Ye Fan had come — and with such dominance. Even stripped of his laws and Dao, he had still slain the disciple of the Eternal Heavenly Venerable, announcing his return in this forceful manner.

The entire Emperor Pass was suffused with a peculiar atmosphere. Ye Fan’s return had made the mood here suddenly many times more tense — somewhat oppressive. People felt that the most fearsome of battles on the emperor’s road might unfold from this very moment.

In this era, there were many within the Emperor Pass, gathered from every corner of the universe — all of them with a single goal: to achieve the Dao.

The oldest among them was some eight thousand years of age, yet would not yield to it, having come here intent on battling out a brilliant outcome in this lifetime, so that the final years of his life would flow forth with the most magnificent of radiance.

The youngest was only a little over a hundred years old, yet had already reached the pinnacle of the Great Sage realm — truly shaking antiquity and dazzling the present, drawing the sidelong gazes of countless people. For this person had already equaled the fastest cultivation speed in history, that of the most supreme among the divine race — Du Mu.

Everyone assumed that Ye Fan would now engage in one fierce clash after another — yet despite the tense atmosphere, no battles broke out.

Ye Fan had no conflicts whatsoever with the Divine Court, the underworld, or with Yao Guang, Yin Tiande, and the sacred spirit race. No one came to provoke him, even as the city grew ever more suffocating.

A silver moon hung across the sky, illuminating the Emperor Pass. Mists and vapors billowed within the city, accompanied by brilliant starlight. Immortal light rose from the chaotic lake, coiling among the nearby structures.

“After three or four hundred years apart, we meet again, Brother Dao, and your bearing remains as it ever was.” Zhang Bairen came calling, carrying a jar of wine.

Within the Emperor Pass, such things rarely occurred. Ordinarily, no one would set foot in another’s place of cultivation — doing so might provoke a fight.

For all who had set foot on this road were competitors. In the end, only one could stand at the very pinnacle. Following this road to its conclusion, a battle would eventually be inevitable.

“Three hundred years of life and death — muddled through, barely surviving. What bearing is there to speak of?” Ye Fan shook his head and invited him up to a platform built of blue stone.

The two sat facing each other beneath the moon and drank several cups. Their conversation was unhurried, and Zhang Bairen asked nothing of how Ye Fan had survived, just as Ye Fan asked nothing of his true origins and background.

Ye Tong, Hua Hua, and Yang Xi joined as well. After several cups, Hua Hua could not help himself and said: “I say, old Jade Emperor, are you a deity descended to the mortal world, or a reincarnation?”

Zhang Bairen heard this and smiled. “Are you speaking of me?”

He had an ordinary mortal’s constitution, with no particularly exceptional bloodline, yet it was impossible to gauge his depths. He was balanced and even-tempered, without any particular overbearing quality or piercing edge.

“Alas, you have forgotten the Moon Goddess and abandoned Eight Precepts — you are truly heartless.” Hua Hua poured wine and sighed.

Ye Fan listened to his nonsense and gave him a sharp flick on his bald head.

Zhang Bairen laughed amiably, entirely unperturbed. “Brother Ye,” he said, “do you think that reaching the final pass necessarily means one will achieve the Dao?”

Ye Fan shook his head. “To be unrivaled under heaven does not necessarily lead to achieving the Dao. Who can say what the future holds? But I do not intend to continue walking this road. I want to go back and have a look.”

This was a matter of fact. This road had been opened hundreds of times over the ages. From ancient times to the present, many campaigns had been fought all the way to this road’s end — and in every case, not one person had achieved the Dao.

Zhang Bairen was surprised. “To step off this road — to re-enter it afterward would be rather difficult.”

“What meaning is there in a half-crippled person contending with a host of heroes?” Ye Fan said self-deprecatingly.

Zhang Bairen smiled. “If you say such things, would you not make many people feel there is nowhere to put their faces? Even in this state, you have still slain the disciple of the Eternal Heavenly Venerable — how many people could accomplish that?”

“I want to return to the places I know and heal my body properly.” Ye Fan answered honestly.

He had been away for three hundred years. He wanted to go back and have a look. The friends and family he had once known all believed he was dead and had raised cenotaphs in his honor. He should let them know — he was still alive.

At the same time, given his current state, life-and-death battles might not necessarily serve him well. Perhaps doing nothing more than settling his mind in quiet contemplation of the Dao and the law would be of more use.

In truth, three hundred years ago Ye Fan had already fought to the death against ancient Supreme Beings. More slaughter now might not necessarily produce the most fundamental breakthrough to shatter his shackles.

The emperor’s road was carved out through killing — brutal to the extreme — but it was not necessarily suited to his current state.

“Master, you are leaving? Your name has already been inscribed on the Crystal Stele. Once you give it up, re-entry will truly be extraordinarily difficult — even impossible.” Yang Xi said.

Ye Fan nodded. This was his decision. He also warned them: on this road, if they found themselves unable to match an opponent, they must on no account act out of pride. They were still young, with many opportunities ahead — they must not throw their lives away needlessly.

In truth, as he said these words, Ye Fan’s heart felt very heavy. The battle for supremacy on the emperor’s road — the strong survived. To continue walking this path was inevitably to be accompanied by downfall and death.

“You are not the first to withdraw. It is said that someone, before the Crystal Stele’s summons even came, went directly and erased their own name — never having set foot in the grand pass at all.” Zhang Bairen said, without mentioning who this person was.

“The Sacred Emperor’s son, Senior Martial Uncle, came. He entered the city, wandered about, killed some ten-odd people he didn’t like the look of, and then left as well.” Ye Tong said.

“That monkey…” At this, Zhang Bairen showed an odd expression.

After the Sacred Emperor’s son had come, he had immediately gone looking for the hardest fights. He had challenged Zhang Bairen by name — yet at that time Zhang Bairen had entered the Immortal Ascension Battlefield, and so a battle had been narrowly avoided.

“It is said that some of the sons and daughters of certain ancient emperors and Supreme Beings have not come here — they may be intending to fight a different kind of life-and-death duel somewhere else.” Ye Tong said.

The Sacred Emperor’s son had clearly given up this road and hurried toward another battlefield to keep an appointment, but he had left word that he would be back again.

On the second day, the news that Ye Fan intended to withdraw spread, shaking the Emperor Pass and leaving many people somewhat dazed, unable to understand.

“Is this real? Why would he make such a choice?”

“I understand now. The battle three hundred years ago had too great an impact on him. He must have suffered from hidden afflictions beyond imagining. The Sacred Physique, Ye Fan, can only choose to withdraw in silence.”

The news was stunning. Discussion was widespread, and the more consistent view was that Ye Fan’s body bore hidden afflictions, forcing him into this choice with no other option.

Some were glad; some sighed; others let out a long breath. The reactions were varied.

The curtain falls on an era. Say what one will — Ye Fan had once been extraordinarily powerful, awe-inspiring to an entire generation. Though he had returned alive, his period of brilliance might have reached its end.

His fragments of Dao-law had not manifested; in his battle against the disciple of the Eternal Heavenly Venerable, he had fought using the Blood-Order Divine Chains forged from Sacred Blood — this alone was sufficient to prove the problem lay within himself.

In the days of old, why would he ever have allowed blood to flow outward from his body in such a battle?

Many held this view. A good number felt deep regret — they had thought they were seeing the rise of an invincible Sacred Physique once more, yet he had ultimately proven unable to defy heaven’s will.

Before departing, Ye Fan once more entered the Immortal Ascension Battlefield. Taking several magical artifacts and rare heavenly treasures from his three disciples, he crossed the entire battlefield and walked toward the human settlement on the first calamity star.

“Ah, Brother Ye Fan, you’re back!” Beyond the battlefield, Bai Ye was still there — having waited here all this time. The big-bearded man and the others were also present, all of them looking forward to this moment.

Ye Fan smiled and gave the big-bearded man and the others some magical artifacts, even passing on several powerful secret techniques — immediately filling them all with reverence, stunned as if in the presence of a divine being.

“These are divine battle techniques!”

However much they pleaded, Ye Fan still did not agree to take on disciples. He simply asked them to help look after Bai Ye in the days ahead.

He did not depart immediately. Instead, he and Bai Ye returned together to that small mountain village. From the pond, he pulled up that stalk of azure lotus — which, despite all the time that had passed, had not grown at all, remaining exactly as it had been, only with somewhat thicker primordial mist around it. This had once caused Old Bai to stare at it in a daze for many days.

“These things can help you cultivate.” Ye Fan left behind the precious medicine refined at the Celestial Village — containing components of the evolution fluid — which would allow Bai Ye to find the proper path forward in the days ahead. Then he left behind a sutra text and departed.

Ye Fan returned to the Emperor Pass. After much deliberation, he decided to take the initiative and call on several “old acquaintances.” If it truly came to it, he certainly would not shrink from a fight.

Unfortunately, he came up empty — all of them had already gone to the Immortal Ascension Battlefield.

The main gate of the Emperor Pass opened wide. Ye Fan walked out, then came to a halt before an enormous crystal stele and erased his own name from it, formally withdrawing from the sole true path.

Hearing of it was one thing; seeing it with one’s own eyes was another. Many people stood atop the city walls, witnessing all of this firsthand. All of them felt profound regret.

“How can it be like this? He was allowed to survive — yet why could he not be given an undamaged body?” Though they were his competitors, some could not help but share this thought.

And those who had come here only to experience a journey — never having intended to fight their way through bloodshed to contend for the imperial throne — sighed without end, all of them feeling it a pity.

“Is the era of the Sacred Physique — the glory of the Sacred Physique — truly to end here? He is clearly capable of slaying the disciple of the Eternal Heavenly Venerable!”

People could do nothing but watch as he left the pass.

“Master, wait for me!” Hua Hua came charging out. He quickly erased his own name from the crystal stele. “I’ll go back with you!” he said.

His reasoning was simple: he had no interest in fighting and killing. He had been pressured into coming here by Ye Tong in the first place — he had never originally had any desire to come here and temper himself.

“Master!” The other two disciples shouted, also wanting to rush out and follow him back.

But Ye Fan refused them firmly. He knew what was in Ye Tong’s heart — to fight all the way to the ninth and ultimate Emperor Pass. And Yang Xi was an even greater battle-fanatic, having long since come to regard this battlefield as the most important trial of his life.

Those who had once wished to follow Ye Fan stood on the city walls in silence. Some of them wanted to leave with him, but all were gently declined by Ye Fan. He did not want his withdrawal to affect the paths of others.

However, that blood crow was decisive. It rushed out unhesitatingly and erased its own name from the crystal stele, determined to follow.

“Farewell!” Ye Fan waved his hand behind him, then turned and walked away.

On the city gate tower, many people’s emotions were complex. The series of events of these past days had moved too swiftly — the Ye Fan of three hundred years ago had returned defying the heavens, appeared alive, and shaken the emperor city. Yet now he had suddenly withdrawn. It was truly full of dramatic turns.

Watching Ye Fan and the others recede into the distance, some people smiled coldly. Yet their smiles had not fully bloomed before they froze solid. For at that moment, Hua Hua turned around and shouted loudly: “Let the nine Emperor Passes tremble and wait — my master will have a day when he returns!”

He took out the Divine Light Platform and invited Ye Fan and the blood crow to board. Then, in an instant, he cleaved through the universe, and they vanished from the spot — bidding farewell, just like that, to the nine-tiered heavenly emperor’s road.