Yinghou — a sinister, demonic star. That was Ye Fan’s most visceral impression of this place, for here lay memories etched into the very marrow of his bones. Half of his former classmates had perished on this world, their souls claimed by its cursed soil.
Recalling those experiences, it felt as though it had all happened only yesterday.
How many bygone moments can one ever reclaim? The fragments of those days had drifted away with the passage of time, and some people would never be seen again. He still remembered those pale faces — the helpless eyes, the desperate yearning to live.
Ye Fan stood in silence. It was in this very place that several of his closest brothers had fallen one after another into pools of blood. He had pulled with all his strength, yet could not lift them back to their feet, could not hold their lives in his hands.
Time flows like a river, slowly carrying away so many things, sweeping so many feelings far from shore.
Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin — its origin unknown, its destination unknown — had set them adrift, never to return to the world they once knew. The trajectories of their lives had been forever altered, and the years they once shared had become nothing more than memories.
The experiences of life and death, the mournful dirge of blood and fire — few had survived to walk this far. Only a handful remained, giving voice to scattered, weathered fragments of the past.
The wind began to stir. Across the ancient star of Yinghou, everything was a deep, scorched red. Coarse grains of sand blanketed the land everywhere, and the vast, parched Gobi stretched out without a single trace of life. Not a familiar face, not a familiar relic, could be seen.
All of them had been buried here.
Ye Fan strode forward. Now, with a single thought, he could make stars tumble and fall. Planets held no particular significance to him anymore, and his divine sense could blanket this entire world in an instant.
Yet here, he felt the weight of an enormous pressure. Yinghou was absolutely extraordinary — it could not be measured by ordinary reasoning. Whoever came here in arrogant confidence, thinking to refine this entire celestial body for themselves, would surely be stopped cold by an invisible wall.
Deep beneath the surface of Yinghou, there truly lurked something of immense and terrible power. Whoever dared to act rashly here would inevitably face a bloody catastrophe. That was Ye Fan’s first instinctive reaction, and he could not help but furrow his brows.
This place had swallowed too much. It bore witness to a heavy and terrifying history — an imperial-level battle that had raged here in ages past, sealed away beneath the years, yet never truly dissipated.
Ye Fan drew his attention back from the depths beneath the earth and walked along the surface. The Great Thunder Sound Temple and all the other structures he once knew no longer existed — even their ruins had nearly vanished without a trace.
Drawing upon his formidable divine sense, he located the foundations where the Great Thunder Sound Temple had once stood. The Ancestral Crocodile was long gone, yet the dungeon still radiated a bone-deep, gloomy chill.
Long ago, Shakyamuni had established the Eighteen Levels of Hell, sealing eighteen great powers of the universe within. Blood-thirsty and savage figures like the Ancestral Crocodile, fearsome divine beings like the Great Completion Holy Body — which among them had ever been easy to deal with?
This was the Yin-Yang Prison, divided into upper and lower chambers that mutually restrained and complemented one another — an ingenious design that had harnessed the natural forces of heaven and earth to suppress two great demon kings for two thousand years.
Now that Ye Fan had returned to this old ground, he naturally wished to examine it thoroughly. In those earlier days, his cultivation had been far weaker, and many things here had been beyond his ability to fully perceive and understand.
“These wall carvings truly do carry deep meaning — are they hinting at the terrible secrets hidden beneath Yinghou? Wild beasts as soldiers, creatures like the Peng and the Kirin as generals, all pointing toward a deep and sunken burial ground.”
Ye Fan had deciphered their meaning. Shakyamuni had also sought to explore the world beneath the sea-eye of Yinghou, yet he had failed. Something had eluded him — he had fallen just short, and in the end could only choose to reinforce the seals, preventing the demonic creatures within from breaking free.
With a gentle sweep of his hand, Ye Fan cleared away the dust. A massive stone pillar cracked and groaned, shedding a layer of powdered stone — and then nine stars blazed brilliantly into view, blazing with dazzling light.
“The stellar coordinates of the Eighteen Levels of Hell…” Ye Fan was startled. As he had suspected, something was concealed within.
This was the power of the sixth tier of the Quasi-Emperor realm — nothing escaped his perception. Every last clue, however minute, was reflected clearly in his mind. This was the mystery that Shakyamuni had carved into stone.
The remaining eight stellar coordinates were each like this one — divided into upper and lower Yin-Yang chambers — and were distributed across the eight ancient domains.
Now understanding, Ye Fan made his way to the surface. He spent two days observing Yinghou from above, making no rash moves, before crossing the stellar void to seek out the other levels of the prison.
By now, Ye Fan had attained a level of power at which all corners of this world lay open to him. Even a demonic domain sealed by a Quasi-Emperor of ages past could be entered with ease and composure.
Perhaps he might gain further insight — and from that insight, find a safer means of probing the secrets buried deep beneath Yinghou.
He moved with great speed. Though he crossed endless stretches of star-filled void, time seemed to stand still in an instant.
He arrived at his first destination. Here, no trace of life’s vital breath could be felt. Desolation was the ruling theme. Ye Fan murmured softly: “Can this truly be the place where the ninety-nine Dragon Mountains once descended?”
He investigated carefully and discovered that this had once been a wellspring of life — but it had dried up completely. Every trace of spiritual energy had turned to nothing, taken away by some mysterious force. Across the earth, faint remnants still lingered: the traces of where long dragon veins had once lain.
Yinghou was another such place. Earth had been the final stop — the one that had survived, escaping destruction.
A shattered stone stele stood here. No one knew how many years had passed since anyone had last set foot in this place. Not a single other trace remained.
“The Demon-Sealing Stele.”
Three ancient characters were inscribed upon the broken monument. Ye Fan had searched across the entire ancient star and found only this one peculiar location — he was certain this was where the prison lay.
He pulled the stele free. Instantly, wave after wave of demonic energy surged upward, erupting like a volcanic explosion, with billowing clouds of mist and vapor rising to blot out the sky.
This was indeed a dungeon. A great demon of world-shaking renown had been sealed within the first level, and from the depths came an excited yet terrifying roar: “Fellow Daoist outside — lend me a hand, and you will be richly rewarded.”
“State your name,” Ye Fan said calmly.
“Great Xia Dragon Sparrow!” The roar shook the heavens, carrying within it both a bold and unyielding spirit and a fierce, haughty pride.
Ye Fan was momentarily speechless. Was this not the ancestor of Long Yuxuan — the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow, a demon god of one age, who had once commanded the winds and rains across ancient China, looking down upon an entire era with contempt?
Could it truly be him, sealed here?
Ye Fan asked the question, and a sudden silence fell from within, followed by an explosion of fury: “I merely stayed in that place for a time, seeking immortal treasures — and instead found myself sealed beneath Yinghou. Are you threatening me? The bloodline I left behind there is of no consequence — it cannot bind me.”
Ye Fan laughed. He tore open the seal, and in an instant a Dragon Sparrow burst forth from within an ancient well — it beat its wings against the sky, then came plunging back down in a torrent of wild and domineering presence.
“I freed you. And you still wish to act against me?”
Ye Fan’s expression was calm. He raised a hand and struck. With a thunderous boom, the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow spat blood, its body drenched in red, golden divine feathers scattering in all directions — and in its eyes, there appeared a look of sheer terror.
In its time, it had been a demon god of one age, standing at the very peak of the Great Sage realm. Though Shakyamuni had stripped away the greater part of its cultivation and sealed it here, it had not spent those years in idleness — it had recovered its power and awaited the day of its release.
Yet it had never imagined that this person before it would be so terrifying — so young, and yet surpassing even that bald monk from long ago. Far too frightening.
“I was only testing your strength — I bear you no ill will,” the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow explained. Deep within its heart, a great dread had taken hold. This was no longer its era, yet here stood another figure of such terrifying magnitude.
“Boom!”
Ye Fan’s great hand came down a second time. The Great Xia Dragon Sparrow’s soul nearly leapt from its body as it shot skyward in desperation, only to be seized in a grip of gold — there was no escape.
“Please, show mercy!” it cried out, unable to stop itself.
“Let this be a lesson to you. There are many in this world who can bring you to heel. Do not let your own strength make you arrogant, nor slaughter without reason.” Ye Fan released it, yet left its entire body seeping blood, with many of its bones shattered.
The Great Xia Dragon Sparrow was overcome with dread and said nothing more.
Ye Fan broke open the other chamber of the prison, but it was empty — the one who had been sealed within had entered nirvana several centuries ago and left only a skeleton, unable to endure the erosion of time.
The Great Xia Dragon Sparrow made to leave, but Ye Fan forcibly kept it at his side. It possessed no small amount of extraordinary abilities, and its behavior was reckless — if displeased, it might lash out and take lives. That must have been why it had been sealed away in the first place.
The Great Xia Dragon Sparrow was left with no choice. This young man was too powerful; escape was impossible. It had no option but to follow.
“We who were sealed away — that we still have our lives is due to two things: first, that bald monk was, in his way, compassionate; and second, we each know certain secrets about the divine star of Yinghou, which makes us of some value to those who come after. Still, this fate of being ‘left for the one destined to come’ is truly infuriating,” the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow said honestly.
Ye Fan nodded and pressed on to the next location. This time, two living beings were released from their seal — a silver serpent and a hundred-limbed celestial worm.
These two were both creatures of terrible ferocity. The moment they broke free, they attacked — and the result was that Ye Fan thrashed both of them soundly with a single hand, beating them into complete submission so that they dared not act wildly again.
The Great Xia Dragon Sparrow sighed. “In their time, these two were also earth-shaking figures. Had they not been sealed by Shakyamuni, they would most likely have stepped into the Quasi-Emperor realm. And yet today, they’ve just taken a thorough beating.”
“You’d better keep quiet. Who doesn’t know you were once a creature of great ferocity yourself? And yet here you are now, tamed into an obedient bird!” the Hundred-Limbed Celestial Worm shot back.
And so it went. Ye Fan broke through seven stars in succession and released twelve ancient beings in all — every one of them extraordinarily powerful. He had nothing gentle to say to these demonic and ferocious creatures; if they dared to cause trouble, he struck immediately.
This approach proved most effective. Ye Fan had beaten all of these great malevolent beings into perfect obedience, leaving them without the courage to cause any further disorder, and they were compelled to follow at his side.
He placed no formal restraints upon them — his power at the sixth tier of the Quasi-Emperor realm was sufficient to hold them all in check through sheer Aura of Power. Any great malevolent creature, before a strong practitioner of this level, could only crouch in submission. To resist would simply be to throw one’s life away.
When he arrived at the final star, someone issued a challenge against Ye Fan. This was the only Quasi-Emperor among those sealed — the most powerful and fearsome individual of his era. This person had had his cultivation stripped away, yet through two thousand years of bitter cultivation, had forcibly restored his divine abilities, and had even come close to advancing a step further. He was a practitioner of the third tier of the Quasi-Emperor realm — yet he had never managed to break free of his prison.
When Ye Fan broke open this last prison cell, it truly cost him a considerable effort.
This was an ancient bird, its entire body covered in brilliant crimson feathers that it had transformed into a Daoist robe to wear upon its body. It came at Ye Fan immediately to fight to the death, knowing that if it did not fight, it would be subdued and unable to escape.
“If your nature is peaceful, I will not keep you at my side — you are free to go. But since I have released you, I bear responsibility toward the other living beings of this world, and I cannot allow you to leave and cause chaos.”
Ye Fan made his move. It was, as before, remarkably simple — a flick of his sleeve, and the creature was swept inside, no matter how vast its divine abilities, unable to fly free from that expanse.
“That old rooster once called himself ‘Shan Huang’ — the Mountain Phoenix. With his bloodline awakened, he was said to be unrivaled among the demon clans. Yet he never won a single battle against that bald monk, and now today, he meets yet another crushing defeat.”
“That old rooster really has terrible luck — haughty and proud, yet always running into the most supremely powerful beings, who put him in his place.”
The other demonic creatures murmured among themselves. Some could not conceal their schadenfreude; in the old days, they had suffered at his hands and were glad to see him take a loss.
“Aaah…!”
The ancient mountain bird let out a great roar. Its phoenix blood surged and boiled, and its Daoist robe shattered. It transformed into a hundred thousand divine feathers that shot toward Ye Fan like arrows, trying to break free from within his sleeve.
“The old rooster is fighting with everything it has — a feathered fury, truly beyond all reason now, holding absolutely nothing back — and quite thoroughly unclothed.”
Ye Fan was momentarily speechless. This Daoist cultivator born from a mountain pheasant spirit truly was explosive in temperament — to go this far. He turned his hand over and pressed down, forcing the creature to revert to its original form — and indeed, it truly was a bare, featherless rooster.
With a gap of three full cultivation tiers between them, and with Ye Fan pressing so forcefully, this ancient demon had absolutely no means of resistance. Formidable as it was, it was no match by any measure.
“I submit!”
In the end, the old mountain rooster yielded and revealed its origins. It truly was a rooster spirit that had attained enlightenment inside an immortal’s cave dwelling, cultivating a supreme and unparalleled set of divine abilities.
It despised being called a mountain pheasant or a rooster spirit, and had given itself the title of “Shan Huang” — the Mountain Phoenix.
Ye Fan had no intention of humiliating it, and spoke with kindness, explaining the purpose for which he had sought them all out.
The group of fourteen returned together to the star of Yinghou. All of these individuals had once come here in pursuit of immortal treasures, and each knew certain secrets. Together, they would be of tremendous help in exploring this place.
In truth, though these thirteen great demons had been somewhat resistant at first, once they arrived here their spirits settled considerably. They too wished to witness the supreme treasures and great secrets hidden within Yinghou.
“Friends — since we have all chosen the same path, let us explore it together and find out what lies at the end,” Ye Fan said.
He felt a certain emotion stirring within him. In those earlier days, the Eighteen Levels of Hell had been little more than a legend to him. Yet here he stood, having broken it open with his own hands and released thirteen ancient living beings from within.
How the years had flown — it all felt like a dream.