The great battle had begun!

The crowd surged forward in a killing charge, all with one single goal — to join forces and extinguish the man at the center of the field. That man inspired awe and deep fear in all of them. They would not give him any chance to truly recover and rise again.

In his time, this man had already awed an entire generation. He should not have appeared in this world again. Their eyes were all icy cold, and some among them were in a state of frenzy. Perhaps today was the only opportunity they would ever have to be rid of him.

At this moment, battle cries shook the sky. The clamor split through the air, causing the vast earth to tremble. An aura that seemed to press down upon the nine heavens swept and surged.

Ye Fan moved. In that instant he changed — his expression went cold, without even a trace of emotional fluctuation. He grew colder and more ruthless with each passing moment, and he struck with swift decisiveness.

In mere moments, he had already sent dozens of weapons flying — including a dragon sword forged from a blend of blue-gold ore.

Crack!

In that moment, he was savage. Once he truly decided to deliver killing blows, he showed not the slightest mercy. He was like a bloodthirsty demonic lord — resolute and frigid. One punch struck out, and the man at the very front was sent into utter ruin, exploding apart with a thunderous boom.

Blood and white bone fragments flew everywhere. The bloody scene made people’s hair stand on end and filled their hearts with cold dread, but these people did not withdraw. Having come this far, there was no way back.

They were measuring others against themselves — surely, Ye Fan would seek to settle accounts with them afterward. Better to cut him down now, while his power was entirely gone and he was at the lowest point of his life.

The earth trembled. Several behemoth exotic beasts from the primordial era charged forward, rising up on two legs and stomping toward Ye Fan’s skull. And the supremely powerful figures mounted upon them all raised sharp weapons, thrusting toward Ye Fan’s sacred platform at his forehead, seeking to end his life.

They were cold-blooded and ruthless. In this region where cultivation was suppressed, they abandoned their many wondrous techniques and instead attacked Ye Fan’s immortal platform with terrifying combat arts, seeking to end his life there.

The iron hooves were deafening, shattering the void. And those razor-sharp sacred weapons gleamed with an icy, sinister light — like death god’s scythes from the underworld — all descending at once.

Clang!

In that moment, Ye Fan was like a demonic lord. He raised his right foot, then stamped down with force. The earth directly fractured beneath him, and surging waves of soil — mixed with boulders — rose up, sending every one of those wild beasts flying, tumbling away.

The Great Sages mounted on those ancient beasts also lost their footing and were sent flying by the impact wave. Nearly toppling backward into the crowd behind them — it was a scene of complete chaos, riders and mounts thrown into disarray together.

Yet things did not stop there. For after Ye Fan stamped down, he was already leaping into the air — like a humanoid tyrannosaur, launching into the most terrifying slaughter.

Crack!

His speed was too great. Those several mounted riders had not yet truly fallen to the ground when Ye Fan was already upon them in pursuit. He stamped one foot onto the skull of one man — and there, like blossoming peach flowers, red blood and white brains splattered and flew together.

Ye Fan left only an afterimage at the spot, then stepped over the man’s skull and rose into the air again, landing upon another. Without any suspense, a great spray of blood mist erupted — another kill.

And still he did not touch the ground. He swung a leg, sweeping it horizontally — and the man and mount before him let out anguished screams as they were torn to pieces.

Crack!

Ye Fan, still airborne, seized a holy spear from a nearby enemy and in that split second hurled it outward, spearing the last man and mount and pinning them firmly to the ground, blood pouring down.

With a thud, Ye Fan landed — like a javelin, his body ramrod straight. His clothes were unstained by blood, his hair thick and dense, his eyes merciless, sweeping across the assembled heroes.

Every heart ran cold. They were accustomed to the clash of magical arts and Dao principles, and now to fight in this kind of brutal, close-quarters slaughter left them with a sense of unreality.

How overwhelmingly powerful they were — masters of life and death. Yet before this man, they were so diminished. Every time he shifted position, someone inevitably died. Without exception.

This was profoundly unreal — like living within a nightmare. What kind of person would have such confidence, to face all of them alone without the slightest fear, utterly steady and composed, even cold?

From high in the sky, a dragon’s roar rang out, piercing the ears of every person. Every person’s immortal platform trembled.

That was a terrifying fluctuation — fused with the very heaven and earth, merged into one, as though it had seized the will of the cosmos and wielded the divine judgment of the heavens.

An ancient sword descended. Its entire body was blue-green, like a hanging emerald river, radiating waves of Great Dao energy, pressing down to suppress Ye Fan.

Not a slashing strike — a suppression!

Yi Ming had made his move again. This was not pure sword control — he was operating his cultivation and pouring it into the sword, fusing it into the sky above, carrying the will of heaven and earth to kill Ye Fan.

He was a singular figure. After arriving here, his cultivation had not been fully severed. Within his body was a terrifying aura — like a sealed ocean. At this moment it all erupted outward.

The sword was like a blue dragon, hanging down from the heights of the cosmos. The enormous sword body rose higher than the mountain peaks — terrifying and awe-inspiring. Wisps of blue energy drifted everywhere — the overwhelming power of immortal gold.

Beneath this enormous sword, a person was utterly out of proportion, small as an ant. Everyone was deeply alarmed. Yi Ming was too strong — the cultivation he had preserved was immense. Even without going so far as sweeping all before him here, it should have been close to that.

Clang!

Yet what followed was something none of them would ever forget for the rest of their lives. The man’s gaze was dim, without any remarkable radiance — and yet with nothing but a pair of fists, he dared to clash head-on against the blue-gold sword.

As all eyes looked on in shock, that ancient sword trembled violently. The radiance upon it rapidly receded. It shrank with startling speed. All the Dao principles upon it shattered outright.

Heaven Emperor’s Fist!

Many people nearly cried out aloud. In years past, this supreme secret technique created by Ye Fan — once the fist was thrown, none could withstand it. In its time it had given an entire generation headaches, impossible to confront head-on.

Now that technique reappeared, and it seemed even greater than before. Without any magical power infusing it, there was instead a nameless and inexplicable aura — as if even this entire cosmos could be pulverized by it.

“No law, no heaven, no Dao… this is…”

Everyone was horror-struck, and in that moment, filled with fear. Could this be a path of cultivation that forged one’s own self? With nothing but the fundamental power of the human body, to shatter all things.

The dragon sword — blended with feather-transformation blue-gold — had already shrunk down, covered in hairline crack after hairline crack. It could shatter at any moment.

Yi Ming’s lips leaked a thread of blood. He had poured both his cultivation and his mind’s imprint into it. He could not have imagined what the result would be — that man was truly like a demonic lord.

Hum!

The ancient sword trembled, then burst through the sky, reversing its course and flying back. Had it been even a moment later, Ye Fan’s fist would have shattered it!

Yi Ming retreated, catching the sword in both hands. More blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and this left everyone deeply shaken.

Yet people also caught a glimpse of hope for dealing with Ye Fan. This time he had used both fists in battle — striking more than once — no longer as he had before, killing with a single blow every time.

Using Dao principles against him, suppressing with cultivation — this very likely was the only hope. But how many within the Immortal Ascension Battlefield had managed to preserve fragments of Dao and cultivation?

Boom!

Suddenly, the heaven and earth went completely dark. Black mist surged. A death angel appeared, a pair of enormous black wings on its back, descending from the heavens and attacking Ye Fan with explosive force!

It was supremely powerful — making one wonder how its cultivation had been preserved at all. It wielded unfathomable power of Dao principles, shattering the sky.

In its hands it held an iron halberd — pitch black throughout, only the blade edge snow-bright, emanating a frigid killing intent. It swung downward, splitting the mountains and rivers.

The death black mist came down across the sky, instantly covering the earth, causing that place to boil with killing intent — like a sea of wraiths seething and churning!

Yet Ye Fan stood in place and did not retreat a single half-step. His body was crystalline, fundamental essence cycling within his flesh. As he swept his palm outward, it was as though he existed alongside the entirety of heaven and earth, unaffected by any pressure.

He seemed to exist at the same level as the great cosmos itself — possessing his own singular and unique fundamental nature. The strike he delivered in that moment stirred waves of world-shaking intensity, allowing a select few to discern something.

Boom!

Both fleshy palms shattered the power of Dao principles from the sky, challenging the order of this stretch of starry heavens. A rain of light surged upward in defiance of the heavens.

The death angel could not kill him. At that moment, Ye Fan moved with the speed of lightning, gathering up the sacred weapons of the several fallen people from just before. Then he hurled them toward the sky.

Spear after spear and iron sword after iron sword bored through the void and disappeared into the heavens. Under the force of such tremendous power, the sacred weapons caught fire and burned as they were destroyed — one could imagine just how terrifying that force was.

“Kill him. Dao principles can suppress him. Fight to the end — he will have no opportunity!” Someone from Yao Guang’s lineage made their move.

In that moment, weapons gleamed resplendently. Blades like mountains, swords like forests — cold and piercing to the eye, all aimed at Ye Fan, charging forward in a killing tide.

It was a torrent of iron and steel. The mountains and valleys all shuddered, startling hearts into unsteadiness. Not one among them was weak. They descended like ten thousand divine generals from the sky, charging with enough force to make hearts tremble!

“Kill!”

This place erupted — wild, frenzied. Battle cries shook the heavens!

Crack!

Ye Fan’s throw toward the death angel had not entirely missed. One long spear bored through the death angel’s sternum, causing it to explode and plummet downward.

This was an undeniably horrifying scene. A Great Sage with preserved cultivation could not dodge. What kind of terrible force was this?

Yet since the move had already been made, there was now no retreat. Many people charged in a frenzy, fighting a decisive battle against Ye Fan at the lowest point of his life. This was their final opportunity.

Yet Ye Fan’s power surpassed all predictions. Cold and decisive, his strikes were ferocious. He slaughtered his way through the assembled heroes without a shred of mercy.

A flash of blood-red — Ye Fan’s palm cut through a Great Sage’s neck. Blood sprayed. The severed head flew more than ten meters into the air, while the headless body charged forward another hundred steps before collapsing in a pool of blood.

Vivid red blossomed everywhere. Ye Fan seized a heavenly saber snatched from the dead, raising it in a cleaving blow at those before him. A man and his mount were both split in two.

Crack!

His right leg swept out — like an iron post — reducing a Great Sage to a pulp. The gleaming demonic saber in his hand flashed, and with it, three more people were cloven down in rapid succession, blood spraying dozens of feet into the air.

This was a land drenched in blood. Even those who had preserved some portion of their cultivation could not withstand it — could not shake Ye Fan’s true self. In mere moments, dozens of corpses already lay at his feet.

He moved as though there were no one there. No one could stop him. Having once traded blows with an ancient supreme being, there was a terrifying aura on his body that made people shudder. Having survived the most terrible dark chaos, even if his combat power was not the absolute pinnacle, he still carried an air of looking down upon all living things — enough to make some people involuntarily tremble.

Ye Fan harvested lives without mercy. These had all once been people protected by the Void Emperor, Gai Jiuyou, Ji Zi, and the others. In those times, some of them may have still been in swaddling clothes. Yet now, he had to end their lives with his own hands.

Blood blossomed, unspeakably desolate and vivid. This place had become a field of carnage. Body after body fell, staining the earth crimson.

And Ye Fan, in that moment, felt an extraordinary stillness in his heart. No sorrow, no joy, no rippling waves — as though he were simply doing something ordinary.

Crack!

Without realizing it, he had crushed two Dao treasure vases with his bare hands. The powerful kept falling. Blood splattered everywhere. Not a single person remained near him — an open expanse, the ground carpeted with countless corpses.