The magnificent pass towered, wreathed in primordial chaos energy. There was not a single soul here — ten thousand ages of silence — revealing its grandeur through the drifting, ethereal mist.
One after another, enormous stone pillars soared into the star clouds above, like pillars holding up the heavens, standing before the great pass — each one a living history, carved through with the veins of time.
Dozens of stone pillars stood in a single line, majestic and imposing. One — ceaselessly enveloped in Taiyin energy, with the sound of the Heavenly Dao resounding without end — surely belonged to the Human Emperor. Atop Mount Sumeru, the Great Thunder Sound Temple sat in attendance, proclaiming the teachings of Amitabha Buddha. One bore a ghost-face mark — tart, and yet smiling, trailed by tearstains — a symbol of the Ruthless One’s entire life. One bore an ancient mirror and a fading shadow — battling to the death, pacifying the turbulence of seven forbidden zones — narrating the twilight of Void. The Chaos Bell suppressed all of past and present, its back turned to all living beings, life and death shrouded in mystery — the supreme Wushi, without beginning or end. A stalk of blue lotus swayed, shattering ten thousand ages of blue sky, standing solitary, gazing to the distant ends of the immortal domain.
In total, more than ten great stone pillars stood there side by side — from ancient Emperors to Great Emperors, hailing from different powerful clans — each leaving their mark. No glory was displayed, no honor recorded. Only a brand.
That so many Great Emperors had walked this ancient path was both astonishing and stirring to the imagination.
Alas — the years had ultimately passed, never to return. The Great Emperors had never met one another. What emotions had they felt, leaving their names here?
One could only imagine: the solitude of standing unrivaled throughout one’s entire life, gazing from this place for others of the same kind.
Great Emperors were born through ruthless competition, growing until the final step. They had surpassed everything — and could not find a single peer. Only the ancient ones who had passed away were their rivals and companions, beings of the same kind.
Ye Fan and the others walked around the pillars, observing the ancient relics and sacred stones. Their hearts were deeply moved — as though they could see one solitary Great Emperor after another, pausing here.
The great pass was silent. Not a single person stood guard. The gates were shut tight, hung with enormous bronze rings in the shape of beast heads. The walls were tall and lusterless, as though no one had passed through in a very long time.
This was the first checkpoint of the ultimate ancient path!
In truth, it had many names. Some called it the Immortal Path, others the Emperor Path, still others the Sole Path to Godhood, and some called it the Heavenly Road.
This path was extraordinarily daunting. Without the power of a Great Sage level, one could not even push open the gates, let alone charge through. This was also why those who had not reached a certain level — who did not possess the corresponding strength — could not come here.
According to legend, this Emperor Path had nine checkpoints in total — though this was merely one version of the story. Others said eight, and still others said infinite. These were all estimations by the guardians of various races. The true count was known only to the ancient Great Emperors, who had walked the road to its end.
According to the first version, the great passes were few — only eight or nine in total — yet every checkpoint carried immeasurable tribulation and catastrophe.
This place was a true burial ground for heroes. The intensity and ruthlessness here far exceeded the Human Race’s ancient path, for this was the battlefield where all the mightiest races in the cosmos competed for supremacy — terrifying beyond measure.
Behind this great pass, countless heroes had been laid to rest. Some had truly achieved an Emperor’s form, yet met with accidental death — such tragedies had played out since ancient times, and continued to unfold to this day.
“There is also a version that says each pass is a layer of heaven — that one must ultimately ascend to the ninth heaven, sweep away the divine beings, defeat everything in one’s path, and finally strike the Emperor’s Bell, resounding across ten thousand domains,” Pang Bo said.
Before coming here, they had already gathered detailed information from the guardians of the Human Race’s ancient path, learning many secrets. Now, standing here, they were deeply moved.
“There is also a version that says each checkpoint is a world unto itself — not what the eye perceives, but that nine ancient universes serve as the ultimate battleground.”
Ye Fan drew a deep breath. On the road ahead, the opponents he would face would be far more terrifying. Perhaps each one would be a supreme adversary without parallel.
Of course, those on this path would not be many in number — but each and every one who appeared could not be taken lightly.
“The smallest number in a single era was fifty-five entrants. The largest had no recorded count — no one bothered to tally.”
Ye Fan’s group moved forward, approaching the great gate, preparing to ascend the Heavenly Road and fight the final battle. But with a faint hum, a massive stele appeared before the tightly closed gate.
It materialized in complete silence, emanating an aura that made everyone tremble. Faintly, the fluctuations of one Great Emperor after another radiated outward, awe-inspiring and soul-stirring.
The stele soared into the clouds — magnificent and immense. Its front face was like a gleaming mirror, radiant with flowing luster, capable of reflecting a person’s shadow. The four corners and the sides and back, however, were dim and unassuming, very ancient and simple, no different from ordinary stone.
“This path has truly not yet opened. The crystal stele is still blocking the gate,” Ji Ziyue said softly.
The guardians of the Human Race had told them in detail everything they needed to be aware of here. The Heavenly Road would not open prematurely — it would wait until most trial participants of this era had arrived, giving them sufficient time.
Until then, the great pass would remain sealed, impossible to open, and the crystal stele would stand before the city. Cultivators who came here needed only to carve their name into it and leave an imprint of their true self.
In the future, once the great pass opened, no matter where one might be, a divine gate would appear, offering a choice. A single step through it would bring one here.
Therefore, the crystal stele held a special meaning for cultivators. Anyone who reached this point had proven themselves to be one of the strongest few within their own race.
When one’s name was inscribed upon the crystal stele, it also signified the birth of a peerless powerhouse — one who could roam unchallenged across a domain, poised to claim supremacy within their own clan.
This was the lifelong dream of countless cultivators!
Setting aside the Emperor Road itself — to inscribe one’s name here alone was enough, representing a kind of recognition, an honor beyond compare.
“This era has only just begun, yet there are already fifty-three names inscribed!” Ji Haoyue’s expression shifted with surprise.
The crystal stele soared into the clouds, and every name carved upon it glowed with light — fifty-three in total — each brushstroke vigorous and forceful, radiating divine brilliance.
This crystal stele was truly remarkable — shimmering with a dreamlike luster that made every name seem alive, like a sacred lamp burning eternally.
“Fifty-three is only the early stage. Far too few. The era with the fewest entrants still had fifty-five qualifiers — and this golden age, the likes of which have never been seen since ancient times, is just beginning. Heaven only knows how many people will eventually appear,” Pang Bo said.
In the era that had seen the most entrants, the exact number had never been recorded — reportedly because there were simply too many. It was an age when darkness and chaos collided with radiant grandeur, causing exceptional talents to arise one after another.
Fifty-three names gleamed like brilliant stars, each one shining brilliantly. And before every name was a number indicating the order of arrival.
“The name of the very first person inscribed here is — Taichu!” Ye Fan was startled, his heart stirring.
Not only was this person’s name unusual, it was also exceptionally fitting. The first to arrive, bearing the name Taichu — “Primordial Beginning” — setting everything in motion from this place. The two characters shimmered with a hazy, precious light, carrying a terrifying aura of the Great Dao, suppressing all four directions.
“Daring to take such a name — does this person truly intend to defy the heavens?” Long Ma sucked in a sharp breath through its teeth.
“Could there be some connection to the Taichu ancient mine in the Northern Dipper?” Ji Ziyue wondered aloud.
“Could it possibly be something nurtured within one of the life-forbidden zones?” Pang Bo was also startled.
“That seems unlikely. There are not so many coincidences,” Ji Haoyue shook her head.
Regardless, the one who had inscribed the name “Taichu” upon the crystal stele was unquestionably extraordinary — the first to arrive here, and bearing such a name, which displayed a profound conviction.
They examined the names one by one. From the second to the seventh, the names were all unfamiliar, the races unknown.
Suddenly, Ye Fan was surprised. He recognized the eighth name — Yin Tiande!
The three characters swirled with faint purple mist, glowing from within a haze, and amid the serenity was concealed an expansive and heroic bearing that could swallow mountains and rivers. It was truly him.
“He has indeed come,” Pang Bo said, brow deeply furrowed.
A person who possessed a divine prohibition — no one dared underestimate such an individual. All had to treat him with utmost gravity. He was absolutely powerful, and Yin Tiande had arrived early, carving his true-self imprint upon the stele.
“The tenth person — we have never seen them, but we have heard of them,” Ji Ziyue said.
The tenth name was Jin Chanzi — flowing with Buddha light, cascading down from the crystal stele — peaceful and compassionate, as though a Buddha sat there in meditation, expounding teachings and reciting sutras.
In the Northern Dipper, Xijue Pusa — the Feeling Awareness Bodhisattva — and the Bitter Head Monk of the Human Race’s ancient path: both were exceptional figures, and both had been led away by Jin Chanzi. This was all Ye Fan could gather about this person from the information available to him.
“Am I… seeing things?” Pang Bo pointed at the upper portion of the crystal stele, searching through the brilliantly glowing cluster of names, and found one that left him wide-eyed and speechless.
“Could it truly be… he has come as well!” Even the composed Ji Haoyue changed her expression, shock written across her face.
There was a name there — one that anyone from the Northern Dipper would recognize, a name that resounded like thunder — it was the White-Robed Divine King, Jiang Taixu, unmistakably listed there!
After a long silence, Pang Bo clicked his tongue and said: “Even the peerless Divine King has come?”
He was still standing in the past, looking up at the White-Robed Divine King with awe, not realizing that he himself had already become a Saint King.
“Are there not rules on the ancient path? Can a Divine King come here as well?” Ji Ziyue blinked her bright, clever eyes, a look of puzzlement on her face.
Ye Fan was also greatly astonished. He had not imagined he would see the name of the Divine King Jiang on the crystal stele before ascending the Heavenly Road, and he sighed: “The Human Race’s ancient path does not permit such individuals to walk it — but the final ultimate Emperor Road has no such restrictions. It begins at the Great Sage level. Moreover, the Divine King has lived through a second lifetime — in terms of vitality alone, he possesses an advantage that is incomparable. He could be placed in any category without controversy.”
This outcome kept them unsettled for a long while. That the Divine King Jiang would become a Great Sage was inevitable — but that they would encounter him on this road in the future was something that filled everyone with astonishment.
“How is it that Yao Guang is not here? That rascal has devoured so many fearsome constitutions — I would imagine he is more than powerful enough by now. Why has he not appeared yet?” They searched through the names.
“When the time comes, he will show himself. He is never in a hurry — the order of names on this stele means nothing,” Ye Fan said.
In addition, figures such as Zhong Huang, Huo Lin’er, and Huang Xu Dao would certainly have been qualified to appear — yet none of their names were visible either, clearly having not yet arrived.
Of fifty-some names, to recognize even a few was already quite something.
“There is a strange name here — Dongfang Taiyi. Who is this?” Pang Bo’s expression shifted with curiosity.
Ye Fan froze. When he looked at the forty-ninth name, a suspicion rose in his heart. “Could it be the old Cannibal Fiend?”
Back then, they had gathered together on the sun in the Northern Dipper to roast golden crows. The Black Emperor and Dongfang Ye had both been present, and someone had asked the old man his name. He had spoken it somewhat unclearly — but it seemed to be Dongfang Taiyi.
“I… *&%@$…” Long Ma spat saliva in all directions, grumbling endlessly. Was there any room left for other people to breathe? Even the old wild man had arrived.
“This one specializes in eating Great Sages — whether it’s the golden crows of the Flaming Mulberry Star or the Great Sages of Ten Thousand Dragon’s Nest, to him they’re all crispy and crunchy, chewed a few times and swallowed right down,” Long Ma said, genuinely rattled. Even if this was one of their own people, if they encountered each other in the future on this road of competing for supremacy, it still gave Long Ma a bad feeling.
Long Ma clearly remembered all too well the look in the old Cannibal Fiend’s eyes when his old condition flared back then — staring at it as though looking at a whole roasted horse, plump and golden, fragrant and glistening.
Ye Fan too was left in a daze. Thinking it over carefully, this final road truly had no forbidden rules or restrictions — there was only one condition: you simply needed to be strong enough.
The old Cannibal Fiend had wandered through the cosmos and somehow ended up here — whether he had feasted his way across, or swept through everything in his path and fought his way here, no one could know.
Ye Fan, Pang Bo, Ji Ziyue, and the others all felt that this crystal stele was of immeasurable value to them. A single glance had already yielded so much astonishing information.
“The fiftieth name — such audacity in choosing a name. To actually dare to call oneself — Emperor Sovereign!”
Emperor Sovereign — these two characters were far too conspicuous. It was impossible not to notice them.
Suddenly, a sigh drifted over.
“Alas — I have come too late. I was only away for a brief moment, and the fiftieth position was already taken by someone else. And with this name of all names — could it be that this person has truly emerged into the world?”
In the distance, a figure approached, its entire body enveloped in primordial chaos energy — hazy and indistinct, mysterious and unfathomable — staring fixedly at the fiftieth position on the crystal stele, letting out a long, drawn sigh.