“Were you among them as well?” Ye Fan’s feet were drenched in crimson — the blood of an Ancient Imperial bloodline — with divine light blazing and bursting brilliantly all around.

Yet he had not once looked down. It was as though he had crushed nothing more than a stinking insect, treating it as beneath notice, his gaze fixed entirely on the Ruins Woman in the distant sky.

The sight was chilling. That had been a genuine Ancient Imperial Prince — high above all others regardless of the age — and yet here he was, so utterly fragile, collapsing beneath Ye Fan’s foot like clay chickens and pottery dogs.

It was not as though something like this had never happened before — but it was rare. Only a Great Emperor in his youth had ever been capable of it, and each such instance was inscribed into the most important annals of history, never to be forgotten.

The Ruins Woman’s heart was hammering, the blood draining from her face. She was heaven’s favored daughter — and yet, confronted with this supreme demon king standing before her, she could not summon even a shred of superiority.

She did not even realize it herself: she was retreating. It was the instinct of the soul — a primordial terror born in the face of the figure ahead. On an ordinary day, how could she ever be like this? The blood of an Ancient Imperial line was proud, self-assured.

But now, her very soul was quaking — filled with unwillingness. Her body had betrayed the will of her mind.

“Holy Body, stay your hand — hear me out. There are Supremes watching you even now. If you undergo your tribulation, you will be discovered, and great calamity will follow…” the Ruins Woman said, forcing herself to appear calm.

“You think I need you to tell me these things?” Ye Fan pressed forward, his white hair flowing like snow.

And the Ruins Woman’s complexion went equally white as snow. Anxiety rose in her, along with a growing premonition of doom — her fear intensified by the moment. She was the daughter of a Supreme, her blood high and noble; she had never regarded the world’s powerful figures as anything. No one had dared to come for them.

They stood above the rules of this world. The so-called constraints, the so-called codes of conduct among the powerful — to them, it was all a joke.

And yet, today, her nerve had faltered.

“Your forebears were once respected. But now they have abandoned this world, retreating into corruption and decay. As for you…” Ye Fan said with a cold smile.

In a single step he had pressed to close range, and a great shout burst from his lips: “Since you were among them — then let this end!”

He did not strike with his hands. A single thunderous cry — and the stellar rivers around him shattered, heaven and earth exploded apart. The Ruins Woman screamed, the secret treasures in her hands blazing with light as she fought back with them.

These were divine artifacts forged for her by her Ancient Imperial kin — and yet they burst apart in an instant, useless. She could not withstand this kind of sonic wave and crushing pressure. Both hands flew up to cover her ears, and she fell to her knees, shrieking like someone driven mad, blood streaming from all seven orifices.

That sight was too horrifying. A princess elevated above all others, and yet she had not the slightest ability to fight back — her body shattering inch by inch, terror written all over her face as it froze in that expression — then with a sudden crack, she disintegrated in this stretch of starry sky.

“Who is that?”

That immense sonic wave reverberated through the universe — even a slumbering Supreme stirred with faint awareness.

Before the Underworld, Chuan Ying — the First Divine General of the Ancient Heavenly Court — opened his eyes. He was already very old, hair fully white, and in that moment he rose to his feet and said: “I should put myself to rest now. I cannot hold on any longer.”

This free-spirited and imposing divine general — even unto old age, his face retained that boyish quality — but now it was etched with wrinkles. His life had reached its end; he could no longer sustain himself.

“You have appeared alive — though whether you succeed, I cannot know.” He sighed, gazing out into the starry cosmos, and said: “This mortal world… how one lingers over it. A pity. In all of ancient history, not one person has ever truly achieved undying life.”

He straightened his spine and laughed out loud — a broad, resounding laugh: “Ning Fei — do you still hear my words? People like us — how can we fade away without a sound? Even in death, we must make the heavens and earth tremble and resound for us!”

He grasped his stone staff, slung his black longbow across his back, and strode in great steps toward that dark earth of the Underworld. He would make his exit amid the most glorious battle he could fight.

“Senior — where are you going?” A voice came from behind him, and a white-haired man arrived. Ye Fan had come.

The First Divine General of the Ancient Heavenly Court turned around and smiled, saying: “You have done well — you walked to this point. Go face your great tribulation. I may not speak for other places, but for the Underworld — I will hold it for you. Go.”

“No — I will handle it myself.” Ye Fan spoke. He did not want to watch the First Divine General of the Ancient Heavenly Court die.

“I have lived long enough already. My obsession was to kill or die by the Deathless Heavenly Emperor’s hand — but now I cannot find him, so let me end things here in the Underworld.” Chuan Ying said, a smile on his face as he turned his gaze toward the Underworld.

“Senior, please drink this blood.” Ye Fan opened his palm. A cluster of crimson fire danced upon it — looked at closely, it was vivid red blood, but it moved like a tongue of flame, luminous and brilliant.

“I have drunk the immortal blood of an Emperor Venerable before. A hundred years ago, I also bathed in the blood of the Deathless Heavenly Emperor — it is no longer of great use. I want only one last, satisfying battle now.” Chuan Ying said.

“Then let me accompany Senior to the Underworld — deal with matters here first, and then speak of other things.” Ye Fan said.

“You can no longer suppress it. Do not waste your strength here. If every Supreme locks onto you, there will be truly no hope left at all.” The First Divine General of the Ancient Heavenly Court shook his head and said: “Save your strength. This place — I will hold it for you and seal it off!”

Ye Fan fell silent. Then he turned and walked away.

This was the last time he would see the First Divine General of the Ancient Heavenly Court. That free-spirited, world-defying hero had ultimately been defeated by time itself — and after this day, there would be no more Chuan Ying in all under heaven.

The cosmic tempest winds blew. Ye Fan’s full head of white hair streamed in the gale. He passed through one stellar river after another. In his eyes, suns and moons shattered, stellar rivers broke apart, and the scene of the first opening of heaven and earth played out before him.

The cosmos was in tremendous upheaval at that moment. Ye Fan’s return had set off a tremendous wave of shock in every corner — and word of how he had swept away the Hegemon Bloodline’s vast army with a wave of his hand had long since spread.

Moreover, his earlier act of stamping Wangsheng to death and shattering the Ruins Woman with a shout had been captured by someone wielding a supreme ancient treasure — the All-Seeing Heavenly Eye — and had stunned the entire starry cosmos.

The All-Seeing Heavenly Eye had originally been a supreme divine artifact of the Demon Emperor’s Palace in the Big Dipper. Now it drifted through the starry sea at large — and it had even sensed Ye Fan and the others when they were carried into the Big Dipper aboard the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin in those years past.

Once the news spread, the Forbidden Zone disciples turned pale one by one. Everyone felt themselves in danger, and all went into hiding at the very first moment.

Especially so when Ye Fan walked through the starry sky, and his path took him through the locations where they were hiding — in those moments, hearts leaped into throats, everyone terrified of being discovered.

On this day, wherever Ye Fan walked, everyone who had emerged from the Life Forbidden Zones fell silent. Not a single one dared to leap out. All plunged into the stellar rivers and ran — it could only be described as fleeing at the sight of him.

The world simply could not believe it. Those Forbidden Zone disciples had once been insufferably arrogant, so self-assured — and now they had been frightened into this state. The shock of it was staggering.

But it was understandable. By now, the number of Forbidden Zone disciples who had died at Ye Fan’s hands had reached eight or nine if not more. How could they not fear him? Wangsheng and the Ruins Woman had just died — a bloody, fresh lesson. No one lacked fear, and even those who had openly declared they would sweep the Heavenly Court away were now quietly bowing their heads, going to ground, not daring to utter a single word of defiance.

In truth, Ye Fan’s attention was not on them at all. He was making his final preparations. To put it bluntly, the Forbidden Zone disciples no longer registered in his eyes.

Silence followed wherever he walked. All adversaries fled at the sight of him.

In the end, Ye Fan chose a stretch of dim, dark starry sky — an expanse of dead stars, without a single trace of life or any sign of a cultivator’s presence.

He sat cross-legged in the void. His entire body began to radiate light. From within him came thunderous sounds — blood boiling, rivers and seas roaring, deafening and earth-shaking.

A strange fluctuation spread outward, affecting the stars all around, causing every one of them to tremble — resonating, pulsing in harmony with Ye Fan’s breathing.

Ye Fan’s body was gaunt and withered, his hair white as snow, and he appeared very old. And yet at this moment, a surge of incomparably powerful vitality suddenly erupted — startling in its abruptness.

“Boom!”

His body nearly exploded. Blood and flesh became a blur. From the crown of his head, a crimson ribbon of light surged upward, and a great cauldron appeared above his head — from within it, a torrent of red radiance soared skyward, and in a single instant, it swallowed the entire sea of stars.

Within that cauldron was an endless ocean of crimson blood — vast as an ocean, its vitality staggering and overwhelming, shocking to ancient and present alike.

Ye Fan’s withered body cracked open again and again, and drop after drop of golden blood seeped out — more than that, he parted his lips and expelled a ribbon of golden light: golden blood, splashing and scattering in every direction.

He was expelling the golden blood from his body. Meanwhile, from the cauldron above his head, blood poured down like a waterfall — crimson blood descending without end, flooding into his body. The sight was horrifying.

Over all these years, there had been two primary reasons for Ye Fan’s aging. First: he had witnessed a fragment of the future, condensed it into a true scene within his mind, and over the span of a hundred years, had lived through it as though ten thousand years had truly passed — fighting in that ten-thousand-year battlefield, comprehending the Dao, and exhausting all of his mental and spiritual strength. Second: he had been tempering his crimson blood — continuously drawing it out from within his body, sealing it away, watched over by a divine entity within the cauldron, excavating and wringing the ultimate potential from himself.

And now, the seal within the cauldron was broken open. The essence blood returned, surging down like an ocean, flooding back into his flesh and blood.

Ye Fan’s flesh and blood nearly exploded. His bones fractured and reconstituted themselves. The golden blood was expelled entirely. Inside, only scarlet remained — and more critically, in this very moment, he began to transform.

The gaunt body began to radiate light. The old skin peeled away. Shattered bone fragments were pressed outward and expelled — a brutal transformation, a shedding of the entire self and its rebirth, utterly domineering, too harrowing to behold.

Ye Fan’s true blood returned, and the state of old age reversed in an instant.

White hair became ash and drifted downward. Flesh and blood bloomed with luster. White bones gleamed with luminous brilliance. A tall and powerful body was being sculpted, radiating flowing precious light.

Of course, alongside this transformation, the cosmos itself stirred. The stellar rivers exploded. High above the heavens, lightning blazed and crackled — and began pressing downward.

As his true blood returned to his body, the whole of him began to overflow with life, his physical nature undergoing a complete rebirth. The great tribulation was now imminent — and even its harbingers had already appeared.

The blood within the cauldron was boundless, amounting to an ocean, and every last drop of it poured into Ye Fan’s body, flowing into his four limbs and the ten thousand bones and sinews. His flesh blazed with light, radiant as a brilliant sun.

The fierce transformation continued. Bone fragments, old skin — all of it kept falling away. A transformation this violent was something extraordinary — most such changes were gradual, a slow progression. Who had ever seen one proceeding like blows of a blade and axe?

At last, the rebirth of blood and bone was complete. Ye Fan’s body shone with luminous, crystalline light — like a divine lamp of colored glass, dazzling and resplendent. His hair was deep black and densely thick, gleaming with radiant luster. His body was tall and powerfully built, filled with force.

And his eyes were deeper than ever — as unfathomable as the sea of stars.

In this moment, his aura could no longer be contained. Above the heavens, violent lightning blazed and flickered. The scene was too terrifying — the entire expanse of this cosmos was covered, all of it submerged.

The great tribulation had come.