The group flew at low altitude, advancing deeper into this vast territory.

Less than a hundred or so li out, they began to spot stone pillars here and there—some of immense girth. No one knew how many years they had stood, yet they remained upright on the earth.

Occasionally, they also glimpsed the remains of enormous foundations. Each of those stones was several meters long, with the base stretching thick and broad in a manner that was truly astonishing.

“What ruins are these? If they were once buildings, they must have been on a colossal scale. Could this be where giants lived?” Someone exclaimed in surprise.

“Look at this—there are designs carved on this stone pillar. Strange creatures, truly grotesque. More hideous than anything from a nightmare.”

“Why are you speaking carelessly again?!” Old Knife Handle grew agitated, eyes fixed on that young man.

“Is that really off-limits to say?!” The young man was starting to get genuinely irritated.

“You need to understand where you are. The Primordial Ancient Mine is more incomprehensible than you can imagine!” Old Knife Handle said sharply. “Five years ago, I witnessed with my own eyes how thirty-odd cultivators died in front of these ruins. Their blood was shed at the Primordial.”

“What happened?” The others were shaken.

“I don’t know. I only saw it from a distance—those people were desiccated. Their blood shot upward into the sky while their bodies were reduced to flying ash.” Old Knife Handle seemed to have lingering terror at the memory.

“Let’s keep going. Continue forward.” The others were growing uncomfortable.

Old Knife Handle gave a loud, cold snort. He moved far away from that young man, avoiding him like a viper or scorpion, refusing to walk alongside him.

Ye Fan noticed and followed along close behind Old Knife Handle, putting distance between himself and that fellow as well. Better to believe it and be safe than dismiss it and be sorry.

The group traveled several hundred more li. They were now less than a hundred li from the so-called borderlands. Old Knife Handle slowed down and said: “I suggest you all go no further. Simply rise up high into the sky here and use your spiritual abilities to observe from there.”

“Aren’t we still a hundred-odd li away? We’re still within the safe range—why stop now?”

“Old man, let’s go a few dozen more li. There’s nothing to see from here.”

“Very well.” Old Knife Handle agreed.

They advanced another fifty li. They were approaching the borderlands of the Primordial Beginning, and he absolutely refused to go any further.

“A few more dozen li won’t be a problem. I’d also like to dig up a few pieces of stone material from the borderlands of the Primordial Ancient Mine—who knows, maybe if luck is with us, we’ll make quite a find.”

“What did you say?!” Old Knife Handle’s eyes went wide and his hair and beard bristled, like a lion rearing up.

“We’ve come all this way—don’t you all want to bring back some stone material? If something can be cut out of it, the rewards would be endless.” The young man spoke.

“You…” Old Knife Handle said nothing. He turned and walked away.

“Don’t go, old man—we still need you to guide us.” The others tried to stop him.

“He is going to get everyone killed.” Old Knife Handle’s complexion had darkened beyond all measure.

“I’m just speaking my mind. You’ve been excessively cautious, Old Knife Handle.” The young man had been bottling up his frustration for some time, and he could no longer hold it back.

Without anyone noticing when it had begun, a great wind had risen. Dust and sand filled the sky. The sound of the wind came from far away.

“How did the wind pick up? The sun was still shining bright not a moment ago.”

“It’s just a bit of wind. We’re cultivators—are we worried about a gust of wind?”

“Could you please shut your mouth?!” Old Knife Handle glared furiously at the young man, his expression grave as he looked toward what lay ahead.

Red dust filled the sky, like a thin veil of pale blood-mist, approaching from a distance, sweeping down over everyone.

Wuuuuu…

The sound of the wind was terrifying—like wailing ghosts, dust and sand swirling into a storm, growing greater by the moment.

“Black cyclones!” Old Knife Handle’s face turned ghastly.

In the distant sky, vast shadows came rushing closer, spiraling in vortices, like dark clouds pressing down from all sides, coming from every direction at once.

The red sand was overwhelmed and covered by the black cyclones, turned dark in color. Shadows lay everywhere.

“What kind of cursed wind is this, coming from all four directions at once?!” The group was stunned. Every one of them was uneasy.

Wuuuuu…

The black cyclones swept through, carrying the sky full of sand. In the blink of an eye they were upon them. The earth was plunged into pitch darkness. The cyclones had color—they carved great spinning vortices as they moved.

“Ahh…”

A scream rang out. The young man who had been constantly at odds with Old Knife Handle—his body was as though cut open by a blade. He left a great pool of blood on the ground, shredded to pieces within the black cyclones.

Ye Fan’s eyes went instantly sharp. Among those black cyclones, he sensed a terrifying presence. He reached out with his divine sense to observe—but saw nothing at all.

The center of every black cyclone was a pitch-black void, as though it could swallow everything.

“Ahh…”

Another person was shredded by the black wind. They only had time to let out a single scream.

By now, even Ye Fan felt a chill. He had not expected that coming to the outer perimeter of the Primordial Forbidden Zone would be so dangerous—that lives could be forfeited at any moment.

At this point, preserving his life was what mattered most. He deployed the cauldron forged from the Primordial Mother Qi and took shelter inside it, then used the Divine Lihuo Furnace to draw the cauldron in as well.

Clang, clang, clang…

The black cyclones came sweeping in—like swords slashing through, striking the Divine Lihuo Furnace and sending heaven-shaking sound reverberating outward.

Dazzling radiance erupted. The bronze furnace gleamed brilliantly, and the image of the sun carved upon it shone out with vigorous life and light.

Phoenix cries shook the heavens. Several indistinct divine birds circled the furnace in flight as roaring flames ignited, and a sky-reaching inferno blazed up.

The black cyclones roared and howled, sweeping through. Several more people were torn to shreds, dissolving into wisps of mist.

Clang… Clang…

Heaven-shaking sound rang out. Ye Fan felt as though an enormous hand were striking the bronze furnace with tremendous force. Even inside the cauldron, he could feel the terrifying power of those blows.

“These are truly just black cyclones? How can they carry this kind of force?”

He was deeply unsettled, yet dared not take the risk of emerging. He could only shelter inside while the clanging and crashing echoed deafeningly from without.

In a daze, Ye Fan seemed to hear a heavy, labored sound of breathing—and the sound of an immense body taking slow, great steps. The earth seemed to tremble gently beneath them.

“Are these truly black cyclones, or is there some living creature moving through them?”

No one could say how much time passed. At last, the sound of the wind outside ceased. Heaven and earth returned to silence. No particular sound could be heard any longer.

Ye Fan put away the cauldron forged from the Primordial Mother Qi—he didn’t want anyone to see it. It would invite enormous trouble.

Then he flew out from the Divine Lihuo Furnace and landed on the ground.

To his deep surprise, the bronze furnace was undamaged. Though it was covered in dents and depressions, it was slowly restoring itself—it seemed it would return to its original state before long.

“There is something peculiar about this weapon…”

Ye Fan knew this was certainly not the true Solar Divine Furnace. A supreme Dao weapon could suppress and kill even a great master—it was incomparably more terrifying than this, and could not possibly be dented.

“Swish!”

A flash of light, and the Divine Lihuo Furnace restored itself—displaying an indestructible capacity that left him deeply astonished.

What ordinary weapon would exhibit such extraordinary behavior? He found it very difficult to determine what class this bronze furnace truly belonged to.

The furnace shrank to one inch tall, like a five-colored crystal, appearing in his palm. Ye Fan did not put it away—he held it in his open hand as a defense, ready to deploy it at any moment.

Before him, the landscape had completely changed. He had been carried by the black wind to he knew not where—scattered stones lay in disorder, red sand blanketing everything.

Not far away, a figure stood motionless. Old Knife Handle was silently chewing his pipe, brow deeply furrowed.

Beyond that, seven more people lay unconscious on the ground, neither killed nor shredded by the black cyclones.

“What happened here? Where are we?” Ye Fan asked.

He scanned the distance. The surroundings were open and vast, entirely silent—a blood-colored great plain, scattered sparsely with a few large boulders.

“We have, I fear, entered the Primordial Ancient Mine.” Old Knife Handle exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke.

“That can’t be possible!” Ye Fan was alarmed.

“Don’t worry—we have not fallen into the divine mine itself.” Old Knife Handle’s wrinkled face was drawn tight, and he walked back and forth several steps. “They say the forbidden zone where the Primordial Ancient Mine sits covers several hundred li in all directions—some say several thousand. We are most likely within the forbidden zone.”

“How could this happen…” Ye Fan furrowed his brow.

The seven people lying unconscious on the ground gradually revived, their faces deathly pale, all overcome with boundless terror.

“Even the great masters of the sacred grounds enter here and are buried in the red earth—what hope do we have?!” One of those who had just come to was filled with despair.

“They walked toward the Primordial Ancient Mine itself—naturally they never returned. As I said, this territory is vast. We have not entered the central region. Perhaps there is still a way to survive.” Old Knife Handle gazed toward the distant horizon.

“Really?”

“The odds are slim, but there is some hope. Something like this has happened before. Some people have walked out alive.”

“What were those black cyclones?” Ye Fan asked.

“I don’t know either.” Old Knife Handle shook his head. “This forbidden zone occasionally generates certain unusual winds. The black cyclones are already among the milder ones.”

Nine people set off. Old Knife Handle, trusting his instincts, fixed upon a direction and took the lead.

“Old man, you must find the way back correctly—if we mistakenly walk into the Primordial Ancient Mine, we will truly be calling to the heavens and the earth and receiving no answer in return…” One survivor said, trembling.

Old Knife Handle said nothing. He simply led the way.

Though they were not truly standing at the entrance of the Primordial Ancient Mine, they still dared not fly. All manner of legends surrounded this divine mine—it was said that no bird could cross above it, and that anyone who leaped into the air would have their body and spirit utterly annihilated.

They walked out ten-odd li and a great ravine stretched across their path—winding away for several li in length.

Ye Fan furrowed his brow, observed it carefully, and felt a cold chill rise up his spine.

He had not expected to truly encounter this kind of topography—exactly as described in the Source Heaven Book.

“Don’t go near it!” He saw a cultivator cautiously leaning toward the edge of the ravine, wanting to peer in. He tried to stop him, but it was already too late.

The cultivator standing at the rim of the ravine—in the space of a single instant, every drop of blood in his body was desiccated. He became a beam of red light that vanished into the ravine, while his body was reduced to flying ash.

“How can this be?!” The others were horror-struck, falling back in all directions, every trace of color draining from their faces.

That person had only taken a few more steps than the rest—and was ash in an instant. Witnessing it with their own eyes made every scalp crawl.

Even Old Knife Handle changed expression. He had sensed the danger in advance, but had not anticipated anything this horrifying. This was practically a demon ground.

A continuous chill rose up Ye Fan’s spine. This forbidden zone was too terrifying—it far exceeded anything he had imagined.

They were still distant from the divine mine, had not entered the central region, and already they had encountered this legendary topography. He could not help breaking out in goosebumps.

This enormous ravine was vast and weathered. Looking carefully, it was shaped like a dragon lying in wait—extraordinarily lifelike, almost indistinguishable from the real thing.

It was as though a true dragon had slumbered here at some point in the past, pressing down on the earth and forming this great fissure.

The Source Heaven Book contained a record of this: it was a place of supreme ill omen—the legendary Fire Dragon’s Burial Ground, a place where dragons were interred.

Ye Fan had studied those passages carefully but still wasn’t certain whether it referred to a true dragon being buried here, or simply a dragon vein. He had not yet fully understood them—the ancient writing was too abstruse.

According to the Source Heaven Book, within the Fire Dragon’s Burial Ground there must be divine source—an absolute treasure among source stones without equal. Yet it also carried a grave warning: upon encountering the Fire Dragon’s Burial Ground, avoid it and go around. Unless absolutely forced, never dig it open—for doing so would bring down catastrophic disaster without fail.

“The Primordial Ancient Mine—what kind of place is it truly?!” Ye Fan’s heart could not be stilled. A towering storm surge rose within him. They were still outside, and already they had witnessed topography like this. Truly, the mountains and terrain surrounding that ancient mine were impossible to imagine.

“We go around. Do not approach the great ravine.” He gave the warning solemnly.

“Agreed. I feel that nothing could go in there and come out alive—no matter how powerful.” Old Knife Handle nodded with grave expression, expressing his agreement.

All eight people agreed to go around by way of the dragon’s head. They walked several more li and finally arrived at the head. It was indeed vivid and lifelike—truly like a dragon corpse lying beneath the earth.

“This place…” Old Knife Handle frowned. His innate sense of things made his heart pound with alarm.

“Bad news—fall back. Leave here quickly!” Ye Fan felt every hair on his body stand on end.

Before the dragon’s head was a very small lake—barely ten-odd zhang across, a deep, vivid crimson. A blood-red pool of water that made the heart seize.

Even an ordinary person would be startled by the sight. In the desolate forbidden zone where not a blade of grass grew, there should be no water at all. How could such a lake possibly exist?

And falling upon it through Ye Fan’s eyes, it was all the more extraordinary. A chill ran through his entire body. The Fire Dragon’s Burial Ground was terrifying enough already—if this blood lake was added to it, then this was a great omen of catastrophe within catastrophe.

According to the Source Heaven Book’s records, this was the “Dragon’s Bleeding”—a phenomenon rarely seen across the ages, where blood-divine source was buried. It was almost impossible to obtain, and contact with it meant certain death.

The Fire Dragon’s Burial Ground combined with the Dragon’s Bleeding—these two topographical features together, if disturbed, would mean doom even for a supreme divine king of the Eastern Desolate.