This was certainly a sovereign of the Underworld — that aura could not be mistaken. Only one such as this could press upon the nine heavens with such might, even while bleeding black blood.

The spectral soldiers and spectral generals had long since dispersed, not daring to approach — cowering in fear, unable to endure the aura of two sovereigns, all of them terrified.

“Netherworld Emperor?!” Ye Fan demanded.

The other party was indeed a sovereign, but he had now reached that same level. He shouted directly, without the slightest fear — for he had come to put an end to this matter.

The nether-iron battle armor gleamed with dark light, though many places had cracked and were dripping black blood. The figure sat on the steps before the Prison-Suppressing Hall, leaning on his battle halberd. His pupils were like two blades, gazing over with cold and dim stillness.

Even his head was covered by a black nether-iron helm, leaving only his eyes and mouth visible — even his hair was hidden, his true face impossible to see.

“You have come too late,” he said — simple words, yet they conveyed a great deal.

From his cold and detached tone, and from the slightly unstable fluctuations that could be sensed from him, it was clear he had suffered grievous injuries. The implication was apparent: Chuanying was dead, and he himself was no longer at his peak.

Ye Fan stared at him. Through the half-open hall doors behind the figure, he glimpsed traces of blood and several shattered fragments of stone staff. These were Chuanying’s blood and weapons.

Even knowing he had come too late, that it had already become a settled matter, grief still rose in his heart. On the very day he had crossed his tribulation, the greatest divine general of the Ancient Celestial Court had vanished from this world.

“Then you shall accompany him in death.” Ye Fan said coldly.

He had no desire for empty words. One palm pressed forward — slow, yet carrying immense force. In that place, wind and thunder arose; divine beings and demons wailed. This casual strike alone caused heaven and earth to lose their luster and the sun and moon to go dark!

“Clang!”

The Netherworld Emperor raised his black battle halberd to block. Sparks scattered. He was sent flying, spitting a mouthful of blood, and crashed into the great hall behind him, collapsing a large portion of that ancient structure.

Powerful as the master of the Underworld was, he too had his blood splattered across that grand ancient hall — a sight that stunned all present. The spectral soldiers and generals in the distance all shuddered with fear, utterly despairing.

From another angle, it also spoke volumes about how terrifying the Netherworld Emperor was. Having already suffered severe injuries, yet beneath one world-overturning strike from a fully-completed Sacred Physique, he did not shatter — he still blocked the killing blow. His supreme combat power was undeniable.

“Truly, you have grown old!” Ye Fan said without mercy.

“Yes, I am old.” The Netherworld Emperor rose, black blood seeping from his mouth, leaning on his battle halberd. “Had you not come, my time would have been short regardless — I would have accompanied that Chuanying in death.”

Ye Fan was startled to hear this. He knew the greatest divine general of the Ancient Celestial Court was powerful, but he had not imagined him to be this extraordinarily defiant of heaven. No wonder he had been regarded with such exceptional esteem by the Emperor Venerable, who had sealed him with his own hands, saying that had Chuanying been born in a different age, he could have become an emperor.

At the same time, he sensed that something was deeply wrong with the Underworld. Was the Netherworld Emperor truly the only one here now? If so, this day he was more than capable of leveling this place — erasing the Underworld from the world forever!

Ye Fan’s expression was cold. He pressed forward. His footsteps echoed through the great hall. Imperial-path formation inscriptions covered this place, yet none of them could slow him even half a step.

“Will you not speak with me? I am merely a dying man — you do not need to kill me; I have little time left regardless.” The Netherworld Emperor laughed, blood draining from his mouth, his brow cracking open, black blood seeping through.

“Speak then. I will listen.” Ye Fan stood at the center of the vast hall, looking down upon this once-sovereign from on high.

The Netherworld Emperor was no ordinary man. He had no wish to be treated this way. He gave a cold snort, turned away, and walked slowly up to the highest throne, seating himself there with composure, looking down from above.

Ye Fan’s blood aura swirled, his vitality flourishing like an ocean. He was absolutely capable of slaying the heavily-wounded, near-death Netherworld Emperor — but he did not strike. He watched him with cold eyes, waiting for him to speak.

“I was a sovereign who once attained the Dao, and thereafter fell into the Underworld to study the methods of the undying.” The voice resounded from the throne, rolling and thunderous, commanding the submission of heaven and earth.

“I know.” Ye Fan said expressionlessly.

“What if I told you — I am not the Netherworld Emperor? Would you believe it?” From the icy throne, that imposing, inviolable figure spoke these words.

Ye Fan’s expression flickered. The other party was not the Netherworld Emperor — this news was indeed astonishing, beyond his expectations.

“In former years, the Netherworld Emperor allied with others and struck at the Emperor Venerable at the most critical moment. Was he killed then?” Ye Fan asked.

“No. Long before that moment, the Netherworld Emperor was already gone. I held his imperial-path weapons and took part in that battle in his stead.” The figure above spoke with a kind of desolation.

Evidently, that battle had struck him deeply. Several supreme masters of the imperial path had gone forth together, yet none had been able to slay the Emperor Venerable — instead they had allowed him to establish a majesty that would resound for ten thousand ages. For figures who had walked the imperial path, it had been a crushing blow.

Ye Fan pondered. Considering how Chuanying had held the Underworld at bay for a century, there were indeed many suspicious points. The Underworld, which had endured through the ages without decline, had hosted more than one sovereign — so how could it have been so weak, helpless even as someone stormed its gates?

“Nether Venerable — the so-called Netherworld Emperor — was of breathtaking genius, unlike almost any since antiquity. He was the first person to have been a supreme master of the imperial path in life and then, dying, to have returned to the Dao from his own corpse. His path cannot be replicated.”

Ye Fan had also heard some of these tales — especially from what the old god of the Ancient Celestial Court had spoken, saying the Netherworld Emperor was unfathomably deep, capable of crossing blows with the Emperor Venerable and contending with him as an equal, though in the end he was defeated.

“Ha. The true Netherworld Emperor would never have struck at the Emperor Venerable at such a moment, for their relationship was complex — at once teacher and friend.”

This figure of the imperial path disclosed a secret that was nothing short of earth-shattering, leaving even Ye Fan without words. Weighing it against the old god’s words, it seemed the Netherworld Emperor had once bestowed some kindness upon the Emperor Venerable — only later, after the incident of the murderous assault on the immortal road, did things appear more tangled and confused.

“At that time, the Netherworld Emperor had passed away many years before. I took up his imperial weapon and went forth in his name to wage war against the heavens.” He spoke with absolute calm.

“The Netherworld Emperor is dead?” Ye Fan’s gaze stirred, two streams of cold energy surging within.

“If he were dead, the Underworld would not have come to look like this.” The one above spoke as if to himself, disclosing certain astonishing secrets. He was near death — obviously because he had met someone of the same kind, or the same level, and wanted to speak of ancient secrets he had long kept buried in his heart, unwilling to carry them to his grave. As for those spectral soldiers and generals — to him, they were perhaps no more than ants, beings with whom a heavenly dragon dwelling in the clouds shared nothing in common and had nothing to say.

Ye Fan was stunned, hearing things like words out of a heavenly scripture.

At the end of the mythic age, the Netherworld Emperor had passed on — that should have been millions of years ago.

Yet more than a million years ago, a sovereign within the Underworld had sensed his aura, perceiving that he had revived — contradicting what was known about his passing.

“That alone cannot prove he is still alive now,” Ye Fan said.

“The Heaven-Connecting Nether Treasure — a supreme treasure connecting heaven and the nether world — flew away tens of thousands of years ago. Only if he re-emerged into the world could anyone summon it away from the Underworld.” The figure on the icy throne spoke.

Ye Fan knew this divine artifact. When the Beginningless Great Emperor had intended to assault the Underworld, it was this secret treasure that had concealed it, causing the vast nether earth to disappear from the cosmos entirely.

He also now understood why, no matter how Chuanying had attacked, or how he himself had now stormed in — the Underworld, clearly weakened, had still not concealed itself. Because the Heaven-Connecting Nether Treasure had been lost.

The Underworld was in decline — it was finished!

When Ye Fan arrived at this conclusion, he was truly dumbfounded. This, after all, had been the one great force that had truly endured through all ages without decay — an organization capable of standing alongside the Ancient Celestial Court, terrifying beyond measure.

“At the end of reincarnation, all things shall come to a close — the Underworld is the final home of all living things……”

These words still echoed in his ears. No matter what, Ye Fan could not have believed the Underworld was finished.

In all the years since, spectral soldiers had borrowed paths through various star fields, haunting them in search of ancient divine remains from high antiquity. This had only made the Underworld appear ever more terrifying and flourishing — unstoppable in its might. How had it come to this?

“Because the Netherworld Emperor is returning. He will reclaim everything that belongs to him.” The figure on the icy throne spoke, without any shift of emotion.

That single sentence said it all. The present sovereigns of the Underworld feared the Netherworld Emperor’s return — they feared he would call them to account.

From this, Ye Fan drew one more conclusion: the Netherworld Emperor’s power was absolutely, boundlessly terrifying. His combat strength was likely far greater than even Ye Fan had imagined — otherwise, none of this would have come about.

“I am the Prison-Suppressing Emperor — once an ancient venerable of former times.” At last, the figure above disclosed his own origins. As for the title he had held before becoming the Prison-Suppressing Emperor, he did not say.

Ye Fan’s heart surged, unable to settle. The rulers of the Underworld had origins of staggering magnitude — perhaps in the mythic age, some among them had been celestial venerables.

“Yama died within the Underworld and naturally passed into nirvana. The Longevity Celestial Venerable entered the Immortal Tomb and never returned. Another, when the Heaven-Connecting Nether Treasure flew away, grew uneasy in his heart and entered the Primordial Ancient Mine. At present, the Underworld has only one figure of the imperial path — myself.” He laid out the facts.

If these tidings were ever to spread to the mortal world, they would surely shake it to the core — the revelation too tremendous to bear. The Underworld had long since undergone tremendous change internally, completely unknown to the outside world.

For all these thousands of years, the Underworld had been active, searching through various star worlds. In truth, it had been searching for the Heaven-Connecting Nether Treasure, seeking to locate the Netherworld Emperor and strike him down before he could fully awaken.

The Prison-Suppressing Emperor had believed: while the Netherworld Emperor was still in transformation, striking him down before his awakening was possible.

But alas — so many years had passed. The Underworld had sent out vast armies, suffered heavy losses, and still gained nothing.

Thus the Underworld had emptied. The Longevity Celestial Venerable refused to return. Yama was dead. Another had entered the Primordial Ancient Mine. Now only he remained.

The Prison-Suppressing Emperor said: “The Netherworld Emperor is of extraordinary genius — he inspires great dread in the hearts of all. I know, sooner or later he will return. He has always been forging a path in pursuit of eternal life, walking the boundary between death and life. No one has ever gone further than him down that road.”

Ye Fan’s heart surged like waves crashing against the sky, unable to find calm.

After a long while, he felt a sudden urge to laugh — a laugh that arose from somewhere deep and inexplicable. “The Underworld — a vast and powerful forbidden realm, born in the boundlessness of ages past. And now it is coming to its end. Is it the Netherworld Emperor, or is it I, who will bring it to its close?”

It felt unreal. The pressure the Underworld had exerted on people had been immense — by this day, it had long since been embedded deep in the hearts of all powerful beings. This outcome now left Ye Fan feeling absurd.

“You are wrong. As long as the Netherworld Emperor lives, the Underworld endures. It will never end through all eternity — this is merely a momentary decline.” The Prison-Suppressing Emperor said.

“‘The Underworld is the final home of all living things’…… These words are somewhat laughable. Was it you who spread them?” Ye Fan asked coldly.

“It was what the Netherworld Emperor said. And evidence was found to support it.” The Prison-Suppressing Emperor spoke. He swayed and stood, coughing up several mouthfuls of blood — clearly he could barely hold on any longer.

He walked out of the Prison-Suppressing Hall, gazing at the vast nether earth. With a light slash of the battle halberd in his hand, the earth immediately cracked open. “Look at what lies beneath,” he said.

The crack he opened was immense, cutting through many of the craters made by the fallen stars — yet relative to the boundless and limitless nether earth, it still amounted to nothing.

Without looking closely, Ye Fan already knew there were many ancient remains beneath the earth, ancient to a terrifying degree.

“Tell me — if the living things on one star, or two, or ten, or a hundred all perished — could they produce the terrifying spectacle before us?” the Prison-Suppressing Emperor asked.

A peculiar dynamic — the two sides were clearly adversaries, yet now they engaged in earnest discussion. The reason was no more than this: both were sovereigns, and beings of this level were far too rare.

A chill settled in Ye Fan’s heart. How had this vast nether earth come to form? He had pondered this before, and the deeper he thought, the more unsettling it became.

“The entirety of the cosmos has been buried here, across not just one era but many — this is reincarnation!” the Prison-Suppressing Emperor declared.

“‘At the end of reincarnation, all things shall come to a close — the Underworld is the final home of all living things……'” Ye Fan murmured. He had heard these words before, but never felt their weight — until this moment, when he felt how terrifying they truly were.