A sixteen-foot Bodhi tree stood with bark that had split open, each piece the size of a palm, resembling dragon scales, exuding an ancient and vigorous vitality. The entire tree shimmered with lush green, swaying with radiant wisdom-light, its leaves crystalline and translucent one by one.
The Bodhi tree, also known as the Thinking Tree, the Enlightenment Tree, and the Wisdom Tree, has always been revered as a sacred tree in Buddhist teachings. Legend holds that both Amitabha Buddha and Shakyamuni attained enlightenment beneath its branches, achieving complete and perfect awakening.
“To see the Bodhi is to see the Buddha” — this saying has spread far and wide.
In truth, the Immortality Medicine had lived through ages both ancient and recent, spanning from antiquity to the present, having known many masters and accompanied different Great Emperors. Before this Bodhi Immortal Tree’s nirvana, it had once been possessed by the emperors of the primordial era and the Celestial Venerables of the mythological age — though those old affairs gradually faded into the mists of time. Nowadays, when most people heard of the Bodhi tree, their thoughts turned to the Buddhist faith.
Now, Ye Fan also sought enlightenment beneath the Bodhi tree, attaining the path of this lifetime and comprehending the fruit of an invincible Dharma. His hands traced inexplicable trajectories as wind and thunder shook the heavens and lightning flashed — as though he were opening up the cosmos itself.
When this secret art appeared, the heaven and earth trembled, as though some nameless being was wailing in mourning. Ten thousand paths across all the heavens lay prostrate beneath his feet.
Without doubt, this was a wild Dao — peerless under heaven — yet it was only a rough form. The next moment, the wind calmed and the waves stilled. Ye Fan began forming seals, centered and harmonious, his bearing completely different from moments before.
“What law and Dao is he trying to manifest? Why has he stopped? I cannot see through it.” Everyone wore expressions of confusion as they watched intently.
BOOM!
Heaven crumbled and earth split. Ye Fan pressed his hands together as though cradling a mountain — this was the secret art he had obtained when he first rose to prominence. A great black mountain took shape between his palms.
This was the Mountain-Embracing Seal. Struck out in one blow, it seemed capable of crushing the countless stars scattered across the sky. Its power had grown by an unknowable number of times compared to those early days. Without the gold-source art’s colored veining and the dense ancient void formation patterns to contain it, it would certainly have shocked the entire world and shaken all eight cardinal directions.
After practicing the Mountain-Embracing Seal, Ye Fan suddenly changed again. His hands moved as though seizing a dragon, and eighty-one azure dragons merged into one, coiling around his body — the sight resembling an ancient Dao Venerable reopening heaven and earth.
His entire being surged with boiling blood and vital energy, emanating a nameless life-force aura of boundless vitality, like a true dragon merging with the Dao. This was the True Dragon Seal, obtained from Wang Teng’s younger brother.
In the next moment, the true dragon shattered. His bearing shifted once more — he became the lord of humanity, unleashing the Human King Seal. It cleaved apart heaven and earth, carved open rivers of stars, and from the tips of his fingers radiated ten thousand feet of brilliant light.
Those watching were baffled. Was Ye Fan reviewing his past techniques?
With a thunderous rumble, his right hand filled with surging blood and instantly magnified many times over, becoming like a celestial monument of stone. Golden runes flickered as he turned his palm and slapped downward — ferocious in its power.
It seemed to overturn the heavens and annihilate the world. This was the Heaven-Overturning Seal.
Ye Fan continued manifesting techniques one after another. Behind him, five-colored divine light bloomed, and five precious swords cleaved through heaven and earth. Then a golden treasury opened, ringing out with a resounding clang as various golden weapons flew and danced, shattering through the nine layers of heaven.
When the Great Void Technique appeared, Ji Haoyue’s eyes flickered and he glanced at his younger sister. Ji Ziyue’s large eyes swept upward, gazing toward the high heavens, pointedly ignoring him.
Hum!
When Ye Fan opened his mouth and roared out a Dao diagram, Ji Haoyue looked over at “little moon,” wondering how many cultivation techniques she had taught away. This was the Innate Supreme Void Steel Qi.
“That has nothing to do with me — he figured that out on his own,” Ji Ziyue disavowed.
Ye Fan gave birth to ten thousand techniques, from what he had learned in the past to what he had comprehended in the present, continuously deducing and evolving. When the Six Paths Reincarnation Fist also appeared, everyone’s expression changed. The vigor was vast and surging, supremely firm and supremely yang — perfectly in accord with Ye Fan’s golden blood and vital energy, an ideal match for his path.
The Six Paths Reincarnation Fist transformed into six ancient universes, manifesting the myriad things of creation, encompassing all living beings of the cosmos — terrifying beyond measure.
“He is manifesting ten thousand techniques. What kind of path is he trying to walk — what kind of law is he trying to create?”
“He clearly intends to smelt all ancient arts into a single furnace and forge his own great technique.”
Ye Fan’s bearing transformed once more — his domineering aura knew no bounds. He resembled a war god, striking with broad and sweeping movements, even causing his golden blood and vital energy to explode outward, bordering on madness.
Everyone was stunned. Long Ma in particular cried out in alarm: “Could he have been possessed by someone from the Hegemon’s lineage of the Domineering Heavenly Blood?”
This was the Hegemon’s Fist. Ye Fan had obtained it from the Hegemon that day, and now in manifesting it, he had clearly grasped its true meaning — no weaker than the Hegemon-Body of that time, and even more outstanding.
His domineering aura was boundless and peerless, his entire body surging with a manic vital-force aura — as though he would sweep through the three thousand great worlds and rage in battle across the nine heavens and ten earths.
Finally, Ye Fan calmed once more, manifesting secret techniques, deconstructing ancient arts, and refining their true meanings. Just now he had been like a great river rushing forth; now he was like the vast ocean in stillness — his essence coiling into waves stretching ten thousand miles, heavy and magnificent.
Beneath the Bodhi tree, a person continuously manifested his own Dao and techniques. From the Mountain-Embracing Seal to the Primordial Magnetic Divine Technique to the Six Paths Reincarnation Fist — all dissolved into the most fundamental individual runes.
One technique, one rune. He deconstructed, unfolded, and refined his own Dharma — comprehending his own Dao — striving to forge a far more terrifying great technique.
Ye Fan’s movements grew slower and slower, yet also increasingly profound and intricate. The trajectories were complex — though his speed was very slow, it dazzled the eyes and was impossible to follow.
This was a Dao pulsing with life, carrying a vigorous and magnificent aura, yet also possessing a fathomless depth like an abyss — all expressed through the movements of his two hands.
BOOM!
He exerted slightly more force, the rhythm accelerating just a fraction, and right then the vault of heaven shattered. The silver moon hanging in the sky trembled, nearly tumbling down.
Everyone was stunned. This place had been sealed with various formation arrays — from source-art gold veining to some of the ancient void formation’s runes — yet they were punched clean through. Such force was truly astonishing.
“This is a fist technique — fused with the Heaven-Overturning Seal, the Six Paths Reincarnation Fist, the Five-Colored Divine Light, the Golden Divine Treasury, the Hegemon’s Fist, and more. No — he is transcending them. This is the nirvana of a fist technique, severing all ties to those ancient arts. He has created his own great technique!” Pang Bo murmured to himself.
“He is still perfecting it, but it already looks excessively powerful — this is the technique most perfectly suited to him!” Ji Haoyue’s gaze was sharp, perceiving the terrifying implications within, and he could not help but draw a sharp, cold breath.
Ye Fan’s fist had no fixed form. Moving freely according to his heart, driven by intent alone — at one moment supremely firm, at another supremely soft, at another centered and harmonious, upright and majestic.
The Bodhi tree swayed. The crystalline and translucent green leaves covering the entire tree shone like Dao talismans, and the sound of chanted sutras arose — serene and tranquil.
Since ancient times to the present, it was unknown how many Celestial Venerables and Great Emperors had stood beneath this tree to manifest their own techniques and Dao. Now Ye Fan did the same, seeking enlightenment beneath the Bodhi tree.
As time passed, Ye Fan’s secret art gradually clarified and manifested into a peerless fist technique — supreme and unrivaled, as though he alone stood invincible, his spirit swallowing ten thousand miles.
He was like the Heavenly Emperor descended to the mortal world. Each time he spread his arms, it was as though he were pushing the stars of all the heavens forward — rolling and thunderous, astonishing the world.
“It is still not perfected — still striving toward flawlessness,” Ji Haoyue said.
“The Heavenly Emperor’s Fist… he has truly set out upon this path!” Pang Bo sighed softly.
Sixty or seventy years ago, when he and Ye Fan had entered the Golden Seven Cities, Ye Fan had already been contemplating this — manifesting his own Dharma, forging his own great technique — and had spoken of it to Pang Bo.
At that time, Emperor Tian had proclaimed his intent and created the Emperor Tian Fist. Pang Bo had even teased Ye Fan, saying he would counter it with the Heavenly Emperor’s Fist — never imagining that today it would truly be forged.
Ye Fan’s aura grew stronger and stronger, formless and free — as though without law or Dao — yet it became increasingly oppressive. Heaven and earth wailed in mourning, deafening to the ears.
“There is still something lacking,” Ji Ziyue said, her expression tense, for this enlightenment of Ye Fan’s was of the utmost importance — determining the heights of his future achievements.
Right now, what all the young supreme beings cared about most was their combat power ranking among peers of the same cultivation level. They all sought to be truly invincible among their generation!
Advancing through minor realm levels was less important than improving one’s combat power within a given realm. The former could be compensated for; the latter was foundational — difficult to alter without countless trials of tempering.
To improve one’s combat power while remaining within a certain realm without advancing — that was truly difficult. Yet many sought to break through those constraints and change their fundamentals.
Whether Ye Fan could achieve invincibility at the same level, standing supreme among all rivals — truly the strongest in the most meaningful sense — depended greatly on this session of comprehension.
Thirty years of painstaking effort, motionless and unmoving, with an untold number of deductions — if he were to fail now, it would be an enormous blow.
Everyone understood that at this moment Ye Fan was absolutely serious and focused. He had to strive for perfection — suppressing the Daos of others, forging the great technique most perfectly suited to himself.
“For thirty years, the Great Lord of the Golden Serpent, the Heaven-Devouring Beast, Sang Gu, the Corpse-Fiend, the Great Demon God, and Emperor Tian have all failed to appear. I believe they, like us, have been in closed cultivation — and most likely, the most terrifying blood-battles will emerge in the not-too-distant future.”
“Indeed. When Ye Fan emerges from seclusion, I estimate those others will be appearing at about the same time!”
The crowd murmured among themselves. The Azure Luan and the Black Bear Sage had ventured into the outside world to gather information. Over these years, those young supremes had kept an extremely low profile — as though they had vanished from the world entirely.
“Rumor has it that the Great Lord of the Golden Serpent has accomplished the Divine Transformation of the Soaring Serpent — nine leaps in succession, nearly achieving communion with divinity!”
“The Heaven-Devouring Beast may be right here in the Divine Demon Ridge, consuming divine blood and bones.”
“Ye Fan’s fist technique seems to remain just a thread short of perfection, unable to achieve flawlessness — not yet in complete harmony with his Dao,” Ji Ziyue said with a furrowed brow.
Beneath the Bodhi tree, Ye Fan manifested his Dao and technique again and again. The Dao was the foundational meaning; the technique was the means of expression.
He had already created his scripture — that was the direction of his path. What he needed now was an invincible blade to cut through thorns, blaze the trail ahead, and eliminate great enemies. Forging the Heavenly Emperor’s Fist was the invincible blade he was tempering!
Before the Bodhi tree, Ye Fan stood alone. His body followed his heart’s intent — a single thought reaching the six directions and the eight wastes. He unleashed the Heavenly Emperor’s Fist, transforming ten thousand ages of techniques.
Only a fraction remained — but he was not in a hurry. Seeking the technique, path, and Dao that were in complete harmony was an inherently long process. This was the road of a cultivator.
The Bodhi tree stood ancient and vigorous. The crystalline emerald leaves covering it all trembled and swayed, like a scroll of heavenly scripture ringing out, raining down beams of wisdom-light that made Ye Fan appear all the more ethereal and indistinct.
He pointed with one finger and various lights flew, shooting in all directions — actually stirring the entire Divine Demon Burial Ground.
“I see it now — he wants to survey all the techniques under heaven, comprehend the ten thousand Daos of all the heavens, and forge a supreme fist art,” Ji Ziyue said, suddenly understanding.
An unknown number of ancient divine beings and demons had been buried in this place. Each one corresponded to a great Dao. It was said that this had once been the battlefield of the mythological age, where ancient Great Emperors had taken part in battle — only the most terrifyingly powerful figures were buried here.
Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Perhaps millions — no one could say for certain.
So many supreme beings, their blood undried after death, their bones indestructible, had transformed into the Divine Demon Ridge, towering here. Each one had crystallized into a rune.
With so many divine beings and demons gathered together, encompassing all things — all the techniques of the world were contained within.
Ye Fan sat cross-legged again beneath the Bodhi tree, stirring all the runes and Daos, tempering the Heavenly Emperor’s Fist!