The universe is truly vast. Without tools like the Five-Colored Altar and the Divine Light Platform, even saints would likely lose their way and never find the path back.

The frozen celestial expanse is so immense that cultivators feel profoundly small within it. Even those who have reached the absolute pinnacle of cultivation cannot explore to the edge of this starry sky — the source of this world remains unknown.

The great cosmos is infinite and boundless. Perhaps only the Great Emperor can travel to its end and uncover the most fundamental and elementary of secrets.

In the dark universe — where neither distance nor time can be measured — Ye Fan and the others traveled for an unknown number of months. Going on like this, they felt as though they would never encounter another living soul.

When contending on the ancient path, heroes stood side by side and prodigies from multiple ancient domains came surging forward. Yet the moment one departed from those particular locations, one could journey for a thousand or ten thousand ages without encountering a trace of life.

In the boundless and limitless cosmos, desolation is the most prevalent thing. It is not a pleasant feeling. A year or two is tolerable, but if an entire lifetime were like this, it would drive one to madness.

“Humanity is so very small. The cosmos passes in the blink of an eye — perhaps countless lifetimes have already cycled through among mortals.” Ji Ziyue murmured softly.

“Compared to whom? In the single lifetime of a summer cicada, perhaps we are the immortals.” Ye Fan replied.

Through all these years of cultivation, eternal life remained out of reach. So many talented supremes had been buried beneath the yellow earth — the Venerable Emperor, the Undying Celestial Emperor, the Human Emperor, the Ruthless One, the Void, the Beginningless, the Azure Emperor, and others. How supremely exalted they had been — so breathtaking that one longed to have been born hundreds of thousands of years earlier, just to have seen them. And yet they too had all passed away, becoming dust and earth.

Perhaps the fantasy that a few of them might still be alive — held by some in this world — was the last remaining spark of encouragement for those who sought eternal life.

Ye Fan and the others returned to the human race’s ancient path. From here, there was but one goal: to proceed to the human race’s final pass and behold something fundamental and definitive.

The eighty-first holy city of the human race’s ancient path was imposing and immense, suspended in a stretch of starry sky and enveloped in silver-white starlight, appearing sacred and tranquil.

On this day, Ye Fan’s group arrived — though this was not yet the human race’s final pass. They merely passed through here to learn what had transpired over the years, and so paused to stop.

When they entered the city, it caused a sensation. A crowd surged into the streets, watching from a distance.

The battle at the Farther Shore had drawn some powerful warriors from both the human race and other clans. Everything that transpired there had been transmitted back, shaking the star domain of this region.

Ye Fan’s creation of the Heavenly Emperor Fist, his slaying of many prodigies, his shattering of so many people’s dreams of the Emperor’s path — killing until the younger generation trembled with no one daring to claim supremacy — this had become known, sending great shockwaves through the ancient star paths.

On today’s human race ancient path, the Tyrant King had been defeated; the Heaven Emperor, the Divine Maiden, the Great Demon God, and others had retreated. Who else remained to rival Ye Fan? Imperceptibly, he had become virtually invincible on this path.

“Perhaps he can now represent the human race in competition — contending for the title of the foremost power under the stars, ascending to the absolute pinnacle, and attaining the Dao to become Emperor.” This was the private speculation of some.

“This path is no easy one to walk. Of those who have become Emperor throughout history, most of their close kin and friends have died fighting because of them. This path has always been shrouded in ill omen, immeasurably arduous.”

As Ye Fan and the others entered the city and drew the gazes of the crowd, everyone watched and whispered. The name he had built through battle now resounded across dozens or even hundreds of holy cities — all eyes turned toward their group.

Many cultivators looked on and let out a soft sigh. Though Ye Fan’s blood aura was restrained, the power of his presence still pressed down on those around him until they could hardly breathe. They understood — they were far outmatched by this person.

Even among those who had traveled this far and long since abandoned any ambition for the Emperor’s path — journeying only to temper themselves so they might return to their home star grounds sufficiently powerful — even they could not help but feel a pang of loss in this moment.

Someone said sourly: “It’s not necessarily him who will have the last laugh. Back then, people favored the Tyrant King, the Heaven Emperor, the Great Demon God — and in the end, didn’t the Holy Physique rise from behind to surpass them all? It happened once, and it can happen again. The ancient path won’t close for a long time yet — who knows what kind of person breathtaking across all ages might still appear?”

“Can you find someone stronger than the Tyrant King or the Heaven Emperor?” someone retorted. The one who had spoken had nothing more to say.

“This is only the human race’s ancient path. Don’t forget — the final great collision involves the myriad heavens and domains, a confrontation among each clan’s supreme prodigies. Claiming who is the foremost power under the stars right now is still premature.”

“Not at all. In some star domains, human bloodline may not be the strongest — placed at a disadvantage — but broadly speaking, across all of the great cosmic cycles, the human race has never fallen from the top fifteen.”

As Ye Fan’s group moved through the city and drew the surrounding crowd, many began arguing heatedly among themselves, growing increasingly intense.

“According to what you’ve said, on this generation’s Emperor’s path, this person named Ye Fan is already among the top fifteen young powerhouses in the entire cosmos?”

“If nothing unexpected occurs, that should be so.”

“But don’t forget — this is a golden great age unlike any before it, incomparable to past eras. Who knows what sort of powerful figures might emerge. The descendants of the most powerful Great Emperors and Ancient Sovereigns throughout history — it’s not merely possible, it is destined that they appear, their seals broken in this very age!”

“After reaching this level of cultivation, bearing the brand of an Emperor’s child is not necessarily an advantage. Have you not noticed that throughout history, most Great Emperors came from ordinary physiques? Never has there been two Emperors from the same lineage. Moreover, after entering the Great Sage realm, what physique or bloodline matters most is no longer the deciding factor. Of those who reach that stage — not one is ordinary. Every single one has something exceptional about them.”

Pang Bo’s nascent divine sense of Favorable Wind Ears was beginning to develop, and he listened attentively, unable to suppress a smile.

Ye Fan’s celestial hearing had long since fully manifested, and he too noticed their conversation. The timing of divine abilities varied from person to person — some awakened one kind early and another kind late.

“Brother Ye!” Just then, a call rang out from within the crowd, drawing everyone’s eyes. The street fell considerably quiet — for in this age, to be on familiar terms with the Holy Physique, who had fought through a hundred battles without dying and advanced ever onward, was something of an honor in itself.

“Rui Wei.” Ye Fan turned. Before him stood this familiar figure — the slight young man from years past had actually come all the way to the eighty-first city of the human race’s ancient path. This was no small feat.

Several dozen to nearly a hundred years must have passed since they last met. Rui Wei had become a Saint, and was not far from the Saint King realm — given his aptitude, this was already remarkable.

Long ago, he and Ye Fan had entered the human race’s first pass together and had traveled the road for a time. Rui Wei’s cultivation had been weaker, but his relationship with Ye Fan had been a good one.

Meeting again now, Ye Fan was struck by many thoughts. Time flows like water — it passes so quickly. This young man whom no one had expected much of had also arrived at this place. Of those who had set out together back then, the Bitter Monk, the Feathered Immortal, Ouye Mo, and Mu Guanghan had been the strongest. He wondered what had become of them.

Rui Wei stepped forward, deeply moved. Meeting Ye Fan here, those standing nearby were even more astonished — they had not expected the two to be so closely acquainted, and a trace of reverent awe passed over their faces.

In this day and age, to be counted among Ye Fan’s companions — the one who had emerged as the foremost young supreme of the human race’s ancient path — was something that filled many with both wariness and envy.

“Tonight we drink our fill — no one leaves sober.” Ye Fan laughed, genuinely glad to see Rui Wei. He pulled him along and walked forward, introducing him to the companions around him along the way.

That evening was naturally a boisterous affair. The group clinked cups and drank freely, speaking at length about the events of recent years.

The Bitter Monk had been defeated, taken away by someone called the Golden Cicada. Ouye Mo had long since fought his way onto other ancient paths and had vanished for over fifty years. Mu Guanghan should be ahead of them. The Feathered Immortal had been taken away by a clansman, likely having gone down another path.

This was the news Rui Wei shared.

Night fell. Star clouds drifted past; a pall of darkness hung over the ancient city. Ye Fan’s eyes snapped open. Without a sound, he made his way into the courtyard, fixing his gaze on Rui Wei’s room. His expression was complex, and for a long time he did not move.

“What is it?” From the shadows, Ji Ziyue communicated through divine thought. As a Primal Spirit Physique, she was most sensitive to all manner of primordial fluctuations — not even the movements of someone as powerful as Ye Fan escaped her notice.

“I only just realized — this friend of mine may be a great evil.” Ye Fan said quietly.

“I sensed it too. He has a shadow energy within him, as though there are two souls — one of them on the verge of extinction.” Ji Ziyue said. She had long wanted to tell Ye Fan — this person was far too unusual.

“I’ll go get to the bottom of this.” With that, Ye Fan stepped forward and knocked on Rui Wei’s door.

“Do you need us to come with you?” Ji Ziyue asked.

“No need. I’ll handle it myself.” Ye Fan replied inwardly.

Rui Wei opened the door, somewhat surprised, and moved to invite him inside. But seeing Ye Fan’s expression, he was puzzled and uncertain.

“Let’s go to the starry sky.” Ye Fan suddenly made a move, stopping him in place. The next moment, they departed from the eighty-first holy city of the human race and appeared amid the brilliant river of stars.

“What are you doing, Brother Ye?” Rui Wei’s face flashed with a trace of anger.

Starlight swirled like thin mist. Ye Fan stared at him for a long time without speaking. At last, a sigh escaped him. “The murderous fiend from back then — that was you, wasn’t it. You devoured the flesh, blood, and soul bones of many cultivators.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Rui Wei stepped back, his face written over with shock and terror.

“Even now you wish to conceal it? I have become a Source Heavenly Master, and my Celestial Eye has advanced further — far beyond any other’s. I can see your true nature clearly now.” Ye Fan said calmly.

“You—” Rui Wei’s expression changed.

“To be more precise — you are not Rui Wei. His soul is nearly extinguished. You are another entity entirely.” A beam of divine light erupted from Ye Fan’s eyes, locking onto his face. At the same time, a resonant Dao-shout rang out — like a great bronze bell reverberating, deafening and awakening, stirring the depths of the soul.

Beneath this Dao-shout, Rui Wei let out a wail. He clawed at his own hair with both hands, his face twisted in agony — one moment ferocious, the next filled with grief — as tears streamed down unceasingly, and he howled: “I am Rui Wei — for my clanspeople, I would give my life, I would search the whole world to find a life-bearing star fit for them to live on — I am not a demon, I truly am not a demon! Waaah…”

Under the pressure of Ye Fan’s aura, a wisp of black Primordial Spirit was forced out from within him, roaring and sobbing in agony, wailing in grief, thrashing as though gone mad — a sorrowful, demon-energy-saturated little figure no larger than a fist.

Ye Fan pressed a finger forward, instantly binding the figure. He observed its fundamental nature of heart, and in an instant he was moved. He exhaled a soft sigh. Before him unfolded a tragic song — and he felt his heart grow heavy and oppressed.

It had been a pure land, founded by a great sage of antiquity. But now it had dried up and withered. The people there could scarcely cultivate any longer. Elders had gone out continuously, sending disciples and others to search for life-bearing stars suitable for habitation.

Then one day, a dark cloud descended upon the star domain from above, swallowing the light. A demonic entity came, having tracked the scent of a clansperson who had ventured out to search for a new home and had been consumed. The demon washed the pure land in blood, slaughtering every man, woman, elder, and child.

In a desperate last stand by several elders who gave their lives to fight it, the demonic entity was gravely wounded and near death. Only a single wisp of its Primordial Spirit remained. In the end, it consumed a young man who had been away and had just returned — seized his physical body and made it its own. That young man was Rui Wei.

Life is the greatest miracle wrought by time. Rui Wei’s will would not yield — he fought back ceaselessly. The wisp of demonic Primordial Spirit suffered further damage in the struggle. Though it ultimately erased Rui Wei’s dominant consciousness, it was never able to extinguish him completely. The two became fused as one.

Now, this half-demon, half-human black Primordial Spirit — a fused remnant of the demonic entity and Rui Wei — wept tears of blood down its face. It howled and wailed, desperate to find a suitable home for its clanspeople.

Ye Fan sighed. This being lived half in a dream, while the other half sometimes fell prey to demonic thoughts, becoming a killer in the darkness.

“I am Rui Wei — I will search to the ends of the world and bring hope to my clanspeople…” Tears coursed down its face, filled with sorrow. Its gaze was nearly hollow as it cried out in grief.

It refused to accept that it had died. It refused to accept that all its clanspeople had perished. The last wisp of the demonic entity’s Primordial Spirit was itself half-extinguished, fused with Rui Wei — becoming this strange and singular existence.

Ye Fan felt profound pity for it. He extended a finger and pressed it against the Primordial Spirit, erasing the very last remnant of the demonic entity’s own memory, allowing this peculiar form of life to coexist in this manner.

Rui Wei’s dominant consciousness had been destroyed. Were the two forcibly separated, it would dissolve into nothing. Coexistence was the only way — with Rui Wei’s memories as the foundation for this life going forward.

This way, any future threat of a demon was also eliminated. He would not kill indiscriminately again.

Ye Fan returned the Primordial Spirit to the body, erased from the soul sea all memory of what had just been seen and heard, caused him to fall unconscious, and carried him back to the eighty-first holy city of the human race.

The next day, as Ye Fan and the others set out, Rui Wei came to see them off. He still carried that same look of longing and hope. “I will certainly find a blessed land where my clanspeople can live — Brother Ye, we’ll meet again someday. When that day comes, I’ll host you with good wine in a pure land where flowers bloom and birds sing and all is full of life.”

Ye Fan nodded and did not shatter this dream of his. Let him go on pursuing it. People must have dreams — as long as the dream lives, hope lives too. For him, this was the better way.

Many people of the eighty-first human race city took to the streets to watch Ye Fan and the others depart. Among them, a young woman was also hidden in the crowd, gazing at Ye Fan’s retreating figure, slightly dazed, murmuring quietly to herself: “How can he be this powerful?”

This was Xu Li — the youngest daughter of the lord of the eighty-first city. Years ago, she had admired the Tyrant King, and together with the eldest grandson of Qi Tian, Protector of the Human Race, she had traveled to the fiftieth city to make trouble for Ye Fan. In the end, they had been captured instead and spent dozens of days working as “miners,” digging spirit sources and carving out formation trenches everywhere.

Afterward, Ye Fan had not made things difficult for them and released them all.

“The heights he will attain in the future are already beyond what you can see clearly.” The lord of the eighty-first city appeared beside his daughter and patted her shoulder, urging her not to dwell on it. He then murmured to himself: “The heights he will reach one day are also beyond what I can aspire to.”

“The Tyrant King was defeated — is he truly no match?” Xu Li was dazed, unconvinced. “The Tyrant King’s courage is rare across all of history — he merely lacked a divine prohibition, that’s all.”

“Who can say what the future holds.” The old city lord murmured to himself.

Ye Fan and the others stepped onto the Five-Colored Altar, and from behind came the sound of shouted farewells.

“Senior Ye Fan — you must defeat all challengers! You are the foremost power under the stars!”

“Senior Ye, we hope you attain the Dao — invincible beneath all heaven!”

Ye Fan could not help but look back. He saw a cluster of relatively young faces — those who had stepped onto the star path decades or even a hundred years after him, and they were already calling him “Senior.”

He stood for a moment, stunned. The years — another generation had risen. Who knew how many heroes would remain beneath the crashing waves. He thought of the Northern Dipper, wondering how Ye Tong and Huahua and the others were now. Would they step onto this path?

Perhaps, in the not-too-distant future, he would encounter their challenges as well.

And so, Ye Fan’s group departed. They had passed through here on borrowed roads — and now they would make for the human race’s final pass!