Corpses lay scattered across the mountain ridges one after another, blood dyeing the grass red. Those who had reached the eighth transformation of the Dragon Metamorphosis Realm numbered more than one or two — all slain by Ji Haoyue’s hand. Forest floors were blanketed with the dead, blood mist drifting thick across the land, and even powerful spirit beasts dared not approach this place where life had been extinguished en masse.
This result left Ye Fan genuinely startled in his heart. The Ji Family’s Divine King Physique truly lived up to its legendary reputation, far more powerful and fearsome than it had been a few years ago — yet Ji Haoyue had finally spent his strength. Having killed so many, he was now a spent arrow with nothing left.
At this moment, though only a dozen or so people remained, every single one of them was exceedingly difficult to deal with, each possessing secret arts or ancient treasures. Even pushing himself to the limit, the Ji Family’s Divine King Physique could no longer hold on.
“Swarm him — kill them both!” These people acted in unison. Even recognizing Ye Fan’s extraordinary nature, there was no possibility of abandoning their goal at this juncture.
Thud!
Ye Fan moved in with heavy force right from the start. He spun upward, sweeping his right leg in a horizontal arc. The massive bronze bell that had descended from above rang out with a resonant clang as his kick shattered it apart.
Bell waves spread outward like blades in all directions, carving away thirty feet of earth across the entire stretch of ground. A cliff face not far away crumbled into rubble, and a mountaintop on the other side was sliced clean off.
One could well imagine how terrifying this bell truly was — its waves struck like divine swords, breaking through every obstacle in their path — yet Ye Fan had kicked it to pieces with a single blow, leaving all present stunned with shock.
Crash, crack, clatter!
Fragments fell in a shower, sparkling with crystalline radiance — clearly forged from divine iron — yet they shattered against Ye Fan’s physical body as though they were nothing, unable to withstand a single blow, scattering into cliff faces, into thickets, into the tumbled stones.
“Kill him first!”
Those present sensed that something was very wrong. Abandoning Ji Haoyue and his sister, they turned their combined assault on Ye Fan, concentrating every ounce of their power to eliminate him first and deny him any opportunity to act.
Thud!
But Ye Fan’s speed was too swift. Even as they spoke those words, he had already surged forward, locking onto the owner of the great bell. His massive palm swept downward.
Everyone saw only a spray of blood blossoming outward, a shower of shattered bone raining down. The fight was over before it had truly begun. The bell had been destroyed, and its owner hadn’t even had time to gather his wits before Ye Fan, propelled by the Movement Rune Art, had closed the distance and snuffed out his life.
“Kill!” The others roared, eyes flushed crimson. Having come to this point, not one of them was willing to fail so close to the end.
Swish!
A streak of divine light flashed. Someone shook an ancient mirror, summoning a terrifying ray of brilliant luminescence, hoping to blast Ye Fan down from the sky. Ye Fan responded with nothing but cold, continuous laughter, moving back and forth with unceasing momentum.
Yet what stunned everyone was that Ye Fan made no attempt to dodge. He simply swung his fist and smashed straight into it.
Clang!
The divine light collided with his fist, but rather than reducing him to a pool of bloody pulp as everyone had imagined, it produced the sound of metal and stone shattering.
Clang! Clang!
Ye Fan’s body blurred like a phantom, charging through the divine light, closing the distance with extreme speed. With each swing of his fist he sent the mirror’s radiance scattering, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye he had pressed right up close.
“Get clear — fall back now!”
The others shouted. By this point they had all recognized the truth: Ye Fan acted with complete impunity, utterly unafraid of the ancient mirror’s assault, fighting in sweeping, unrestrained strokes, closing from range to close quarters in a single rush.
The mirror-wielder’s speed was by no means slow, but measured against Ye Fan it amounted to nothing whatsoever. The others deployed every ancient treasure they possessed to intervene, yet not one could keep pace.
Crack!
With what was effectively a single punch, Ye Fan punched clean through the ancient mirror. Without breaking his momentum he surged forward, driving through the man’s chest in the same motion, shattering his divine soul and ending his life in an instant.
“What manner of man is this?!”
Those at the rear drew sharp, hissing breaths. This style of close-quarters combat — a sacred art in its own right — was enough to chill the blood. Truly nothing could withstand it. Even powerful magical treasures proved useless, shattered in a single strike.
At the rear, Ji Haoyue — his divine power withering, on the verge of collapse — his expression also grew solemn. A luminous glow flickered in his eyes as he fixed his gaze upon Ye Fan’s striking hands.
“How incredibly powerful…” Ji Ziyue’s large eyes curved into crescent moons. The tension drained from her body, and crystalline teardrops glistened against the smooth, ivory-white skin of her cheeks.
“Who are you exactly, and why are you sticking your nose into other people’s business?!”
This group felt thoroughly unmoored. They were powerful — more than a few among them had reached the eighth Dragon Metamorphosis transformation — yet they had burned through so much divine power. They were slightly better off than Ji Haoyue, but they were in no condition for a grueling, all-out battle.
This man who had appeared from nowhere moved through close-quarters combat as if walking through empty space. Every single one of them drew a sharp, cold breath, a sense of deep unease welling up inside them.
“Don’t get close — summon your treasures and kill him from range!”
“Use the Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow — shoot him down!”
The group grew vicious, swiftly drawing up a formation. Several powerful cultivators stepped forward together, jointly gripping a bow of deep emerald green. Only by exerting their full combined strength could they draw it to a full moon.
In that instant, the vital energy of all ten directions surged toward them like a tide. This bow was unlike any other — it seemed possessed of a soul, as though a divine spirit dwelled within it, autonomously absorbing the essence of sun and moon.
It trembled with a faint vibration, unleashing ten thousand feet of radiant light that made the entire mountain range shudder. Along the bowstring a streak of divine luminescence materialized, taking the form of an arrow shaft, poised to be loosed.
Ye Fan’s heart lurched inwardly. This was undeniably a heavy-grade weapon at the Sacred Master level — no trivial thing at all. He could feel the enormous threat it posed even from where he stood. And gazing at the terrible, gaping wound on Ji Haoyue’s body, he had little doubt this bow was responsible.
“Kill!”
“The Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow is drawn — let all beneath heaven be slain!”
Those people bellowed, their voices like rolling thunder. Ten thousand trees shed their leaves at once, and a killing chill descended over everything.
Ye Fan had no intention of standing there as a living target. His wide sleeves billowed as he flashed forward in nine successive steps along an unpredictable, enigmatic trajectory, pressing directly toward the bow-bearers. From his fingertips, divine radiance suddenly blazed outward, striking forward in a precise strike.
Whoosh!
The string of the Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow thrummed. The arrow of light surged forth like a divine being come to life, releasing a fearsome shriek, its brilliance illuminating the heavens and earth as it hurtled straight for Ye Fan’s skull.
“Die — this is the consequence of meddling in others’ affairs!”
Plainly they had every confidence in this single shot, certain it would inflict grievous damage on Ye Fan. Cold sneers spread across every face, and each of them simultaneously deployed their own magical treasures, driving them forward in a coordinated assault aimed at obliterating his very soul.
Ye Fan shifted and repositioned himself, dodging continuously — yet he discovered that a faint thread of killing intent had already locked onto him. No matter how he moved, that streak of divine luminescence never ceased its pursuit.
“The Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow — so long as one’s power is sufficient, nothing in all creation can escape being brought down. I simply don’t believe you can evade it!” the bow’s bearers taunted, brimming with confidence.
Nevertheless they dared not grow careless. Every ancient treasure they possessed had been deployed, determined not to give Ye Fan even the smallest opening, all of it working in concert with the Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow to eliminate the enemy.
Flash! Flash!
Ye Fan’s body had grown indistinct, an insubstantial phantom darting east and west, swift as ghost and spirit both, utterly unlike anything achievable by a creature of flesh and blood.
“Why is his speed so impossibly fast?!”
Everyone was struck with astonishment. Even the arrow of light could barely keep up with him, trailing just behind, and the various ancient treasures struck nothing but empty air, failing to harm even a single hair on his body.
Ye Fan, for his part, furrowed his brow. Without the Movement Rune Art, the arrow of light would have overtaken him long ago, and there would have been no way to escape it. But continuing to merely evade was not a solution either.
Clang!
He came to a sudden halt. Divine luminescence erupted from between his fingertips, colliding head-on with the arrow of light and producing a dazzling explosion of radiance so blinding that many people instinctively shut their eyes.
“You’re seeking death!”
“Daring to clash head-on with the Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow — you don’t know what you’re asking for!”
Those people all wore expressions of icy contempt, fully expecting to watch Ye Fan’s bones shatter, his hands torn to ruin. Yet their cold sneers quickly froze in place.
Ye Fan’s fingers had not crumbled. They remained perfectly intact. He murmured to himself: “What formidable power — truly, I was careless. It drew blood from my physical body.”
At the tip of his finger, a single drop of brilliant blood rolled downward — yet it had not penetrated to anything vital. It was nothing more than one drop of blood.
He spoke as though mildly astonished. But those around him were shaken to their cores. The great Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow had achieved only this much?
“What — it barely broke the skin?!”
“The Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow — capable of wounding even a Sacred Master — is he some ancient primordial king? How can he have shed only a single drop of blood?!”
Every one of them stood frozen in disbelief, and then a creeping chill spread through them all. What manner of physical body was this?
Not far away, Ji Haoyue too was momentarily taken aback — but he didn’t allow it to delay him. He closed his eyes, his entire body blazing with light, rapidly healing his injuries in an effort to restore his combat strength.
Ji Ziyue stared in wide-eyed astonishment, her little canine teeth gleaming with crystalline brilliance. She wiped the tears clean from her face, her large eyes — black and bright as precious gems — spinning and darting about without cease.
“Is he that barbarian?!” In an instant, this group of people thought of the wild man from the residence of the extraordinary cultivators — the one who had shattered a great expert’s striking fingers with his bare hands.
“Never mind all that — pour every last ounce of divine power into the bow and draw it to a full moon! Unleash volley after volley and bring him down!” The others shouted, several more stepping forward to grip the Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow together and haul back on the string as one.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
These people had gone nearly frantic, pushing themselves to the absolute limit, driving the Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow in concert — far more terrifying than before, like a sun descending upon this very place, trails of immortal light stretching to ten thousand lengths.
Arrow after arrow of light was loosed. Each shaft crossed the sky like a blazing comet, dazzling and magnificent, as the heaven’s vital energy surged like a swelling tide, pouring in frenzy into the Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow.
Ye Fan too transformed into a streak of light, driving the Movement Rune Art to its utmost, weaving between the terrifying arrows of light as he closed the distance at blinding speed. When evasion truly proved impossible, he simply swung his fist and smashed straight through.
Clang! Crash!
The sound rang like immortal swords singing in unison, setting souls and spirits trembling with agitation. Amid the terrifying collision, sparks flew in every direction, and the earth was shaved down by several feet under the force of the light-waves, the scene utterly horrifying.
“This is…” Those people went cold. Ye Fan possessed unsurpassed speed, and a matchless physical body — he was by his very nature their natural counter. Not even the Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow could achieve its effect.
Clang!
Ye Fan finally closed to within striking range. His right hand shifted, forming a profound and arcane hand seal. In that instant his bearing surged upward dramatically — like a great sovereign emperor ruling over all beneath heaven, inspiring in everyone present an involuntary urge to bow their heads in reverence.
The moment the hand seal took shape, the vital energy of Ye Fan’s spirit and essence soared to a height that inspired awe. An incomparable might radiated outward — one that looked down upon all beneath heaven from a position of absolute supremacy, as though a Human King had descended into the world, acknowledging no equal under heaven.
The Human King’s Seal!
Ye Fan deployed it for the very first time. This ancient technique was profound and unfathomable beyond measure, carrying within it the power to swallow mountains and rivers whole. A casual raising of the hand seemed capable of obliterating mountain ranges and rivers, of annihilating ten thousand clans.
This was the Human King’s Seal. The sheer presence it exuded alone was enough to make people tremble, enough to make them want to prostrate themselves in worship — as though they truly stood in the presence of the supreme Human King himself.
Clang!
The Ten-Thousand-Bane Bow was sent flying in a single stroke. And the several people behind the bow — without a single exception — were reduced to pulverized flesh at that very instant, their bodies and souls obliterated together.
“The Human King’s Seal — thought lost for so long?!” At that moment, the Ji Family’s Divine King Physique released a cry of astonishment for the very first time.
“Run!”
The remaining people all changed color. One man bellowed the command, and the others all retreated in flight. More than a few among them had reached the eighth Dragon Metamorphosis transformation, yet their divine power was now nearly exhausted — they were in no condition to fight whatsoever.
Ye Fan descended from above, bursting into their midst with sudden, lethal force. His physical body and his speed were both devastating, and within this space sealed off by the grand formation, he held an absolute advantage that left them no choice.
Thud!
The Human King’s Seal unleashed — sweeping all before it with invincible force — and another person was pounded into a mist of blood, leaving nothing behind. The power was world-shaking.
Ye Fan held the Human King’s Seal aloft, striding through the void. With each step he planted, the entire span of heaven and earth shuddered — his might overwhelming to the mind and spirit, as though the sovereign lord of all humanity walked in procession.
Thud! Thud!
Each blow he struck set mountains and rivers trembling. No matter how great the distance, so long as he had an enemy in his sights, their physical form would inevitably be shattered and broken.
“Ahh…” These people cried out in terror. They no longer felt as though they were facing a man — they were facing a god.
Thud!
“Ahh…” Screams of agony rang out without cease. Anyone who was struck was ground to powder without any suspense whatsoever, not a shred of doubt remaining.
The Human King’s Seal — a world-shaking sacred art of terrifying power. Ye Fan seemed to have transformed into the sovereign king of all humanity, striding through this world of ten thousand feet of crimson dust, looking down upon all living beings.