The vast universe. The boundless star-filled sky. Many scientists have speculated that Earth may be the sole origin of life.

Over the past several decades, humanity had engaged in endless conjecture, launching numerous space probes into the sky in search of extraterrestrial life. Yet the deep, unfathomable cosmos resembled a desolate graveyard — cold and silent, eternally frozen in darkness, with no trace of any life signal to be detected.

The universe was simply too immense — without end. The space probes launched by humanity’s current level of technology, even if they could break free from a galaxy’s gravitational pull and travel without pause for millions or tens of millions of years, could not reach the far shore of the stars. The distance was simply too great.

Perhaps today, however, the history of humanity’s exploration of the stars could be rewritten. Human beings had come to the far shore of the star-filled sky, crossing a distance of dozens or even hundreds of light-years, completing the most extreme journey in human history.

Only this would never be known to the people of Earth. No one would believe it. No one would cheer. No one would celebrate.

Nine enormous Dragon Corpses pulled the Ancient Bronze Coffin to the far shore of the stars, crossing into the stellar region where the Big Dipper resided!

It was at exactly this moment that Ye Fan came back to his senses. His palm left that coffin-within-a-coffin covered in green patina. Several hundred ancient characters were engraved in his heart — abstruse, difficult to comprehend, profound beyond measure — as though they could never be erased. Only then did the wondrous divine sound completely vanish.

The Great Dao is simplest; sparing with its words. All things ended — like grandeur stripped bare, returning to unadorned truth.

Ye Fan stood in a daze, murmuring to himself: “The way of heaven reduces what is excessive and supplements what is deficient…”

“Ye Fan, are you alright?” Pang Bo asked with concern.

“I’m fine.”

Throughout this process, the great bronze coffin had continued to shake violently. Everyone felt the world spinning and turning. They all knew that the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin had finally been nearing its end point.

At that moment, the primordial bronze carvings on the coffin walls blazed with divine radiance, propping up a hazy curtain of light that absorbed an unimaginable force of impact. The great coffin slowly grew stable.

In one final thunderous shudder, the lid of the bronze sarcophagus shifted from its position and slid heavily to one side. The copper coffin toppled over on its side.

“Light!”

“I can see light!”

“The familiar world of light!”

Many people inside the great bronze coffin could not help crying out. Before them was no longer the dimness of that ominous ancient star, no longer a desolate landscape drenched in crimson. Fresh air rushed toward them, carrying even the scent of soil and the fragrance of flowers and grass. The aura of nature filled the surroundings — outside was a luminous world brimming with life.

Everyone stood up and rushed out of the great coffin. What lay before their eyes was breathtaking in its beauty.

At that moment, they were standing at the summit of a mountain — neither too tall nor too short — from which they could gaze at the scenery ahead.

In the distance, beautiful mountain peaks rose and fell in succession, lush with fine trees. Near the summit were strangely shaped rocks and vigorous ancient trees, with old vines thick as barrels coiling like serpentine dragons, alongside soft green grass and fragrant wildflowers, all brimming with vitality and life.

Compared to the dimness and dead stillness of Mars, this was undoubtedly a tranquil and pristine land.

“Wonderful — we’ve finally escaped the darkness and desolation and arrived at this beautiful, sacred land.”

“We no longer have to live in fear and terror!”

Many people cheered. Some even wept tears of joy. After a series of deaths and ordeals, they had at last arrived in a living, natural world.

“Kissing the sunlight, telling myself — live on and live well…” Even the sharp-witted and alluringly beautiful Lin Jia was moved to such an extent.

Pang Bo stood at the mountain summit and bellowed toward the distance: “I’ve finally seen the sun again! Though it’s no longer the one I knew before, I’ll still shout with all I have — I have been born anew!”

“Clang!”

Suddenly, the great bronze coffin behind everyone emitted a metallic ring, instantly setting everyone’s nerves on edge. They all turned at once to look.

The nine massive Dragon Corpses had more than half their bodies hanging over the cliff below, and the copper coffin was not far from the precipice either. At that moment, the nine Dragon Corpses — like walls of iron and steel — were slowly sliding down over the cliff’s edge, dragging the copper coffin along with them as it slowly began to glide forward.

“Rumble, rumble, rumble!”

The nine enormous Dragon Corpses and that Ancient Bronze Coffin ground and rumbled as they slid along the mountain summit, ultimately speeding up before plunging down the sheer and vertical cliff face!

Everyone broke out in a cold sweat. The edge of the summit was a sheer and precipitous cliff — if the coffin lid hadn’t opened just when it did and they hadn’t rushed out quickly enough, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

After the nine massive Dragon Corpses and the Ancient Bronze Coffin plunged off the cliff, no sound of impact came for a very long time. This left everyone staring at each other in bewilderment and shock.

Now, without the great bronze coffin blocking their view, they could clearly see the scene on this side of the cliff.

“Could it be that we’re standing at the top of a colossal volcanic crater?” Many people showed expressions of alarm.

For what lay beneath the so-called sheer cliffs was a bottomless pit of unfathomable depth.

“It isn’t a volcanic crater — no volcano could be this wide.”

Looking carefully, one could see that nine great mountains were connected to one another, encircling and forming an unimaginably vast deep valley. By all logic, this should have been an open mountain valley that one could see to the bottom of at a glance — for the nine mountains were not particularly towering.

Yet looking downward, all was black and hollow, without end — as though it bored straight through to the Yellow Springs of the underworld, its depth utterly unfathomable.

The abyss formed by the nine encircling mountains seemed without limit. After the nine enormous Dragon Corpses and the Ancient Bronze Coffin plunged in, no sound of impact ever came — as though they could never reach the bottom.

“Just how deep could it be — it truly defies imagination!”

“What kind of place is this? How could there be such a vast abyss…”

The group was filled with uncertainty and unease, a vague sense telling them this world was not as tranquil and peaceful as it appeared on the surface.

After observing the surroundings, Ye Fan said, “Have you noticed? There’s no Five-Colored Sacrificial Altar here. It’s as though we fell straight out of the sky and landed here, rather than emerging from within a star gate.”

Hearing him say this, everyone started. Only then did they notice that there was indeed no Five-Colored Sacrificial Altar. And yet the broad mountain summit bore no sign of having been crushed and collapsed by the copper coffin — there wasn’t even a massive crater, only a few great cracks splitting the rock.

If they had truly fallen from the sky and crashed here, the force of impact would have been unimaginable. Yet the mountain showed no trace of catastrophic damage, and the whole affair gave off a strange and inexplicable air.

“There’s no Five-Colored Sacrificial Altar — so why did we appear here? Could this be what legends call a cosmic stranding — running aground in place?” The joke was not the least bit funny. Not a single person showed a trace of a smile. Everyone swept their gazes across the surroundings, then sank into thought.

“There’s half a stone stele over there…” Just then, Zhang Ziling suddenly called out.

Atop the mountain was a jumbled pile of rocks, along with several vigorous ancient trees, accompanied by a few old vines as thick as barrels, their tendrils twisting and winding. Nestled within those coiling vines lay a broken stone stele that had snapped in half — the marks of human craftsmanship clearly visible.

The group quickly walked over, pulled away the dried vines, and brushed off the withered branches and leaves from the fractured stele. At once they were struck by an air of profound antiquity. Three ancient characters were carved upon it — their strokes bold and deeply settled, vigorous as a dragon, flowing with the breath of ages. How many years it had stood there, no one could say.

“What does it say?” Many of them could not read the characters.

Ye Fan studied them for a long while, still somewhat uncertain, and said, “It seems to be the three characters ‘Primordial Forbidden.'”

“Primordial Forbidden — what does that mean? It doesn’t make sense as it is.” No one could figure out the meaning.

“This is a fractured stele — there should be more characters below. But the stele body has broken to pieces and there’s no way to restore it.” Pang Bo pulled away the vines and uprooted the weeds, and there he found a great many stone fragments, as though struck and shattered by a bolt of lightning.

“Those three ancient characters should be the name of this abyss or this mountain range.” Zhou Yi wore a contemplative expression, then said: “But characters and words that connect with ‘Forbidden’ are actually not very many. The most likely continuation is a character meaning ‘ground’ or ‘land.'”

“Strung together, wouldn’t that make ‘Primordial Forbidden Land’?” A classmate connected the four characters and read them aloud — and the moment they did, their expression changed. The others also frowned.

This name made it extremely difficult to conjure up any pleasant associations. Many people quietly began to feel apprehensive.

“This area near the abyss is almost certainly not any kind of pure land or sacred ground…” someone said.

Far from a pure land or sacred ground — if what the inscription recorded was accurate, this was likely no auspicious place at all.

“Have you noticed — there don’t seem to be any birds or beasts nearby. It’s far too quiet!” Wang Ziwen, relatively observant, had sensed something was off.

“Indeed!” Everyone nodded.

There were flowers, grass, vines, and trees here. On the surface it appeared to be teeming with life. But upon careful observation, something was deeply wrong: there were no animals anywhere. On this sprawling mountain, not a single bird call or animal cry could be heard — not a trace of insect or ant activity. It was quiet to the point of near death.

There was no cicada song in the ancient trees. No grasshoppers in the grass. No birds in the sky. Only silence.

Pang Bo was extremely optimistic: “Whatever the case may be, there’s lush vegetation here, and this kind of environment is more than enough to keep us alive. Besides, there’s an inscription here — there must be humans on this planet. I refuse to believe that such a beautiful world could be a desolate place of death.”

“Who says there are no animals? Who says there are no flying birds in the sky? Look over there…” At that moment, Ye Fan made a new discovery, pointing toward the distant horizon.

Far off in the sky, what appeared to be an eagle was circling — extraordinarily unusual, for its entire body was a blazing gold. Even at such a great distance, one could still sense its dazzling brilliance, as though cast from pure gold, golden light shining from head to tail.

The golden eagle then flew a distance closer toward their area, becoming ever more distinct — before suddenly diving down into a stretch of mountain terrain below. A moment later it shot back skyward, a prey already clutched in its talons, and soared off toward a distant cliff face.

“I… I’m not seeing things, am I?!” Seeing this sight, the usually carefree and easygoing Pang Bo began to stammer on the spot.

The others were nearly petrified as well, standing stock-still as though molded from clay or wood, staring blankly — hardly daring to believe their own eyes.

“I get the feeling… the golden eagle’s talons… are gripping what appears to be a massive elephant?” Li Changqing also stuttered, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Not ‘what appears to be’ — that’s exactly what it is!” Wang Ziwen picked up his words: “Being able to carry off a massive elephant — that’s beyond belief. Just imagine how enormous that golden eagle must be…” He could not help but gasp at the thought.

It was obvious that everyone had misjudged the situation. The distance had been too vast, and they had miscalculated its size. What they had seen must be a supremely enormous and extraordinary great predatory bird.

Ye Fan gazed into the distant sky and said: “There cannot be a hawk this immense. It is golden all over, radiating golden brilliance, its form incomparably vast — it strongly resembles the Golden-Winged Great Roc of mythological legend!”

Upon hearing these words, everyone present was once more turned to stone.