“Boundless be the compassion of the Buddha — all glory to my master. Hey, kid, stop running. Just come with me and guard the mountain gate already.” Hua Hua unleashed divine power on a grand scale. The Dao arts he displayed were something extraordinary — lotus flowers bloomed from his very mouth, one after another, flying out in succession, each petal translucent and lustrous, shining with brilliant light, pressing down on the void ahead until it collapsed.

The crowd went blank — and somewhat astonished. This shaven-headed man was actually able to use Dao arts like this in this place, without any suppression.

“Heaven above and earth below — I alone am supreme. Wretch, bind yourself now, or the poor monk here will send you on your way!”

From Hua Hua’s mouth, lotus flowers flew one by one, driving forward to suppress his opponent, slamming into him hard enough to send him stumbling, his entire body drenched in blood, unable to endure.

This technique was extraordinary — but in the eyes of that opponent, Hua Hua was simply mouthing off. There was no reason or logic to it. He was actually spending Dao cultivation so recklessly here, in the Immortal-Ascending Battlefield. If he were outside this place, how deep must his Dao cultivation be? The very thought was enough to make one’s blood run cold.

Hua Hua was the first to finish with his opponent, subduing him — and then looked ahead, eyes already fixing on the next target. Remarkably, it was a Buddhist nun, hailing from the Amitabha Ancient Star Domain.

“Ha! You shaved-headed woman — how dare you come to provoke my master? That’s breaking your vows. Let the poor monk come and seize you!” He raised his purple-gold alms bowl overhead and brought it smashing down like Mount Tai.

Boom!

Ten thousand strands of Buddhist light blazed. The alms bowl transformed into an entire expanse of sky, sweeping down to cover everything below.

“You foul-mouthed little monk — you are the disgrace of the Buddhist school. You have no right to call yourself a Buddhist son.” The nun’s expression was cold. She raised her demon-subduing staff and came charging forward in fierce close-range combat.

“The poor monk is a Buddhist devotee of the Heavenly Court — not the same as you. You shaved-headed woman, you carry too much killing intent in your heart. You are not upright within yourself. You have no right to call yourself a Buddhist.” Hua Hua said this with complete shamelessness.

The crowd was left speechless. Weren’t you also bald?

However one looked at it, Ye Fan’s disciple seemed to carry far too much of the dusty mortal world upon him — as though he had been raised by mountain bandits. If not for the manifested shadows of ancient Buddhas and bodhisattvas visible behind him, chanting sutras, no one would have believed for a moment that this was a monastic.

Clang!

The demon-subduing staff and the purple-gold alms bowl crashed together, unleashing pulse after pulse of Buddhist light. Dimly, two great Buddhas manifested, locked in a standoff.

The Dao of Amitabha and the Dao of Shakyamuni contended with each other — related and yet distinct, interconnected yet in opposition, and the collision between them triggered a massive, violent explosion.

“What extraordinary Dao arts!” People exclaimed in wonder.

“Abbess, you’re no match for this — watch Big Brother Monk use his own Dao to subdue you!”

In Hua Hua’s mouth, lotus flowers flew out one by one in succession, pressing forward in suppression. His opponent stumbled with each hit, reeling and dripping blood, unable to bear the impact.

Those techniques were truly extraordinary — yet in the eyes of the opponent, Hua Hua was nothing but a loudmouth, spouting nonsense without rhyme or reason. And yet he was actually squandering his Dao cultivation this recklessly here in the Immortal-Ascending Battlefield. If they were outside this place, how deep must his Dao cultivation be? Just thinking about it sent chills down the spine.

Hua Hua dealt with his first opponent and suppressed her — then looked ahead and fixed his eyes on the next target. Astonishingly, it turned out to be a Buddhist nun, hailing from the Amitabha Ancient Star Domain.

“Hey, you shaved-headed woman — you dare to provoke my master? That’s breaking your precepts. Come, let the poor monk capture you!” He raised his purple-gold alms bowl and brought it crashing down like a mountain peak.

BOOM!

Ten thousand strands of Buddhist light blazed. The alms bowl transformed into an entire expanse of sky, sweeping down to blanket everything.

“Foul-mouthed little monk — you are a disgrace to the Buddhist tradition. You have no right to call yourself a Buddhist son.” The nun’s expression was cold. She raised her demon-subduing staff and charged forward to engage in close combat.

“The poor monk is a Buddhist follower under the Heavenly Court — not the same kind as you. You, shaved-headed woman, carry far too much killing intent in your heart. You are not upright within yourself. You have no right to call yourself a Buddhist.” Hua Hua said all of this without a trace of embarrassment.

The crowd went collectively speechless. Aren’t you bald too?

However you looked at it, this disciple of Ye Fan’s carried far too much of the mortal, earthly world on him — as if he had been raised by mountain bandits. If the shadowy forms of ancient Buddhas and bodhisattvas were not visibly manifesting behind him and chanting sutras, no one would have believed for a moment that this man was actually a monastic.

Clang!

The demon-subduing staff and the purple-gold alms bowl collided, and pulse after pulse of Buddhist light detonated from the impact. Dimly, two great Buddhas manifested, standing opposed to one another.

The Dao of Amitabha and the Dao of Shakyamuni clashed — near to one another and yet divergent, interconnected yet in opposition — and the collision between them erupted into a massive, violent explosion.

“Such formidable Dao power!” People cried in admiration.

“Abbess, you won’t win this — let Big Brother Monk show you his own Dao and bring you into submission!”

Hua Hua’s shamelessness had no limit, and his declaration of his own superiority came with utter confidence. After he let out that shout, ten thousand flowers flew out from the top of his head, each one a distinct form of the Great Dao, each one — when it bloomed — containing a seated figure of Hua Hua himself within. The sight was deeply unsettling.

What kind of cultivation technique was this? It seemed somewhat akin to the Merciless Emperor’s “One Thought, Flower Blooms, Lord of All Realms” — yet different. Distinct. Something else.

“Abbess, here I come!”

Hua Hua let out a great whoop, and above his head, ten thousand flower buds bloomed at once. Waves of rosy light in the millions of strands surged forth, and ten thousand versions of himself charged forward together — each one appearing to carry genuine Dao power and cultivation.

In that moment, not only was the abbess shaken into pale-faced retreat — even the great powers of every faction had their hearts lurching with alarm. What kind of cultivation technique had this man actually trained?

The Merciless Emperor’s technique was exquisitely beautiful — when deployed, ten million crystalline petals would dance through the air, endless manifestations blooming, filling heaven and earth in all directions.

But his technique was utterly different and strange — from within the flowers he directly hatched ten thousand versions of himself, each one bouncing and charging forward together.

Ten thousand shaved heads, all hollering at the tops of their lungs, each unleashing its own Dao power to strike simultaneously — the sheer spectacle of it was genuinely staggering.

The nun’s heart seized with alarm. She called on her full power to strike out — Buddhist hellfire roared to the sky in an instant, sweeping through the heights, reducing many of the charging figures to blur and fading away. They had all been illusions — yet so convincing that real and false were nearly indistinguishable.

Clang!

Yet not all of those silhouettes were false. Among them was one that carried fighting power at the level of the true body — and it combined with Hua Hua’s true body to charge forward together, both striking at once to suppress the nun.

Beyond them, a whole mass of additional silhouettes — each with limited but genuine combat strength — swarmed forward, filling the nun with alarm, unable to tell true from false.

Bang!

In the end, a silhouette that had seemed unremarkable suddenly burst into devastating power, its strength exploding upward as it swung the alms bowl straight into the back of the nun’s head — right as she was locked in fierce combat with Hua Hua’s true body and Dao body alike — grinning with a particularly sly and underhanded expression.

Though the nun was subdued and collected inside the alms bowl, she was filled with indignation and came close to exploding in a stream of curses, damning this monk with his rogue’s instincts.

“Fighting the monk? Abbess, you’re far from ready yet. You think I fused how many people’s techniques together before I created this supreme, invincible secret art of mine?” Hua Hua snickered, eyeing the interior of the alms bowl in his hand.

“You…”

“I’ll tell you — this is the Supreme Technique of the Six Harmonies and Eight Wastelands. I fused the Merciless Emperor’s ‘One Thought, Flower Blooms’; the Sacred Emperor’s ‘Transformation Across Ten Million Years’; my master’s Dao body; and the Buddhist tradition’s faith-forged golden body — all into one. You didn’t lose shamefully. You were nowhere near my level.”

He weighed the alms bowl in his hand as he said this.

It was evident that the final ambush on the nun — the sneak attack, the sly grin — had come from his faith-forged form. In the hands of other high monks, it would have manifested with solemn dignity and compassion without bounds. But in his hands, it had come out looking thoroughly disgraceful.

“This… he’s also a disciple of Predecessor Ye? The styles are a bit… different.”

“The styles are worlds apart. How is this shaved-headed man so completely one-of-a-kind?”

“If you knew he was raised by that dog known as the Black Emperor, and had his childhood values shaped by that unscrupulous Daoist who spent his life digging up the ancestral graves of others, you wouldn’t have any questions left.”

…

People murmured amongst themselves, the looks they cast at him growing stranger and stranger.

On the other side, the struggle between Yang Xi and the Hegemon King had reached a fever pitch — the final, climactic stage. In the end, when the nine great divine forms of the Heaven-Dominating Blood emerged, even the sky and earth threatened to lose their luster.

Not even Ye Fan was unaffected — his gaze sharpened, eyes locking on the battlefield, watching closely, as he slowly began to walk forward.

Boom!

A world-splitting, creation-opening aura spread in all directions. The nine great divine forms and the Holy Body’s extraordinary phenomena collided. At this final stage, a terrifying, blinding light erupted.

That place was completely annihilated. Two silhouettes went flying. The Hegemon King stepped out — still upright — yet his right hand trailed blood, his tiger’s mouth cracked and split, that shockingly violet blood flowing freely, radiating a strange and demonic power.

Yang Xi was staggering on the other side, stumbling backward for a great distance before finally catching himself — and yet he was smiling. Not a trace of dejectedness crossed his face: “The Hegemon King is truly as formidable as his name suggests!”

His injuries were significant — yet nothing critical. He had endured the Hegemon King’s most powerful secret art. His face was written over with confidence and bright, undimmed resolve.

The Hegemon King’s expression was dark as a storm. His heart was raging. This was merely his enemy’s disciple — and yet that disciple had withstood his nine great divine forms and not fallen. This was a blow of staggering proportions.

And Yang Xi was clearly still capable of fighting on. He swiftly used the Indestructible Sutra to mend his wounds — broken bones reknitting, flesh closing over and healing — and he was alive and vigorous once more.

Watching this, the Hegemon King’s expression darkened even further. The Indestructible Sutra and the Hegemon Fist had both been torn from his Primordial Spirit by Ye Fan years ago. For him, that was a humiliation beyond all tolerance.

“Junior — die!” The Hegemon King’s right palm suddenly began to surge with violet energy. The blood from his entire body rushed toward it, violet blood boiling, and then turning red, condensing between his five fingers as he transformed into a bolt of lightning and hurtled toward Yang Xi.

That palm had shed all its violet color, leaving it a blinding scarlet. This was the essence of the Heaven-Dominating Blood — what could rightly be called “True Blood” — said to be capable of slaying even gods.

Everyone was shaken. The Hegemon King had cut a bloody path to where he stood, having torn apart many Great Saints with his bare hands across the starry sky, walking bathed in divine blood, countless peerless enemies having met their end under that Heaven-Dominating True Blood.

Ye Fan moved. His movement was like a bolt of thunder — he arrived in an instant, cutting off the Hegemon King’s advance.

Boom!

Ye Fan threw one punch straight into that blood-red palm. Heaven and earth erupted. The sky fractured, the earth sank downward. Even with a formation array protecting the area and capable of restoring it whole, even that could not contain this force of destruction — everything was obliterated.

When the final radiance faded, the Hegemon King and Ye Fan stood facing each other. The Hegemon King’s right arm was shattered and broken, crimson blood pouring to the ground, and he swayed as he stumbled back.

Ye Fan stood where he was — firm as a bedrock, his fingers crystalline and undamaged, not a trace of harm upon them.

The crowd drew in a sharp collective breath. This result needed no commentary. Three or four hundred years after their last meeting, the Hegemon King had lost again. He had still been defeated.

Over those three hundred years, though Ye Fan had drifted in and out of consciousness, his physical body had never ceased its transformation. After his desperate, blood-spilling battle with the Supreme Being of the life forbidden zone, his body had shattered — and over these long years, his flesh had been in the midst of reconstitution and tempering. That was a terrifying kind of sublimation.

“Master, I could have taken that.” Yang Xi muttered, protesting quietly.

His right palm had shed its golden color. Half of his hand was crimson — but it had not spread across the entire palm, evidently the essence of the Holy Body’s True Blood.

“You are still young. There is no need to fight so desperately.” Ye Fan said.

It was clear enough. Had Yang Xi faced that blow head-on, he would have suffered greatly — even if his life was not in danger, his vitality would have been severely depleted. With Ye Fan present, he naturally would not sit and watch his disciple take such punishment.

“Ten years. Give me ten more years, and I can fill my entire palm with blazing scarlet True Blood — and when that day comes…” Yang Xi’s eyes shone as they fixed on the Hegemon King.

The crowd felt a ripple of shock — they could sense the blazing fighting spirit in Yang Xi. He had clearly chosen the Hegemon King as his opponent, and was determined to defeat him in ten years.

“Master, I ask you to spare him once more. Ten years from now, I wish to fight him!” He finally voiced the desire in his heart.

The Hegemon King, whose eyes had already begun to dim, whose body had even begun to bow slightly — shattered by that most recent defeat — straightened at once the instant he heard Yang Xi’s words. A limitless, fierce killing intent blazed in his eyes.

“Master, I hunger for a battle with the lineage of Heaven-Dominating Blood!” Yang Xi said again.

Ye Fan heard him, held his silence for a moment, then nodded — granting his wish.

“I have not lost my fighting spirit. When the Heaven-Dominating Blood rises again, the entire world will tremble!” The Hegemon King let out a roar, wheeled sharply on his heel, and strode away. With each step he set down, his aura grew stronger — and by the last, as he was about to vanish, he tore the void apart and disappeared through it.

The Hegemon King departed in a fury.

Yet from this day forward, he was no longer counted by Ye Fan as an opponent. For him, that was the greatest sorrow of all — while Ye Fan’s eyes had already turned toward the figure on the Hegemon Body Ancestor Star.

On the other side, the battle between Ye Tong and Fire Spirit Cangyan was drawing to its close as well, that area blazing in a storm of light and fire.

The Fire Spirit ultimately resorted to a forbidden secret art. A terrifying demonic light, so dark it was nearly black, oppressive and awe-inspiring — this was a type of flame it had collected: the Supreme Yin Immortal Fire. Not blazing hot, but ice-cold flame. The moment it appeared, it threatened to freeze the very bones of every person present from within.

The entire crowd was seized with terror. No one could have imagined that Fire Spirit Cangyan had actually found this fire from the myths of antiquity. It was world-shaking.

For the Solar Body, the Supreme Yin Immortal Fire was obviously lethal — the perfect counter.

Cangyan was bleeding all over, pulling that fire out from where it had been sealed within its own body and using it as a weapon. Even so, the cost to itself was enormous.

Yet Ye Tong’s face carried only a cold smile. Not the slightest fear. In an instant, he struck out eighteen ancient characters in rapid succession, sealing and locking the high heavens above.

The first nine ancient characters were nine Emperor-characters from the Solar Sacred Scripture. The last nine were nine seal-characters from the Supreme Yin Mother Scripture. The two together, complementing and completing each other, turning one into the other in mutual conversion — and with that, the Supreme Yin Immortal Fire was directly sealed, captured, and taken over.

“Impossible — you are the Solar Body. You also cultivated the Supreme Yin Ancient Scripture?!” Cangyan was shaken to its core.

“You are too ignorant of the world. My aunt is the Supreme Yin Body — we once exchanged ancient scriptures and cultivated from each other’s!” Ye Tong said with a cold laugh.

Cangyan’s expression was as cold as it had ever been. It had not expected to miscalculate so badly. And yet it was not afraid — its true Dao cultivation was a level above Ye Tong’s. This was merely a matter of being countered. It decided to deploy its trump card and waste no more time. In an instant, it brought out a supreme killing weapon — a forbidden artifact.

Its heart ached as it did so. This had been forged by melting down every sacred material it had accumulated over the years, and could only be used once or twice at most.

It was a scroll painting. With a great rustling and snapping sound it unfurled, spreading across the sky — unconstrained by the suppression of the Immortal-Ascending Battlefield. This was one of Fire Spirit Cangyan’s hidden trump cards.

This artifact was overwhelmingly powerful. It shattered empty space, carrying the imprints of ten thousand Daos and ten thousand paths, pressing down from above. For any Great Saint who was unprepared, this was annihilation made certain.

Within this divine painting, Cangyan had sealed the essence-souls of more than ten Great Saints, bound together with their Dao and their power. Once released, all things would be slain.

But the outcome once again plunged Cangyan into despair. Ripples of Emperor-level fluctuations shuddered out, and Ye Tong’s hand was holding a golden scepter, sweeping it forward!

This was the scepter of the Heavenly Court — a supreme quasi-Emperor artifact.

Three hundred years ago, in the greatest, most catastrophic dark upheaval in history, nearly every Emperor artifact had been destroyed, shattered, or badly damaged — reduced to total disappearance, not to be seen again.

In the time since, quasi-Emperor artifacts had become the most powerful weapons in the universe. For one to appear now was an overwhelming show of force and dominance.

Had Cangyan not used the forbidden artifact, had it continued to fight — its chance of victory would have been good. But it was unwilling to be embarrassed, unwilling to drag out the fight against a junior, and wanted to end it quickly.

Ye Tong naturally countered by deploying the quasi-Emperor artifact. The Heavenly Court’s golden scepter shattered the divine painting — and then split Fire Spirit Cangyan apart as well, extinguishing its Primordial Spirit into silence.

“How can this be…” Cangyan’s body shook. Its physical form broke apart, and the last thread of Primordial Spirit light dimmed and went out slowly. It had not imagined the outcome would be this.

In this world it had been so powerful — ranging freely across all of existence, moving through life with nothing able to restrain it — and yet this was how it ended.

In the end, there was no suspense. A generation’s fire spirit was dead.

With this battle concluded, every person was shaken to the core.

Ye Fan’s three disciples were far too powerful. Ye Tong had fought Fire Spirit Cangyan to the death. Hua Hua had subdued multiple powerful foes. Even the youngest disciple, Yang Xi, had come close to matching the Hegemon King — capable of holding his own, striking awe into the hearts of all who watched.