Ye Fan was shaken to the utmost extreme. His body transformed into a beam of light as he chased after her, but in the end, he saw nothing at all — the Ruthless Being had dissolved into illusion, that pitiful, lonely little girl vanishing without a trace.
He hadn’t managed to see her face clearly, couldn’t be certain — only those clear, pure eyes remained unforgettable, seared into his heart.
“Why did she disappear so quickly?” Ye Fan murmured, waves of turmoil surging within him.
He thought of many things — those pure eyes had made his heart tremble, feeling somehow familiar, somehow pitiful, touching something deep within him, his emotions churning.
Unfortunately, as the Ruthless Being transformed into that three- or four-year-old girl, the ghost-face mask had only slowly faded away, that childish little face flashing past in an instant, impossible to truly see clearly, shrouded in a layer of chaotic mist.
Ye Fan’s emotions surged, taking a long time to settle. He thought of many things — could it be that the Ruthless Being had never truly died? What an astonishing thing that would be!
It shouldn’t be possible — every sign indicated that no one in this world could achieve true eternal life; immortality was far too illusory, something no one could achieve, a problem that had stumped every supreme Great Emperor throughout history.
Even if eternal life existed, one would need to enter the Immortal Realm — it was simply impossible within this world!
Ye Fan fell silent, as if turned to stone, standing there in a daze for a long while, gazing up at the heavens without speaking.
He believed only in the present life — neither the past nor the life to come mattered to him; he had never believed in such things, had never once let them dwell in his heart.
Yet now, he felt a flicker of confusion. Those tear-filled eyes, that pitiful little girl — why had they made his heart suspicious?
Ye Fan felt somewhat lost. Had someone truly achieved it — endless reincarnation without death, in this very world? This conflicted with everything he understood, throwing him into contradiction.
Time passed slowly. Ye Fan remained motionless, luminous rain falling all around him, his body seeming to dissolve — he had nearly become one with the Dao!
In a sudden jolt, he awoke, startled to find himself standing at the very edge of danger — he had come within a hair’s breadth of transforming into pure Dao principle, merging into the heavenly punishment, becoming part of the order and structure of heaven and earth itself.
This was more terrifying than surviving ten life-and-death battles combined — just one step further, and he would have merged with the Dao, ceasing to exist from that point onward!
“It nearly shook my resolve, nearly left me lost in confusion — this… perhaps this is the true meaning of this tribulation. No matter what else, believe in one’s own Dao, and walk forward regardless.” Ye Fan murmured to himself, gradually regaining clarity, his eyes flashing with sharp light as he temporarily set aside everything that had just occurred.
“The most breathtaking of all the Great Emperors — truly formidable!” Ye Fan said to himself.
The Ruthless Being, breathtaking through all ages, had possessed an actual voice — unlike any other Great Emperor he had encountered, as if she still retained her living will, imprinted upon heaven and earth itself, rather than being merely governed by the tribulation.
Ye Fan’s body, shattered all over, began to heal as the Secret of the Zhe Character circulated, golden blood flowing backward, bones crackling and popping, taking a long while before he was restored to peak condition once more.
When he opened his eyes again, two beams of golden light shot outward, piercing through the tribulation, causing all the great saints outside the sea of thunder to startle, their hearts stirring with recognition, expressions filled with shock.
Within the palace hall, Ye Fan’s expression froze — the Cauldron of the Myriad Mother Qi now bore a seventh hole, though he had never seen the Ruthless Being actually pierce through it.
This was the imprint of a human figure, its curves graceful and beautiful, clearly that of a woman, branded upon the cauldron’s wall, carrying a mysterious and supreme Dao charm, lifelike and vivid.
Ye Fan stood observing it for a long while, then pushed open the hall’s doors, his steps firm and resolute, walking forward in search of the next celestial palace. He wanted to press on to the very end, to see just who else he would encounter.
The eighth celestial palace was extraordinarily magnificent, a special kind of power flowing through it, faint and elusive — this did not feel like the ancient pavilion of a single person, but rather one that seemed to contain all living beings, the myriad of creation itself.
Indeed, this sensation felt very real — this palace was not cold or empty in the slightest; it seemed as though spirit after spirit was here, praying, chanting scripture.
This felt deeply mysterious. The magnificent, colossal palace, vast and imposing, taller than any mountain, stood here, suppressing eternity itself.
“Who is here?” Ye Fan felt a flicker of doubt — this palace was simply too extraordinary, magnificent and vast beyond measure, making one want to kneel and submit involuntarily.
“Boom!”
Ye Fan pushed open the hall’s doors. In that instant, he felt a supreme, majestic presence, as if a heavenly emperor sat enthroned above, gazing down upon him.
And in this very moment, a great clamor rushed toward him, filling his ears!
Coming from outside, he found himself deeply unaccustomed to this — it was a massive contrast, as if this were an entirely different world, boundless and endless. Everywhere were living beings, roars, chanted scriptures, prayers, all intertwining together, deafening and overwhelming, suddenly rushing at him all at once, utterly shocking.
This was all too sudden, incomprehensible.
Within this magnificent celestial pavilion, all the living beings of the myriad heavenly realms knelt prostrate upon the ground, as if in worship, filled with the utmost reverence, chanting ancient sacrificial hymns.
“What… is happening here?” Ye Fan’s gaze turned sharp, sweeping across every figure present.
Ten thousand spirits coexisting, all filled with reverence and awe, all the living beings worshipping a deity — the scene was grand beyond measure, leaving one utterly bewildered.
It was as if three thousand ancient Buddhas chanted in unison, as if ten thousand demon lords roared together, intertwining, shaking the very soul, leaving one unable to resist the urge to kneel and prostrate in worship.
This was an extraordinarily spectacular sight — all living beings paying homage, all races venerating a single deity, releasing all manner of divine sounds, resounding and rumbling, deafening to the ear.
As if this had transcended the primordial age itself, echoing forth from that prehistoric era.
Ye Fan’s expression turned grave, a crack splitting open across his forehead bone, releasing wisp after wisp of crystalline immortal radiance. With a hissing sound, phantom image after phantom image shattered, all transforming into bolts of lightning.
He resisted that vast, overwhelming pressure, sweeping away the phantom images of the myriad races worshipping here one by one, gradually restoring order and calm to this place.
To be precise, that was not truly a sacrificial hymn — merely strands of order-chains resembling deities, though appearing remarkably real, differing from the true voice the Ruthless Being had spoken with.
But even this was shocking enough — what kind of person was this, that ten thousand spirits would worship him, devoutly, kneeling upon the ground in reverence?
Within Ye Fan’s forehead bone, the immortal radiance grew even more intense, as he advanced step by step, vast numbers of spirit-phantoms dissolving into nothingness, everything collapsing as the order-chains broke apart.
Eventually, he grew somewhat alarmed, for some of the phantom images were extraordinarily lifelike, resembling true deities — what kind of scene was this? Even gods knelt upon the ground, kowtowing in worship toward the most majestic figure at the heart of the celestial pavilion!
Not just one, but dozens in succession, very much resembling true deities, devoutly kowtowing, worshipping that supremely majestic figure above.
Ye Fan swung his golden fists, his eyes blazing with divine light, sweeping through everything in his path, until those phantom lights finally vanished entirely.
These spirits possessed no true combat power, formed merely of lightning and Dao principle — otherwise, Ye Fan would have had to face the mightiest of every race, even deities themselves, a scene beyond imagination!
At the center of this celestial palace sat a majestic supreme being, as if seated high above the ninth heaven, gazing down upon all the worlds, the universe and all its six directions and eight wildernesses, utterly supreme and unrivaled.
This was a tremendous, commanding presence, a vast pressure radiating outward naturally, causing all the heavenly realms to tremble — everything originating from the single person seated upon that throne.
His entire body radiated wisps of light — the earlier scenes of all beings worshipping, all races venerating him together, were precisely what these thousands upon thousands of radiant wisps had reflected.
One could imagine that this had truly happened before, and what was unfolding now was merely history replaying itself. He possessed supreme majesty, causing every powerful being across the heavenly realms to bow in worship.
Who was this? To possess such a vast presence, truly commanding the entire world, surveying the boundless universe, supreme and unrivaled through all eternity.
Ye Fan felt a tremendous pressure, as if heavenly blades were tearing through his flesh. He locked eyes with this figure, wanting to see everything about him clearly.
This person remained utterly still, like a boulder, sitting quietly there, gazing at him coldly and indifferently, his figure blurred, impossible to make out clearly.
“The Undying Heavenly Sovereign!”
Ye Fan stared at him, and after a long moment, uttered these four words — every sign pointed to this conclusion; it had to be him!
Through all of history, who else could possess such overwhelming might? Emperor Zun should have it too, commanding the boundless universe, revered by all the gods.
But this person didn’t feel like him. He shouldn’t be.
Ye Fan sensed something familiar about him, a sense of déjà vu — the Heavenly Sovereign’s Son, whom he had once slain, had carried traces of this person’s presence within him.
The Undying Heavenly Sovereign was an unsurpassable legend among the primordial races of ancient times — in that era, heaven and earth alike revered only him, worshipped by every race.
In the hearts of every race, he was a being that transcended even the gods themselves!
“Finally, I meet him…” Ye Fan murmured to himself.
Over all these years, since setting foot on the cultivation path and coming into contact with the primordial races, his ears had grown calloused from hearing of the Undying Heavenly Sovereign — every race’s reverence for him had reached an extreme, enduring without fading, still spoken of to this very day.
The Heavenly Sovereign’s Son’s constitution had once been hailed as the greatest under heaven, surpassing all others, unmatched, his blood flowing with five-colored divine essence — a single year of cultivation for him surpassed a century for ordinary people.
His supremely powerful bloodline and invincible constitution had been personally experienced by both Ye Fan and the Sage Emperor’s Son — even when suppressed, he had been extraordinarily difficult to kill; had his resolve not wavered, had he received more tempering, he would surely have become one of the most terrifying beings of this era.
And now, Ye Fan had finally met the Heavenly Sovereign’s Son’s father — the true source of that invincible bloodline, the Undying Heavenly Sovereign worshipped by all races!
Though his figure remained blurred, faintly one could make out a resemblance to the Heavenly Sovereign’s Son — yet without that immaturity, without that restless impatience. This person was deep and unfathomable as an abyss, as towering as a mountain, sitting quietly there, making one’s very spirit feel on the verge of collapse.
Boom!
As Ye Fan faced him, his golden blood energy surged upward like blazing flame, dancing and leaping. His expression turned resolute, his eyes brilliant, showing not a trace of fear before this legend renowned through all ages.
“Boom!”
The Undying Heavenly Sovereign rose to his feet, and heaven and earth trembled at once. His eyes shimmered with five-colored radiance, remarkably real, as if truly composed of flesh and blood! He stared at the broken, damaged cauldron atop Ye Fan’s head, gazing at it silently, before stepping forward, one step at a time.
This was a tremendous cataclysm — merely by walking forward on foot, all the heavenly realms seemed to shake, the great Dao of heaven and earth rumbling and roaring.
He seemed to be swallowing and exhaling the sun, moon, and stars themselves, possessing an incomparably vast presence — this truly no longer resembled a person at all, but genuinely seemed to be a being that had transcended divinity itself!
Ye Fan struck out, throwing a punch forward, his golden fist shattering the eternal void — no matter who stood before him, even if it were the Undying Heavenly Sovereign himself blocking his path, he would strike him down from his throne!
Once set upon this path, there was no turning back — sheer cliffs rose on either side, ten thousand feet deep, leaving only the path forward, a road of bloody battle, bones filling the abyss along the Emperor’s Path all the way to its very peak.
With a thunderous boom, the eternal blue sky shook violently, as the two fists collided head-on!