within the haze, still unmoving, continuing to steadily dissolve the seal.
Ye Fan felt a heaviness in his heart. This was a terrifying fire spirit that stood above Ao Mang, not below him. If this being also joined the fight, could even the Old Madman withstand it?
One had to remember — these were Sacred Spirits, beings that embodied invincibility. Rare were those in all the world who could stand against them. Encountering one was enough to leave anyone dazed and afraid.
“Just a human — still not enough. In the same realm, our lineage is unrivaled; humans are nothing but insects!” Mo Pu said with barely concealed hatred. He desperately hoped the fire spirit would intervene and go up to slaughter this person who had appeared out of nowhere and carved away his cultivation.
“I refuse to believe that humans can defeat our Sacred Spirit lineage.” From the sky above, Ao Mang said coldly, his entire bearing utterly transformed. One of his palms was now wreathed in swirling blood-energy, as the stone composition gave way to flesh and blood.
“What?!” Everyone gasped in unison. This was a terrifying metamorphosis — only a Sacred Spirit who had touched upon this domain could be considered qualified to glimpse the Emperor’s path.
The Old Madman gave a nod to the Daoist of the Azure Phoenix, then launched into a charge toward Ao Mang — wielding the sun, moon, mountains, and rivers as his weapons. Before his fists, all things in heaven and earth, all the cosmos and its starry rivers, manifested simultaneously.
The great battle erupted!
This was a clash at the absolute pinnacle — faster than imagination, terrifying to the extreme. The two figures crashed into each other.
“Our Sacred Spirit lineage is unrivaled at the same realm!” Mo Pu bellowed from the ground below, cyan energy rising across his face as he clenched his fists.
At this moment, many in the crowd felt conflicted. They both hoped the Old Madman was the legendary Quasi-Emperor of myth, capable of sweeping all before him and crushing the Sacred Spirit chaos with a wave of his hand — and simultaneously hoped he was a Great Saint who, at the same realm, could slay a Sacred Spirit and establish a thunderous legend, utterly shatter the Sacred Spirits’ confidence and trample their pride.
“You — come forward — and meet your death!” Ye Fan walked ahead, addressing Mo Pu: “I will break you apart at the same realm!”
Mo Pu’s expression was cold and made no reply. He sat cross-legged before the fire spirit, requesting assistance to restore his cultivation. Without that, the shadow over his entire life would never lift.
BOOM!
The battle in the sky was extraordinarily fast. At just the first exchange, the Old Madman and Ao Mang were already contending for their lives in a peak-level clash.
Six ancient cosmic cycles of reincarnation manifested, evolving all things. The starry rivers surged and blazed. A Vermilion Bird cleaved across the nine heavens. The Old Madman’s single punch shook antiquity and illuminated the present — and in its wake, an ancient chanting of scriptures arose.
A strike without equal — blood-energy piercing through sun and moon, heaven and earth as if entering a cycle of reincarnation, plunging all into a terrifying scene.
Splat!
Blood flew. The Sacred Spirit Ao Mang’s right fist exploded apart. It had been his most powerful blow, transformed into a fist of flesh and blood, with the primordial laws that heaven and earth had instilled within him at birth branded deep within each finger.
Yet still it could not withstand the Six Paths Reincarnation Fist. The refined essence of flesh and blood, forged into a sacred fist of the flesh, was shattered by the Old Madman in one blow.
As it had always been. Just as in the ancient Ziwei Star Region, the Old Madman had fought his battles and decided life and death in a single instant.
The invincible truth he wielded moved ever forward, carrying the conviction that he alone was without equal, unleashing his strongest blow, determining victory and defeat in the span of a breath.
“The Great Saint realm!”
Everyone froze. With the power of a Great Saint, the Old Madman had shattered the Sacred Spirit Ao Mang’s sacred blood-fist of flesh — what unparalleled dominance was this? Breathtaking beyond all ages.
This was a Sacred Spirit — who did not understand what that signified? Yet this being had been shattered by a single punch from a human at the same realm. The entire world was stunned.
On the ground, Mo Pu let out a great cry. Just moments ago he had been proclaiming that their lineage was undefeatable at the same level — and now that myth had been shattered with a single punch. It was as if that punch had landed squarely on his own face.
This human was too terrifying. How could any human being contend with a Sacred Spirit’s physical body?
Throughout all of history, human victories against Sacred Spirits had always relied on superior Dao cultivation and mystical power — yet now someone had chosen to challenge them precisely where they were strongest, and had broken the aura of invincibility.
“Ahhh…” Ao Mang was consumed with agony. His right fist was severed at the wrist, dripping with blood. The physical pain was nothing — but the crushing sense of defeat was driving him mad.
“Kill!” He roared, fully unleashing the sacred spirit blood that coursed through his body, fighting his opponent with total disregard for the cost.
The Old Madman stood tall and powerful, his bronze-colored body flashing with divine brilliance. He stepped forward, and again — in a gesture both simple and domineering — threw a single punch. This time it was even more vast and mighty, carrying the divine power of all the cosmos and all creation.
BOOM! A vast and thunderous blast. This was the resolve of invincibility — sweeping away everything rotten and decayed, shattering all that stood in its way!
Splat!
The Sacred Spirit Ao Mang cried out. His entire body cracked like shattered porcelain. This punch shattered his arm, then drove straight through his chest. Sacred Spirit blood sprayed in all directions, dyeing the high heavens crimson red.
It was an inconceivable sight — frozen in time — leaving countless mouths dry and countless spirits trembling.
It was like a myth made real. Who else could be so savage? At the same Great Saint realm, two punches were all it had taken to drive straight through an invincible Sacred Spirit — domineering, overwhelming, utterly sovereign.
“Ahhh…” Ao Mang let out a heart-rending scream. The crushing sense of defeat was worse than the physical pain.
CRACK!
The Old Madman raised his arm. The fist that had pierced the stone body shook forcefully — and the Sacred Spirit was torn into four pieces, blood running freely.
Everyone was left dumbstruck. This magnificent man was so overwhelmingly powerful — almost beyond belief. Every single person was shaken to the absolute core of their being.
Only Ye Fan knew: this was simply how the Old Madman was. Though he had thrown only two punches, that did not mean this had been a simple confrontation — for each punch had contained his invincible will, delivered with the utmost gravity, surpassing what a thousand or a hundred punches of ordinary exchange could convey.
Suddenly, a fierce roar rang out, carrying supreme and absolute authority, sweeping across all nine heavens and ten earths, shaking the ancient star itself into a violent tremble.
The fire spirit who had been seated at the mouth of the well finally moved. He rose into the air, trailing a heaven-swallowing tide of flames capable of burning the entire world to nothing!
Immortal fire leaped and danced as he stood within the radiant mist — like a divine demon gazing down, radiating a suffocating pressure that nearly drove many Saints to their knees.
This was a supreme being, far more powerful and terrifying than Ao Mang. Now, as part of the mist dispersed, he revealed a pair of arms formed of genuine flesh and blood.
The fire spirit’s form — both arms now manifested in flesh and blood — surpassed Ao Mang!
The stone figure Ao Mang had needed only one step to enter the Quasi-Emperor realm; but this Sacred Fire Spirit lacked only a single thread — the moment that paper-thin barrier was pierced, he would stand far above all others, becoming the unrivaled sovereign beneath the heavens of the starry sky!
Yet still that single thread separated him from it. The Sacred Spirit Cang Yan had not managed to step into the Quasi-Emperor realm — he remained within the domain of the Great Saint.
Of course, having reached this point, he was nearly as one who had attained divine understanding — separated only by a single thread. Once it was crossed, it would be the grand road of an Emperor’s transformation, reaching to the highest heavens.
The Sacred Fire Spirit Cang Yan transformed into a torrent of immortal flame and charged forward, instantly reassembling the shattered pieces of Ao Mang back together. Then he began to chant ancient scriptures aloud — the resonance of the Dao shook the world, as though crossing vast stretches of time from the primordial ages.
That chanting carried a profoundly extraordinary power!
Ao Mang barely managed to reconstitute himself — still alive — and swallowed a divine elixir, swaying where he stood, utterly depleted.
“What a powerful member of the human race. It makes one wonder whether you were born of our Sacred Spirit lineage’s own flesh and blood.” Cang Yan spoke, his eyes gleaming brightly. His entire body radiated immortal divine brilliance — as if he could break free of his shackles and enter the Quasi-Emperor realm at any moment.
Strands of immortal flame coiled around him. His entire being was as clear and pure as divine crystal — like a god descended into the mortal world. The mere fluctuation of his blood-energy was enough to make Saints tremble. How could anyone fight this?!
The world knew it well: Sacred Spirits were invincible. Let alone one such as this! Once that thin barrier was pierced, nothing above or below the heavens could match him — and already he bore this terrifying aura.
The Old Madman also burst with undying divine radiance from his entire body, releasing power of incomparable supremacy — for the opponent he now faced was a peerless enemy without equal.
In this moment, a wondrous sight appeared upon him.
His five great secret realms — the Wheel Sea, the Dao Palace, the Four Poles, the Dragon Transformation, and the Immortal Platform — all began to glow with crystal brilliance. Within every single secret realm, something was taking shape: an immortal cocoon, each one transparent and clearly visible.
The crowd was astonished. This was something beyond comprehension — far too mysterious. Yet every single person could see it clearly: this was no ordinary Great Saint!