The Lord of Samsara came from the depths of the universe, his eyes cold and piercing enough to unsettle the soul. In one step he descended, drawing close to the ancient star and arriving before an ancient city invisible to ordinary mortals.
Carved upon the city gatehouse were three grand characters: Hangu Pass!
The brushwork was vigorous and powerful. How many years this ancient city had existed, no one could say — it was engraved with the weathering of ages, every surface marked by the mottled hand of time, giving any who laid eyes upon it the sense of gazing across ten million years in a single glance.
It was as though one had entered a cycle of reincarnation — the ancient city remained as it always had, yet the living beings upon the earth had changed through countless generations. Old bones had turned to ash, and races had risen and fallen in succession.
“This city is still the same as ever,” the Lord of Samsara murmured to himself.
He had no need to display his power — a single wave of his Supreme Being’s aura surged forward, instantly shaking the ancient city and causing this place to blaze with brilliant light. One after another, formation patterns emerged, transforming into a vast and majestic world of immortal Dao laws.
“The Emperor Formation has come alive!” The Lord of Samsara narrowed his eyes, two sharp beams of radiance shooting from their depths.
This city was connected to the starfield and linked to the universe, standing tall beneath the vault of the heavens — a city of the stars. Brilliant meteor showers swept past, making this place appear all the more mysterious and unfathomable.
“And there are still those who dare to guard this city?!” The Lord of Samsara stepped forward — and in that instant, the universe collapsed!
Yet the entire ancient city blazed from front to back with four kinds of formation patterns, rapidly expanding and immediately blocking the way — holding back that violent shockwave.
This startled him. Four kinds of Emperor Formations had appeared in an instant, and all of them were awakening. This had exceeded his expectations somewhat.
Vaguely, he felt something was not quite right. Rather than launching an immediate assault, he stepped back into the starfield and returned to the space beyond.
The Lord of Samsara stood in the frozen void of outer space, gazing down at that blue star below. Within his eyes were images of suns and moons collapsing, stars being destroyed, and chaos spreading without end.
The world as he perceived it was entirely different from that of an ordinary cultivator. In the eyes of the common person, this was a star like a blue diamond. But in his eyes, it was a great Dao-star — dense with Dao patterns, woven through by endless runes. And it was by no means as small as it appeared on the surface; it was boundless and infinite, surpassing even the Big Dipper in scope.
Innumerable great formations blanketed this place, layered and stacked upon one another. Mountain ranges soaring tens of thousands of meters pierced the vast firmament in every direction.
The regions exposed beyond the formations were inhabited by humans, but they represented only a corner of the true territory — utterly insignificant. Those areas had no spiritual energy and were entirely polluted.
Even a Great Saint could only sense that something was amiss and detect the wrongness — he could not see through to the source. An ancient Supreme Being, however, was different: he could perceive the most fundamental truth.
“These are the formation patterns laid down by the Dao Venerable in ancient times. As the ages have passed, they can no longer remain fully concealed. Covered with the Zhe Character Secret and his own unparalleled ancient formation — if one simply enters, nothing will happen. But if one seeks to destroy this place, it will bring annihilation upon oneself. Furthermore, there are other Emperor Formations here as well!”
A cold voice rang out. The Lord of Samsara’s eyes were utterly hollow — appearing incomparably terrifying, as though they could swallow the sun, moon, mountains, and rivers and cause the universe to collapse in an instant.
Even someone as powerful as the Lord of Samsara did not force his way through. For this place held many hidden secrets, and no one with any wisdom would take lightly the formations of the Ancient Celestial Court’s Dao Venerable. They required careful consideration.
After observing for a long while, he returned before the Hangu Pass and said with a cold laugh: “It is not as though I have never been here before. Even if these formation patterns have been revived, can they truly stop my footsteps?”
He pointed forward, pressing toward the ancient city — but from atop that ancient city, the most blazing beam of light swept down and collided directly with him.
The Lord of Samsara was naturally unharmed — those in this world who could oppose him could be counted on one’s fingers, and they would have to be those who had attained the Dao. But were there any such people on Earth?
Yet he was still shaken, his body trembling slightly. An expression of disbelief crossed his face. Even if it could not wound him, it greatly surprised him.
“There truly is someone of note here. The Emperor Formation patterns have all fully revived ahead of time without reason, mounting an offensive against me — there must be someone directing them, and one who understands them with extraordinary depth.”
This place had mysterious formations that could sever numerous vital auras — formations similar to the Heaven-Deceiving Arrays, of which there were not merely one or two — leaving even the Lord of Samsara unable to see through everything completely.
This time, he stamped his foot with force. A massive rift spread outward, tearing through the universe directly toward the ancient city — he intended to force it open by brute strength.
“Boom!”
Suddenly, immortal light erupted. The aura of an ancient Great Emperor exploded outward, shaking all of eternity and sweeping down as a brilliant killing beam of light, dazzling beyond compare.
The great rift that had been expanding was shattered before it reached the city, and at the same time the Lord of Samsara’s body was jolted — he felt a vast and boundless vitality surging toward him in opposition.
“Fully intact, completely revived — the power equal to a single strike from a Great Emperor. An Emperor Weapon!” His eyes darkened, his gaze fixed upon the gatehouse above the city gates. Someone had clearly made preparations there.
Billions upon billions of strands of immortal light, releasing undying radiance through the mist — someone powerful was undoubtedly channeling it, for nothing less could have revived a true Emperor Weapon.
And at this moment, the various Emperor Formations within the city gates also awakened and began to expand outward. Atop the city gatehouse, several silhouettes appeared at once, standing there.
In this instant, two beams of terrifying radiance erupted from the Lord of Samsara’s eyes. A trace of genuine shock crossed his face, and he involuntarily stepped forward, the thick mass of his hair beginning to stir and rise.
This was an exceedingly rare occurrence — for him to reveal such an expression was something that, if spoken of, would surely shake the world. As a Supreme Being standing before the vast universe, he could find no rivals anywhere. There was nothing that should have caused this reaction.
It was only in this exceptional great era, where a handful of his kind had emerged, that he could not simply sweep the universe clean as he pleased.
“You…”
Atop that gatehouse stood an old Daoist, a Buddhist monk — and one or two others concealed within chaos, impossible to see clearly.
“Celestial Venerable of the Moral Code — you… are still alive!”
The Lord of Samsara’s expression was shaken. His gaze fixed upon the old Daoist before him. Disbelief was written across his face — a figure long since confirmed to have passed away in the mythological era — how could he still be present in the mortal world?
Atop the gatehouse, a green ox strolled over at an unhurried pace, bearing an old Daoist on its back. The old man atop the ox had the bearing of an immortal — white hair yet a youthful complexion, with a ruddy and healthy face despite his great age.
No matter how one looked at him, he possessed a quality of transcendence — as though he were about to ride his ox into the heavens and ascend beyond the boundaries of this world, transformed into an ancient immortal.
Had Ye Fan been present, his heart would surely have leaped — was this not the true form of Laozi, as carved upon the stone wall? He had appeared, alive and real, and had returned to Earth.
“You have mistaken me for someone else,” the old man atop the green ox said calmly. “Some call me Li Er.”
The expression of the Lord of Samsara shifted between states, neither fully cold nor entirely settled. He held no fear, yet his countenance was not at ease either. He had not expected to encounter such an ancient Celestial Venerable on Earth.
And not only one — there was also a Great Emperor.
His expression grew very cold. He fixed his gaze upon another figure who possessed the bearing of a Great Emperor, and his voice dropped to a glacial extreme: “Great Emperor Hengyu — to think you also survived. One man who once stood his ground against several Supreme Beings from the Primordial Ancient Mine and killed one among them — to think your means of preserving your life are equally unmatched.”
That was a middle-aged man — tall and powerfully built, his physique massive and commanding, like a peerless hero who had walked out from ancient times. He had been refined to the utmost extreme of power, and the depth within his gaze was incomparable.
“You are mistaken. I am Shennong,” the imposing middle-aged man said plainly — and those words only made him appear more mysterious still. He stood within the mist, blurred and indistinct.
Had Ye Fan, Pang Bo, and others been present, they would surely have cried out — this was a human ancestor! He had actually reappeared in the mortal world and was still alive.
Yet, on reflection, it was as it should be. In his time, Rongcheng Shi, a quasi-emperor, had chosen to avoid Shennong and the Yellow Emperor entirely, departing to distant realms beyond — believing their innate gifts were too extraordinary and that he had no chance of attaining the Dao ahead of them.
How could someone like that fail to survive? He would inevitably break through to the Great Saint realm, then advance to the quasi-emperor realm, walking unwaveringly along the path toward attaining the Dao.
Yet — the Lord of Samsara had mistaken Shennong for Great Emperor Hengyu. This was something one would find difficult to understand upon hearing it. The only thing the two men had in common was that they both bore the surname Jiang.
Had Ye Fan been present, he would surely have pointed out that near the Ji Family of the Big Dipper lay a river called the Jiang River, and that the clan of the Flame Emperor — the ancient Earth’s lineage — also had a Jiang River nearby.
Was this a coincidence?
Yet Shennong himself had said the other had mistaken him for someone else.
The Lord of Samsara gave a cold laugh, fixing his gaze upon a white-robed middle-aged monk of transcendent bearing: “Surely you won’t also tell me you are not Amitabha Buddha — the features are indeed not quite the same, yet you carry something of the aura of the great emperor of the Buddhist faith.”
“This humble monk is Shakyamuni,” said the monk, pressing his palms together with composed serenity.
“Ha ha ha…” The Lord of Samsara laughed aloud, his hair whipping about wildly — as though none in this world could rival him, he alone supreme above all.
But when he caught a clear sight of the features of yet another figure within the swirling chaos mist, his laughter instantly died in his throat. He stepped back involuntarily, then cried out in a voice stripped of all composure: “Great Emperor of the Void!”
This man had stepped out from a stone coffin. He appeared completely ordinary — nothing about him stood out at all. He was not imposing in any striking way, yet he possessed a quality that made one feel, inexplicably, at ease.
Plain. Ordinary. Simple and true.
“Impossible — there is no way you could have survived. No way, no matter what!”
Faced with any of the others, the Lord of Samsara had maintained his composure. Only upon seeing this figure identified as the “Great Emperor of the Void” did he lose his bearing so completely — for this man had once stood in direct opposition to the Sea of Samsara.
The Great Emperor of the Void had lived through the most terrifying age of upheaval of all. Alone, he had fought a bloody battle across the eight wastelands, then, carrying his wounds, gone to the Sea of Samsara, blocking it to prevent the ancient emperors from emerging into the world. He had even slain one of the Supreme Beings there.
At the time, the Lord of Samsara had not yet emerged into the world — yet he had known all of it. How could it have failed to leave a deep impression on him?
Among all the Great Emperors, the one who lived during the Void’s era had passed through the most turbulent times. He had given the most. Until his blood ran dry and he fell in battle beyond the realm, he had left an indelible impression upon the Seven Great Life Forbidden Zones — an impression that could never be erased.
Even in death, he inspired awe. More than that, he had earned the gratitude of countless races who still thought fondly of him to this day — grieving and praying, hoping this Great Emperor of the Human Race might somehow return to life.
“I can say with certainty — the Void died. I must acknowledge he was a remarkable figure, absolutely worthy of the gratitude those ants have shown him — eternal prostration, worship — for he used his life to protect an entire age, and in the end shed his blood beyond the realm. His death was long confirmed. There can be no doubt of it.”
“I am the Yellow Emperor,” said that utterly ordinary, unremarkable-looking middle-aged man — one who bore not the slightest resemblance to any unmatched Supreme Being — in a calm and level voice.
“Ha ha — good. The Yellow Emperor. I understand. You are absolutely not him!” The Lord of Samsara laughed loudly, then looked at the others in turn: “You are Shakyamuni, you are Li Er, you are Shennong — none of you are the Celestial Venerables of the mythological era, none of you are the Great Emperors of antiquity — isn’t that right?! Ha ha ha…”
The Lord of Samsara roared with laughter — then his voice cut off abruptly, and he stopped. He said: “This ancient star is truly a remarkable place. I finally understand why the Dao Venerable arranged so very much here. It is truly an ideal place for ‘nurturing spirits’… to be able to bring things so many years forward ahead of schedule!”