The young boy stood beneath the starry sky, and every single yin soldier came to a halt. Stars glimmered point by point, and yin energy drifted in waves — a single person blocking the path of hundreds of thousands of troops.

Those standing behind him were all shaken. A very beautiful boy, still bearing the shyness of youth — yet in this moment he carried a kind of aura that made people look up at him, an aura that suppressed the entire star domain.

From the front, a yin commander swept his hand back, and every yin soldier behind him raised their bronze spears in unison, aiming forward. Bronze armor gleamed, and frigid energy spread in all directions.

“Who are you?” The ghost marshal’s voice was like two pieces of cold iron grinding together — stripped of all human warmth, making every listener’s flesh crawl and their skin rise with goosebumps.

“I am Xiao Song.” The boy replied shyly, his eyes glittering with bright light, his lashes long and delicate, his hair light and ethereal, his frame slight and slender.

He gave people a contradictory impression: the boy looked endearing, yet the powerful aura emanating from him invisibly caused every yin soldier and yin general to feel a sense of pressure.

“Xiao Song? Never heard of him.” The yin commander murmured, and the several powerhouses of the same rank standing beside him also shook their heads coldly, indicating that they knew of no such person.

“Do you know where we come from?” one of them asked, cold and distant.

“I don’t.” The boy was a little embarrassed, a flush of red appearing on his face. He felt he had not seen enough of the world.

Every yin general’s expression was frigid. One of them said: “We come from the Underworld!”

“The Underworld…” The boy said quietly. He had no idea where that was — he had never heard of such a cultivation sect. Truthfully, though a little nervous, he answered: “I’m sorry. I don’t know it. I haven’t heard of it.”

Behind him, a group of yin generals felt a sudden pang of aggrieved fury, glowering with rage. No one had ever dared treat them with such contempt.

Yang Xi was arrogant, and had slain a hundred and eight of their yin generals, but even he had never said he had not heard of the Underworld. Ye Tong was powerful, consecutively slaying three of the Underworld’s great successors, but even he acknowledged that this organization was terrifyingly formidable. Yet this boy, who was prettier than any girl, said it like that — looking down on them with apparent disregard — and every yin general with any measure of intelligence erupted with fury, feeling profoundly insulted.

“You… haven’t heard of us?” One of the ghost marshals spoke with icy coldness, his very voice altered, the yin energy in it carrying a piercing sharpness.

“I’m sorry. I… truly have never heard of it.” The boy lowered his head, growing all the more embarrassed, his little face flushing red.

The group of sages who had been fleeing all stopped in their tracks, a little dazed. Some even drew sharp breaths. Who was this boy? Was he really Ye Fan’s disciple?

Was this arrogance — a refusal to take the Underworld seriously? But it didn’t quite look like that. The expression on his face, the tone in his voice, could not have been an act. Was he genuinely a boy who had not yet experienced the world?

Everyone was a little confused. Those who had been fleeing all stopped and no longer left, watching quietly from afar.

Across from them, quite a few of the Underworld’s ghost generals felt a hot spike of rage clench in their chests. That little flushed face, in their eyes, represented the most extreme level of contempt — a deliberate act of provocation.

“For countless ages, the Underworld has stood at the pinnacle of the cosmos. We caused the Heavenly Court to collapse; yet we ourselves have endured through ten thousand ages. We have brought countless gods to lay down their lives and left behind an undying name of glory. Who would dare show us disrespect? Yet you, a mere fledgling, are this arrogant — insulting our Underworld. Let us see today whether you can truly defy heaven.” The ghost marshal spoke calmly and with chilling indifference.

“Uncle, I’m sorry — I genuinely did not know.” The boy explained, looking a little flustered.

The yin commander heard this and could not suppress a shudder. Uncle? Truly intolerable — he had never encountered such an infuriating boy. The arrogance was beyond measure!

“This child… has quite the personality!”

“He’s showing no fear, surely someone is backing him — could it be the Sacred Physique Ye Fan has arrived, or perhaps that big black dog? Someone must have told him to talk this way.”

The assembled sages could not help but laugh. Clearly the boy was playing with some kind of hidden card — something capable of withstanding the Underworld’s storm. Perhaps the Heavenly Court’s army had arrived and was preparing for a great decisive battle.

As for the Underworld’s side, they were left in a long and extremely awkward silence. This was too much — insulted again and again, over and over. This boy truly showed not the slightest mercy.

“Kill!”

The ghost marshal swept his hand, the units behind him formed into battle formation, rows of great banners unfurled, formation platforms rose up in rows, and runes lit up in vast numbers — these were the killing formations of the Underworld, presided over by a group of yin generals.

A terrifying yin energy spread outward, engulfing the starry sky in an instant. Any ordinary person would have shuddered — it was a trembling originating from the very soul, with death rushing up to meet you.

The aura of young Xiao Song also shifted abruptly. Though he was still shy, the energy radiating from him grew incomparably powerful — like an immortal sacred mountain standing immovable in that place.

Great banners flew toward him, formation platform after formation platform descended, pressing down to suppress Xiao Song, each erupting with a terrifying aura of death. The formation runes were like the tendons of the cosmos itself, flickering with blinding light.

Crack!

What no one had expected: every formation platform and every banner proved useless. The moment any of them drew close to Xiao Song, they exploded to pieces. The wave of ghost generals that came charging in were blasted horizontally through the air, coughing up blood without ceasing.

Xiao Song had not even made a move. All that appeared around his body was a single ring of violet divine light — an instinctive defense — and yet it had sent every last one of them flying.

“So powerful!”

People were shocked, and their faces turned pale on the spot.

The ghost marshal’s expression darkened. He stepped into battle personally, wielding a Quasi-Emperor weapon as he attacked — a black iron spear, twisting through space like a black serpent-dragon, dark and sinister.

Clang!

The attack was still useless. The Quasi-Emperor weapon was repelled by the violet divine ring and sent flying, and the ghost marshal was launched backward through the air, bones cracking throughout his body. He had sustained severe injuries and was nearly reduced to a mass of flesh.

Every onlooker’s eyelids twitched. The stronger the attacking force, the greater the rebound — this was truly terrifying. Just an innocent-looking boy, and yet so utterly defiant of heaven. Even a Quasi-Emperor weapon striking him could not cause the slightest harm — it was automatically deflected back. How astonishing was this?

“Are you… alright?” Xiao Song looked completely at a loss, as if he had never harmed another person before. Seeing people coughing up blood, seeing people collapsed on the ground without moving — he was deeply distressed.

“Quasi-Emperor!” The ghost marshal struggled painfully to his feet, reconnected his broken bones, his face white as a sheet as he uttered those two words, shaking everyone present.

A seemingly young and inexperienced boy — and yet he was a Quasi-Emperor!

“Just who are you?” The Underworld’s forces demanded loudly.

“I am Xiao Song. I am… the disciple of the Sacred Physique Ye Fan.” The boy’s voice was not loud — he was a little flustered, a little nervous, as he looked around at everyone.

The Underworld’s forces erupted all at once. He was actually Ye Fan’s disciple — clearly here specifically targeting them. Recalling all the earlier “insults,” every ghost general seethed with indignation even more fiercely.

This young boy was Ye Fan’s disciple. The two sides were absolute mortal enemies. Everything that had happened earlier must have been intentional on his part — that was what every last one of them believed, and their hostility ran deep.

“You’ve gone too far — this is too much!” The ghost marshal bellowed.

“Elder, I haven’t — I’m sorry. I did not wish to harm anyone. But you were going to make trouble for the Heavenly Court, and you attacked me — I had no choice but to defend myself.” Xiao Song explained.

“The enmity between the Underworld and the Heavenly Court cannot be resolved. Ye Tong must die, every drop of Ye Fan’s blood must be spilled, and you — as his disciple — must be put to death as well!” From behind, a ghost general, having long since reached his limit, raged: it was obvious from the boy’s manner that he was deliberately mocking them.

“The Heavenly Court lineage must be destroyed!”

A group of ghost generals cried out.

“Why must it be like this? What you are doing is wrong.” The boy spoke, sincerely and with genuine distress, firmly refuting them, a little agitated, a flush of red creeping across his face.

“I cannot bear this — this is outrageous! I have never encountered anyone this insufferably arrogant — arrogance taken to its absolute limit, insulting us over and over without stopping! Forget it — let’s fight him to the end!”

Someone deployed a formation platform and activated a Quasi-Emperor formation array, unleashing it in a bombardment toward the boy ahead.

“This is really wrong. We could sit down and talk things over — war is truly not a good thing.” The boy called out, sounding utterly sincere and earnest.

Boom!

The Quasi-Emperor formation array reactivated, its power mighty and earthshaking, its aura stirring heaven and earth and causing ghosts and gods to retreat. It far surpassed any ordinary Quasi-Emperor formation array — this was one of the trump cards prepared specifically for breaking through the Heavenly Court.

Above Xiao Song’s head, a flash of violet light burst from his crown. From the top of his skull rose a pagoda — nine tiers tall, its shape peculiar and somewhat resembling the seed clusters of a pine tree: a pine pagoda.

The moment this pagoda appeared, every onlooker was dumbstruck. That aura, that luster, that radiance of the Dao — it was as if an immortal treasure from the upper realm had come descending, dazzling and blinding, its Dao light extraordinary.

It was a violet Dao pagoda — crystalline and lustrous, suffused entirely in violet light, misty energy rising and swirling around it. In each tier, an immortal lord sat in meditation, reciting scriptures, speaking of the secrets of creation.

It had been forged entirely from divine-vein violet gold — every last part of it, without even a single impurity. Flawless and resplendent, its immortal light was overwhelming. It contained the divine vein markings from the era when heaven and earth first opened, serving as naturally occurring scripture text.

“To have refined it to such a degree!” People cried out in astonishment.

Every type of immortal gold has its own unique value. Divine-vein violet gold, when it has been spiritually cultivated to the point of communicating with the immortal realm — after fusing with the master’s soul — can capture the great Dao runes scattered throughout heaven and earth.

Especially when entering ancient ruins or exploring lost sites: with such an immortal treasure in hand, it becomes possible to trace and record the various runic imprints left behind by ancient people in the moments they realized the Dao — its uses are limitless.

Though such things have been said, from ancient times to the present, no one had ever spiritually cultivated divine-vein violet gold to such a heaven-defying degree — granting it an entirely new life, making it spiritually aware and divine.

How had this boy managed it? Legend said that only someone near-immortal could possess such a divine ability.

The divine-vein violet gold pine pagoda with nine tiers — within each tier sat an immortal lord in meditation, reciting different scriptures, their voices rumbling and resounding. This was the single most incomprehensible thing to every onlooker.

“He has obtained many scripture texts through this divine pagoda — though all of them are incomplete fragments, they are still utterly breathtaking!” It was not only the Underworld’s people who were nearly struck dumb — even the assembled sages behind them were stunned.

In this world, there are two kinds of divine objects that might possess this heaven-defying ability to capture the Dao patterns of heaven and earth. The first is divine-vein violet gold spiritually cultivated to the point of communicating with immortality. The second is the Immortal Exquisite Object.

The latter, however, is impractical — it is said that it can only be used inside the immortal realm, where immortal energy nourishes it, making it nearly meaningless in this realm.

Divine-vein violet gold had been obtained by others before — but one refined to the point of communicating with immortality to this degree? There had never been a second instance. It had nothing to do with cultivation level; it related to the nature of the holder being near-immortal.

How could Ye Fan have a disciple like this? This was truly something capable of shaking the entire world!

“Can a person like this truly exist in the world? Could it be that he is destined to become an immortal?” Everyone was transfixed.

This display shook people to the core — and was even more alarming than Ye Tong’s combat power. Because no one knew what degree of greatness this shy, timid boy would grow to reach in the future.

“I understand now. He wasn’t deliberately mocking us. This is simply his nature — a child’s pure heart, untouched by the labors of this mortal world. The so-called ‘near-immortal’ — what it requires is that all dust be shed and light emerge.” The ghost marshal finally understood completely.

Having understood, he was filled with a deep, unsettling dread. He gave the order: “Kill him!”

He commanded the yin soldiers and yin generals to open the prison cage, ordering everyone else to fall back, intending to let that being — once the most peerless in this world — emerge and cut Xiao Song down.