A low, thunderous roar arrived — like some wild beast from the primordial age that had been sealed up until now was snarling awake, shaking every listener’s soul nearly free of their body, making their entire frame feel as though it would split apart.

That sound was like muffled thunder, leaving every person’s ears ringing, their blood nearly bursting through their veins, their whole body resonating like a drumbeat.

What kind of powerful figure could produce this? Even before appearing, even with just this low growl, the penetrating force was already enough to make people’s primal souls feel on the verge of shattering. Truly terrifying.

The assembled sages retreated, not daring to watch from close range.

The yin soldiers and yin generals were no different — they fell back like a receding tide, clearing out an enormous open space.

Beneath the starry sky sat a war chariot. Upon it stood a cage — its entire body vivid red as blood, as though forged from phoenix-blood crimson gold, for one head after another of blood-phoenixes seemed to float and coil around it.

Yet on closer inspection, one realized it was actually a kind of terrifying wood. Some recognized it — this was a type of sacred wood that the Underworld had in its possession.

“Underworld Phoenix Blood Wood.”

Every heart trembled. This sacred wood served as the supreme shackle for yin spirits — once confined within it, escape was virtually impossible.

It was said to have originated from an immortal who had died and transformed into a nether-demon, their death condensed into a death-seed, which was then watered by phoenix blood until it grew into this strange wood. It was especially effective against yin divine entities.

Its origins were extraordinary beyond measure. Only a single tree of this kind existed in the entire world — there could never be a second. Like a medicine of immortality, each one was utterly unique.

This Underworld Phoenix Blood Wood had circulated in the outside world at some point in the past. It was said to be capable of refining various sinister weapons — deeply fearsome, and it had left indelible wounds upon the gods of former times.

Within the cage, iron chains clinked and clanged, striking against the Underworld Phoenix Blood Wood and producing bursts of sparks — testament to just how solid it was. Not even divine weapons could damage it in the slightest.

Inside it sat an old man. His white hair was loose and disheveled; heavy shackles bound his hands and feet, chained to the Underworld Phoenix Blood Wood cage; and his body was pierced by numerous divine needles.

The divine needles were nothing else: they had been carved from Underworld Phoenix Blood Wood, each more than half a foot long, all driven deep into the body of this man. This was a form of prohibition — ensuring that he could not break free or act against his captors.

Who was this person? Everyone was speculating. A prisoner escorted with such massive fanfare — hundreds of thousands of troops — surely had an extraordinary background beyond imagining.

Furthermore, since the Underworld had declared they would use this person to destroy Ye Tong and the others, they must have great confidence in him.

Everyone knew that the Underworld collected the most powerful physical remains from ten thousand ages of history. This person being treated with such measures — perhaps his identity was supremely heaven-defying, a world-shaking figure of legendary renown in the history of cultivation.

“Battle Slave — kill him!” The ghost marshal bellowed. In his hand was a magic instrument, glowing brilliantly — shaped like an astrolabe. He rotated it gently, and every divine needle piercing the white-haired man inside the cage leapt out at once, vanishing into the astrolabe.

Crack!

Several of the iron chains binding the Battle Slave snapped apart simultaneously. A powerful aura erupted like a star sea boiling over, shaking the starry sky — everyone present felt their hearts lurch.

No one had anticipated his strength would be this immense. With only a partial unsealing, this kind of aura had already swept outward in such a fashion. This was not the fluctuation of laws — this was the release of the most fundamental source force of a physical body.

Vast as a storming tide, it swept outward like monstrous waves, sending the distant sages flying end over end, unable to draw close. This was a kind of immense and terrible authority.

Clang clang clang!

His hands and feet still bore shackles — not truly unlocked — and were still immensely heavy. But the portions connecting him to the cage had already snapped free.

This person stood upright. His frame was uncommonly tall and imposing. He stepped out of the cage, his white hair loose and unrestrained, standing in the starry sky like a monument — carrying an indestructible aura.

“Roarrr—!”

Suddenly, he threw his head back and let out a long howl. His full head of white hair flew in wild disorder, exposing his true face. And in the process of that howl, countless sages spat up mouthfuls of blood, their bodies shaking violently.

They had already retreated far enough — yet they were still caught in the shockwave. Every single one was stunned and shaken. The origins and power of this person might be even more terrifying than they had imagined.

Beneath that disheveled mass of snow-white hair, a face covered in deep wrinkles was revealed — yet one could still make out the contours of what he had once been: resolute, cold, proud, and transcendent.

In his youth, he must have been a towering man of fierce and compelling spirit. Even aged, that heroic bearing had not diminished.

“He has not yet fully awakened, yet his blood and vital energy have not decayed — how strange. How has he been preserved like this?” The crowd was astonished.

The eyes of this tall, imposing old man held a mist of blood and a veil of shadow, indistinct and unclear — more like blood-lightning weaving together within them — chaotic, violent, carrying an air of world-ending destruction.

The ghost marshal’s astrolabe blazed with intense light. He shouted: “Kill him!” And then vanished from where he stood.

Everyone was moved by this — how powerful was this white-haired ancient figure, that not a single person could say for certain? He was completely impossible to see through.

There was no fluctuation of any law or magical power — only the most essential source force of a physical body, exactly as Ye Fan had once wielded. Through that instinct alone, he was capable of battling the heroes of this entire age.

Boom!

He stepped forward, and the cosmos cracked beneath that step. The ten thousand star systems all trembled. He fixed his gaze on Xiao Song and advanced.

“Young one, run quickly! This person is clearly stronger in cultivation than you — in all likelihood, this is a bloodline from a Supreme Being of a former age who had already achieved Great Perfection, ascending to the very pinnacle!” Someone from behind called out urgently.

Many people had developed genuine goodwill toward this easily embarrassed, shy young boy, and could not bear to see him come to harm. One after another, they urged him to go.

Xiao Song did not retreat. A radiant light burst from between his brows. A divine wheel appeared there, radiating world-shaking light. He called out in a gentle voice: “Elder — what has happened to you? Please wake up.”

Many people showed puzzled expressions. It seemed like some special secret technique — capable of causing a person’s soul to stir with agitation. Many people felt a sudden sensation as if their souls were about to leave their bodies.

The Underworld’s forces all froze for a moment, then revealed expressions of shock. This boy was truly extraordinary — what kinds of scripture and secret arts had he mastered?

Everyone instinctively looked toward his pine pagoda. At this moment, the fifth tier of the pagoda was especially radiant — flowing with immortal light, blazing with auspicious brilliance. Within it, a figure sat in meditation reciting scripture, channeling power onto Xiao Song, making the divine wheel before his brows blaze ever more intensely and emit wave after wave of a sound like a dragon’s roar.

“This is… the Dragon Roar Dao Cry of Great Emperor Fuxi!”

The ghost marshal was shocked — he could scarcely believe what he was seeing, and his face had gone somewhat pale. This had an enormous impact on the ancient corpse — especially on this Battle Slave who was on the verge of awakening yet still dazed and confused. It was like a lamp leading him toward the light.

Everyone was stunned and shaken.

Some powerful cultivators stared with blazing eyes at the divine-vein violet gold pagoda — this was truly a heaven-defying object. It had clearly traced and recorded far more than just one volume of fragmentary scripture.

The fifth tier of the pagoda was glowing, scripture text flickering and filling the void all around it. And the other eight tiers likewise had shadowy figures sitting within — they too, presumably, all contained remnant scriptures.

Where had this child come from, and what ancient ruins had he visited? To have obtained so many scripture texts through this pagoda that communicated with immortality — it was truly extraordinary.

Boom!

The white-haired old man charged forward. With every step he took, the heavens collapsed — the vast sky cracking open in endless, gaping fissures, as though a divine being had descended into the mortal world. Nothing in this universe could impede him.

“Elder, please wake up.” Xiao Song’s young, tender voice echoed. The divine wheel between his brows grew ever brighter. The fifth tier of the violet gold pagoda connected with him, and the cascading beam of light transformed into something like flowing streams of rosy mist, making the radiance at his brow ever more brilliant.

The blood-lightning in the old man’s eyes receded somewhat. His pace slowed. A look of bewilderment appeared on his face, a flicker of confusion — and then he could not hold back, and threw his head skyward in a howl once more.

The pagoda stirred in response. All nine tiers ignited simultaneously, violet energy billowing upward, trembling and wailing and calling out — and between the pagoda and the old man ahead, there was a connection no one could put into words.

“My pagoda!”

Suddenly, the old man let out those three words. His speech was indistinct, but they were still audible to the people around him.

Everyone shuddered involuntarily. Even the yin soldiers and yin generals all sensed that something had gone terribly wrong — they fell back like a tide. Who exactly was this person?

Xiao Song recited his scripture. His mouth produced the Dragon Roar Dao Cry, mixed with meditative chants of the Buddhist tradition. Several tiers of the ancient pagoda lit up together. Using multiple astonishing great divine abilities at once, he worked to awaken the old man.

There was not a trace of killing intent — not a shred of sharpness. There was only a child’s pure heart, filled entirely with sincerity. An unblemished and pristine state of mind spread outward, like spring rain nourishing all living things without a sound.

Drops of glowing light rained down, sinking into the old man’s skull, dissolving his agitation and violent temperament, gradually restoring him to calm.

“Fighting alone across the ends of heaven — a hero’s whole life — and I lost…”

His eyes held confusion, and also release — deeply complex. A brief and fleeting stillness settled over him.

These few words were not many, but they were enough to set people’s minds racing. One elderly sage let out a startled cry and said: “I know who he is — only he could be this powerful. He is Gu Xin’ao!”

Those words sent this entire gathering into an uproar.

Many people knew that name. Once it had shaken the cosmos, carving out a fearsome reputation across the world. In his whole life, he had suffered only a single defeat — but it was not one to be ashamed of.

For he was the one said to be the only person on the emperor’s path who could fight the Green Emperor blow for blow. Some ten thousand to twenty thousand years ago, in the skies of history, he had blazed the most brilliant arc of light.

How supremely formidable had the Green Emperor been? He had shaken ancient and modern times alike, undefeated throughout his entire life. Any obstacle he ever encountered, he swept away. The only boulder ever in his road was Gu Xin’ao, with whom he had once fought a great battle.

If Ye Fan were here, that name would not be unfamiliar to him at all — Gu Xin’ao was a legendary figure in the Eternal Star Domain, and Ye Fan had heard of him before.

He had been raised as a Battle Slave by the Eternal Star Domain — they had intended to extract the most powerful blood from his body. Instead, Gu Xin’ao had beaten his way out by force alone, inflicting terrible losses on the Eternal Star Domain, until finally the domain had no choice but to bow its head before him.

Some had said that Ye Fan might become a second Gu Xin’ao — and now this figure from incomprehensibly distant ages had appeared once more.

“Before attaining the Dao, he once fought the Green Emperor — and lost, but did not die. He went on to cultivate again, and it is said he created a great cultivation method involving transformation through a damaged body. But after going into seclusion, he was never seen again.” Someone sighed softly.

The events of the past surfaced in the minds of everyone present, and all of them were filled with emotion. This was the Gu Xin’ao of former times — resolute, confident, and unmatched — the enemy that even the Green Emperor had been forced to take seriously on the emperor’s path.

No wonder he was this powerful. No wonder he was this terrifying. No wonder the release of even just the source force of his physical body had produced such fearsome shockwaves, surging through the star rivers like a tide.

“The pagoda… I left it to my descendants.” Evidently, the Gu Xin’ao of today was no longer the man he had once been — for even the Green Emperor was dead, and Gu Xin’ao himself had passed away many years ago, with only shattered fragments of his divine consciousness flickering across his empty sea of consciousness.

It was precisely these shattered remnants of old memory that made his gaze, when he looked at Xiao Song, turn very gentle, full of closeness and warmth.

“Elder, this pagoda was something I found. It was left behind by a Quasi-Emperor who had already passed away.” Xiao Song said gently, and did not deceive this old man — whose divine consciousness was in chaos and who was operating only on instinct.

Gu Xin’ao’s divine consciousness had partly stirred to life by now, and he was not as impossible to communicate with as outside people imagined. Occasionally flashes of clarity would pass through him.

“A child’s pure heart — the labors of this world cannot bind it. The so-called near-immortal state — it is when all dust has been shed and light emerges.”

The old man’s gaze grew gentler still — but tears also slid down his cheeks, though it was unclear whether they were for himself, or for the fate that had befallen his descendants.

Everyone was shaken. This was the Gu Xin’ao of former times — capable of doing battle with the Green Emperor. Could he truly have recovered his memories? How was it that he seemed increasingly human, with his flashes of clarity growing ever more frequent?

Boom!

Suddenly, Gu Xin’ao turned around. He faced the hundreds of thousands of yin soldiers and yin generals, raised his palm, and pressed it forward.

“Battle Slave — return to your position!” The ghost marshal cried out in terror.

Xiao Song sat cross-legged in the void. The divine wheel at his brow flickered as the Dragon Roar Dao Cry and the recitation of incantations rang out from his lips.

Gu Xin’ao plunged into the Underworld’s great army. In that place, heaven crumbled and earth shattered — the hundreds of thousands of Underworld forces were wiped out completely, every last one slaughtered to nothing.

That day, the starry sky trembled in shock.

A simple, sincere, and pure young boy who would flush red even when speaking — leading Gu Xin’ao toward the Heavenly Court. When every corner of the cosmos learned of this, they were all shaken by what felt like a great earthquake.