“Ha ha ha ha…”
From each of the snowy peaks, everyone burst into laughter — some mocking, some filled with hatred, some barely concealing their killing intent, each expression different from the last.
A cultivator of merely the Four Extremities Secret Realm — how could he possibly battle so many people at once? Among them were some of the most formidable figures of the elder generation. They considered this nothing short of a joke.
“You want to kill us all? Are you dreaming?!”
They had no intention of giving Ye Fan even a sliver of a chance. This time, thirteen Holy Son-level figures had gathered together, and several Supreme Elders had been invited as well — all of this for the sole purpose of ending him.
“Where is Yiyi?” Ye Fan asked calmly.
“Ye Fan, you still want to save someone? You can’t even save yourself, and you’re still thinking about others — don’t you find that laughable?!” The Dao-Yi Holy Son, Li Donglai, sneered coldly.
“Bring the person out,” someone said from the shadows.
In the distance, atop one of the snowy peaks, Liu Yiyi appeared — her frame slender and frail, her bare feet stained with blood, her clothes tattered and wretched, a pitiful sight.
“You truly have magnanimous hearts, don’t you — stooping to lay hands on such a helpless young woman?!” Ye Fan’s killing intent grew even more intense.
Among the crowd, a number of Holy Sons stiffened at his words. They belonged to the same hastily formed organization, and none of them knew the identities of the others.
“The Saint-Slaying Alliance…” Ye Fan murmured to himself — he now understood how they had all come together.
“Ye Fan…” Liu Yiyi called out to him from the distance, her voice hollow and weary, her face haggard. “Don’t worry about me — run. I never called for help; they imitated my voice!”
Ye Fan smiled — it was like a ray of dawn breaking through the overcast sky. “Don’t worry. Whether the call was real or fake, I came here to save you. Nothing will happen.”
“Really? Nothing will happen?” The Dayan Holy Son, Xiang Yifei, gave a light laugh. “If I were to lop off her beautiful head right here in front of everyone, would you not feel agony and regret?”
“I know you won’t do that,” Ye Fan replied. “What you truly want is to see me bleed atop this mountain, to let as many people as possible — including Yiyi — witness my miserable end. Isn’t that right?”
“Do you even know who we are?” the Dao-Yi Holy Son, Li Donglai, asked with a mocking tone.
“Does it matter whether I know or not?” Ye Fan said evenly, sweeping his gaze across everyone. “Release Yiyi. I fulfilled my promise and came here — surely you’re not going to fail to uphold even that much?”
“Of course. No problem at all. You’ve come, and that’s more than enough. She’s nothing but an insignificant person anyway,” someone said without concern.
“Unacceptable — he must kneel before us and beg!” The Wanchu Holy Maiden Zhao Yanran’s voice was cold and brimming with hatred.
The Wanchu Sacred Ground had not only lost its Holy Son — even the Sacred Master had perished. She wished she could cut Ye Fan down on the spot.
“Enough talk — kill him!” From behind the Wanchu Holy Maiden, a Supreme Elder spoke up. He was the first to move, flying forward like a phantom.
The moment he moved, everyone surged forward — no one wanted to fall behind, for Ye Fan carried a supreme treasure upon him: the Source Root of the Mother Qi of All Things.
Clang!
Without warning and without a sound, a crack split open in the void beside Ye Fan, and a divine light shot out, aimed directly at his head.
Pfft!
Ye Fan shattered the divine light with a single blow. He then reversed his hand, forming the seal of a blade with his fingers, and plunged it into the void — cleaving a black-robed figure in two. Blood cascaded down like a violent rainstorm.
Throughout all of this, he remained perfectly composed. “If you want to kill me, come at me openly. Why skulk in the shadows like that?”
The crowd pressed in rapidly from all sides, encircling him. Killing intent came from every direction; blades and swords gleamed, and treasured artifacts of every sect hovered in the void.
“Is there not a single one of you willing to face me in single combat? Do you all fear me that much?” Ye Fan taunted.
“I have long wanted to test just how powerful you are. Everyone, hold off on killing him for now — let me first gauge his true strength!” It was Jin Chixiao, heir of the Northern Plains Golden Clan, who spoke.
He was indeed a powerful individual. The last time they had met, a divine figure he had conjured entered a killing formation and demonstrated combat power at the Holy Son level — just how terrifying his true cultivation was remained hard to say.
“Let me go first!” the Dao-Yi Holy Son Li Donglai shouted, and he was the first to strike — having advanced to the Dragon Transformation First Change, his confidence was immense.
Boom!
Before him, a great golden ship materialized — using the void as its ocean and the essence of heaven and earth as its source, it emanated ten thousand feet of radiance and came surging forward.
“The Void-Piercing Divine Vessel!” someone exclaimed in astonishment.
The golden warship passed through the void and vanished in the blink of an eye, yet its terrifying aura swelled wildly across heaven and earth, as though some malevolent spirit from the depths of an abyss were about to emerge.
There was no way to tell from which direction it would reappear, nor what manner of power it would unleash — danger lurked unseen in the darkness.
Boom!
A single thunderous strike rang out, like the celestial drums of the immortal realm sounding in the mortal world, deafening to the ears. The golden warship appeared abruptly before Ye Fan and came bearing down upon him.
Indeed — like a great golden millstone, it rumbled on without cease, its pressure causing the surrounding terrain to shake with thunderous noise. Even this ancient ground, where sacred spirits had once perished and mysterious forces imposed their restraints, trembled lightly as though an earthquake had struck, reverberating like thunder.
Boom!
Facing this warship, Ye Fan did not deploy any other sacred art. He had only one answer — a single fist hurled skyward!
A golden fist, like a divine mountain, drove a single blow through the void and struck heavily against the ship’s underside, sending ten thousand feet of radiance erupting outward.
Crack!
A spine-chilling sound rang out as a fracture appeared along the bottom of the golden warship, slowly spreading outward.
“What?!”
“How is this possible?”
Everyone was utterly shocked. This was a weapon woven through with fragments of the Great Dao — though not yet perfected, it was as though the Dao itself had descended into the world.
Clang!
Ye Fan’s second fist struck out — no elaborate technique, only an iron fist that crushed all before it, slamming into the warship and stopping its crushing advance cold.
Crack!
This time the sound was even greater. A clear, gaping fissure appeared, the hull swaying, light spilling in all directions like ripples spreading across the snowy mountains.
“This is bad!” The Dao-Yi Holy Son Li Donglai, having advanced to the Dragon Transformation First Change, had been supremely confident — but he had not wanted a fight to the death with Ye Fan. He had only intended to probe him, and now he found his precious treasure on the verge of destruction.
Hum!
The golden warship attempted to break away and no longer bear down on Ye Fan — but it was already too late.
Ye Fan’s black hair flew wildly as his third fist descended. The force sent golden light quaking outward with bone-chilling power.
Clang!
The golden warship was punched through and exploded in the void with a thunderous boom, fragments scattering in all directions, falling toward the four corners.
Comparable to a Sacred Master-level weapon — yet he had shattered it with his bare fists. Everyone’s hearts went cold, including the Supreme Elders. If it ever came to close combat, none of them would fare well against the sheer strength of his physical body — this they all knew and feared.
The Dao-Yi Holy Son Li Donglai suffered the backlash from having recently obtained this secret treasure — one he had intended to spend his life cultivating alongside, his divine sense having sunk deep into it. He coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Ye Fan laughed aloud. “Is that all you’ve got? Who else wants to try? If no one’s up to it, come at me together!”
Clang!
The Dayan Holy Son drew a jade sword soul and spat out a stream of innate vital energy. With a soft hum, the sword soul vanished.
In the heavens above, three streams of innate divine light descended. Three sword souls took shape and transformed into supreme sword embryos, each resonating with a different Great Dao.
“Sovereign Slayer Sword — cleave!” Xiang Yifei roared.
Ring!
The first sword embryo became a streak of azure light that split the heavens and earth, cutting across the sky like eternal divine radiance.
Pfft!
Ye Fan stood unmoving and spat out a stream of innate vital energy to meet it.
Everyone was astonished. The foundational power of the Sacred Body was so overwhelmingly immense it was nearly impossible to believe — the innate vital energy he expelled swept through the void like a great golden river, drowning everything in sight.
Golden sacred light surged and roiled, staining every inch of space with a blinding brilliance. This was the innate foundational vital energy of the Sacred Body — vast as an ocean.
Without any suspense, the so-called Sovereign Slayer Sword shattered with a crack in the void, reduced to powder, the sword embryo turned to smoke and burned to ash.
“Heaven-Earth Sword — vast and primordial, destroyer of all things!” the Dayan Holy Son Xiang Yifei bellowed. The remaining two sword souls transformed into divine light and came hacking downward.
Pfft!
Under Ye Fan’s innate vital energy, both sword embryos shattered completely — they never even came close to striking him before they were obliterated.
“Is that all there is? Is there anyone else?!” Ye Fan laughed loudly, sweeping his gaze over the thirteen Holy Son-level figures, regarding them with contempt.
Although the thirteen Holy Sons did not know one another’s identities — their true appearances concealed by treasured artifacts — they could not help but feel their faces burn with shame.
To be challenged by a single person while being thirteen — this was something utterly inconceivable. They were all heaven’s chosen, and no one had ever dared address them in such a manner.
“If that’s how it is, come at me all together. I’ll send every last one of you on your way!” Ye Fan faced all thirteen Holy Sons without a trace of fear, unmoved and utterly unrestrained.
Everyone pressed forward, killing intent washing over the scene.
“Kneel down before us like a dog!” the Wanchu Holy Maiden Zhao Yanran snarled through gritted teeth.
Though she was a woman, and a beautiful one at that, her viciousness was undeniable — her gaze cold and dark, her hatred of Ye Fan absolute, her killing intent without limit.
“Women like you can only mob me in a group,” Ye Fan said, crooking a finger at her. “If you come at me one at a time, I’ll kill them one at a time — two at a time, I’ll kill them in pairs. If you don’t believe me, I’ll kill you with a single finger. Dare you come forward?”
“What arrogance!”
Beside her, Jin Chixiao finally made his move. He shook his five organs simultaneously, producing a celestial resonance, and sent five divine lights surging outward.
Swish, swish, swish…
In the void, five divine figures materialized, embodying the five elements. Then earth, fire, wind, and water cycled together, opening up a small world born from the myriad heavens.
“Remarkable — his comprehension of space has reached this level!” Even the elders of the older generation were shaken, every one of them astonished.
“Break!”
Ye Fan did not dodge. He strode forward to meet it, taking the initiative, both hands moving as he manifested his own Dao.
Not a sacred art — yet it shook the heavens and moved the earth. It was force brought to its absolute extreme, most perfectly suited to his physical body. His entire being transformed into a single beam of divine light.
“One force shatters all methods!”
No technique at all — raw force obliterating everything. Simple. Ordinary. One force cleaving through heaven itself! His whole body had become a weapon, destroying everything in its path.
Crack!
The small world brought forth by the five elements shattered in an instant and vanished into the void.
Jin Chixiao fell back, not pressing on with a fight to the death, surprise spreading across his face.
The Wanchu Holy Maiden struck from the side — Shattered Dreams Like Smoke — sending a brilliant swirl of mist and rain rolling in.
Boom!
In response, the Chaotic Azure Lotus appeared beside Ye Fan as endless misty tendrils quivered together, turning everything into illusory flowers in a dream, all of it vanishing without a trace.
The Holy Sons took turns stepping forward one by one, each testing the depth of his strength, each displaying a supreme technique.
Yet no matter how many of the thirteen prodigies assailed him, none could break through. Ye Fan repelled them one after another, and some were left coughing up blood.
“Come at me all together!” Ye Fan laughed again.
“Kill him!”
At last, they charged in together — even the elder generation figures were ready to act, unwilling to give him any further opportunity.
Pfft!
“Ahh…”
A cry of agony rang out and blood rained down. In that brief instant, Ye Fan struck without mercy — the All Secret activated, the Walking Word Art unleashed, and he plunged into the crowd.
One Holy Son was shattered by his bare hands on the spot, reduced to pulp, dead before he could react.
At the same time, one of the Wanchu Holy Maiden’s arms was torn away, blood spraying through the air.
“You…” The Wanchu Holy Maiden nearly fainted, stumbling back into the crowd, her face drained of all color, caught between shock and fury.
“Alright then,” an elder spoke up. “You’ve all had your chance to probe him. Now it’s time to kill him.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Ye Fan replied with a cold sneer, facing everyone down with a chilling smile on his face.