The Yin-Yang Holy Son spat great mouthfuls of blood, a large foot planted on his chest, nearly splitting his body apart. What humiliation was this — the very moment battle joined, he’d been stomped from the sky into the ground by a single foot.
His gaze was cold and sinister, but not a word could he manage. He knew his position as Holy Son was finished, and most likely his life was not far behind. Though he hated Ye Fan with a desire to flay him alive, all he could do was hold that thought within himself, gritting his teeth.
“Stop!”
Of the eighteen Holy Son-caliber figures who had come, several cried out, each of them deploying treasures toward Ye Fan in attack. One of them shook a purple jade bell, releasing a purple phoenix that came diving down to kill.
Ye Fan extended two fingers like a blade and jabbed at the sky. With a light sound, the purple phoenix was reduced to flying ash. He then struck in rapid succession — eight magical treasures all shattered, dissolving into eight streams of light that vanished into the air.
Without a sound, a tall figure came flying in from the distant mountain range, extending a great hand that came chopping straight down.
Boom!
Laws interwove, Dao power surged. A hand that blotted out the sky loomed over the area beneath — crack crack crack — eight mountain cliffs in succession all collapsed.
The great hand was pitch black as ink, like a dark cloud covering the heavens, enveloping Ye Fan beneath it. The earth below sank more than a dozen zhang, pressed down by sheer force, transformed into a deep valley.
Rumble rumble…
Rocks shot through the air. All eighteen outstanding young paragons retreated at the first opportunity, terrified of being swept up — a great master had made their move.
Ye Fan lifted the Yin-Yang Holy Son and leapt three thousand zhang, then crossed another five thousand meters — flickering out in several instants to appear in the distant sky, where he caught sight of a blue-robed old man: precisely one of the Yin-Yang Cult’s supreme figures.
“Release him.” The great master spoke calmly, standing atop a mountain peak as a clear wind blew past, their long robe billowing.
He had known the Holy Son would take part in this operation — he had personally given his approval — hoping to use this to draw out Ye Fan. What he had never imagined was that in a single exchange, the prodigy from the Eastern Desolation had stomped the Holy Son into the ground. Just one encounter.
For the Yin-Yang Cult, this was a humiliation. The Holy Son was the hope of the future, yet before Ye Fan he was utterly defenseless — one kick and he was half-dead. This was equivalent to someone slapping their face.
“You say release him and I should release him?” Ye Fan held his captive upside down, dangling him head-below-feet, exactly as though he were gripping a dead fish.
“You…”
“This is…”
“Ye Fan, killing people is enough — you’re going too far!”
From all directions, figures appeared one after another. Seeing this scene, all of them changed color. The Holy Son represented a certain dignity and face for the Yin-Yang Cult — being held like a person dangling a chicken or a duck was a merciless mockery and contempt toward the sect.
“Release him. Otherwise, our cult will one day draw out your three immortal souls and seven earthly spirits, eternally sealing you within the sea abyss for a thousand years of refinement!”
“Ye Who Covers the Heavens — do not push things to the absolute extreme!”
Hearing these words, Ye Fan laughed out loud. “You pursue and kill me across the whole world, and you still have the face to say these things? Worth saying? Worth following?”
“Recognizing your worth as a Sacred Physique — a rarity across a thousand generations — I have no desire to snuff out a rare genius.” The supreme figure of the Yin-Yang Cult walked slowly forward. “Submit to our cult, we spare your life. Become a Yang Devotee — all past grudges will be dissolved.”
“A Yang Devotee… you mean to enslave me?” Ye Fan’s face broke into a smile right then and there. The cult’s Yin Devotees and Yang Devotees were nothing but emotionless killing machines, enslaved and driven by others. Even now, the opposing side looked down on him from above, saying these things — they truly had not regarded him as worth even a vegetable.
“Release the Holy Son. Otherwise, you know — the disciple of the Divine Calculator has emerged. They can divine everything under heaven, trace you anywhere you flee. There is simply no path of survival for you.”
“The disciple of the Divine Calculator — I will go find them.” Ye Fan backed away.
“Release the Holy Son. We guarantee your physical body and divine will shall both survive unharmed — become the cult’s protecting Yang Devotee.” A crowd of people pressed in from all directions, appearing atop every mountain peak.
“Being made into your cult’s Yang Devotee is supposed to be a blessing?” Ye Fan raised the Yin-Yang Cult’s Holy Son high, then flung him forcefully outward, toward them.
Someone reached out to catch him — but the Yin-Yang Holy Son let out a great cry. Midway through the air he split apart in four directions and five directions, burning with roaring flames, then became flying ash.
Right before their eyes, Ye Fan killed the Yin-Yang Holy Son, then turned and rushed toward the open sky.
“Pursue!”
A Supreme Elder bellowed in rage, fury beyond containment. Another Holy Son had been killed — and both times by the same hand. Without even thinking, one knew this would become a laughingstock spread across every major sect.
Too humiliating. The former and latter Holy Sons had both been killed by Ye Fan. Was there anything more damaging to their dignity than this? Nothing like this had occurred in nearly a hundred years.
“Ha ha…” Ye Fan laughed loudly. “I look forward to when you select your third Holy Son!”
“Pursue — do not let him escape!” a half-step great master commanded. In ordinary times, which junior would have dared speak to them like this? And yet today this little demon had done nothing but provoke them repeatedly.
“No need to pursue. Within a thousand li in every direction a supreme formation has been laid. This time he has no wings to fly with.” The Yin-Yang Cult’s blue-robed old man spoke.
Ye Fan flew toward the distant sky and saw only grey haze at the horizon, endless mist swirling. Yin and Yang energies intertwined, sealing off all four directions.
“Formation patterns have been etched into the mountains and rivers!”
His heart lurched. These were no ordinary formation patterns — if they were, it would not be possible to encompass a radius of several hundred li like this.
“Ye Who Covers the Heavens!”
Not far away, someone shouted. The eighteen elite experts from the Oddity Scholar Manor appeared nearby, and one of them bellowed, drawing everyone forward in a charge.
When he was dealing with the Yin-Yang Holy Son, Ye Fan hadn’t paid careful attention, but now he finally noticed — there was a prodigy-level figure among them, wearing loose wide robes that concealed a small and slight body.
This was a child of eight or nine years of age, pale and tender-skinned, with bright and perceptive eyes. Standing among those young adults, he looked strangely out of place — far too young.
This was the youngest prodigy of the Oddity Scholar Manor — not yet nine years old, yet already having reached the Dragon Transformation Secret Realm. When he first entered the Manor, he had startled a whole crowd of elders from the older generation.
“You want to come kill me as well?” Ye Fan smiled.
“Don’t laugh!” The nine-year-old boy’s face went cold.
“Quite a temper you have.” Ye Fan laughed freely.
“I said don’t laugh. If you laugh again, I will suppress you!” The nine-year-old boy was extraordinarily haughty, extending a finger to point at Ye Fan.
“Little brat — go home and nurse at your mother’s breast. I have no time to coddle children.” Ye Fan’s mouth was a little venomous.
Nearby, the other seventeen couldn’t help nearly bursting into laughter — but all of them held it in. They knew this child’s background was frightening, and they did not dare offend him.
“Sacred Physique, you dare show disrespect toward me — come here and prostrate yourself in apology. I will spare your life!” The nine-year-old boy, Wang Chong, roared, standing atop a boulder with his head held high.
Ye Fan had never in his life encountered a child this imperious. He was momentarily stunned. This young boy was even more arrogant than the Golden-winged Little Peng King, more brazen than Xia Jiuyou.
“Little brat, your family has truly spoiled you rotten. Today I’ll discipline you in their place — I’ll paddle your backside until it splits into sixteen pieces.”
“Ye Who Covers the Heavens, you are finished. You’ve angered me — there is not a soul in this world who can save you!” The boy Wang Chong spoke in a cold voice, his expressionless face a mismatch with his age.
He leapt a hundred zhang, shooting up into the high heavens. The others, seeing him about to make his move, all scattered to the sides — each harboring a measure of wariness.
Wang Chong formed a dragon seal with both hands. Like a true dragon, he actually produced a dragon’s cry that reverberated through the nine heavens. Nine azure dragons materialized in full — swaying their heads, coiling their tails, ferocious and wild — and they dove toward Ye Fan.
Crack! Crack!
Ye Fan struck out nine palms. Every palm unleashed ten thousand zhang of golden light, golden blood aura surging like an ancient volcano erupting, causing all the onlookers to change color.
Yet the nine golden great handprints in the void did not scatter the nine dragons. The azure dragon scales flickered, the dragon bodies full of force — like walls of iron and steel — coiling down.
Whoosh…
A sharp wind hit his face. Nine azure dragons were powerful and vigorous, leaping a thousand or several hundred zhang at a time. Some extended their claws to tear open cliff faces; some opened gaping maws to swallow an entire mountain summit; others lashed with dragon tails, and with a thunderclap flattened an entire mountain range.
Ye Fan was astonished. Contending with the nine azure dragons, he had not anticipated this nine-year-old boy would be this formidable — far above an ordinary Holy Son by a great margin.
At such an age, this child had reached the fourth transformation of the Dragon Transformation Realm, yet was far more powerful than peers of the same level by many times over — absolutely capable of killing those at the ninth transformation of the Dragon Transformation Realm.
Ye Fan marveled. No wonder he was called a prodigy — just how old was he? This was heaven-granted talent, surpassing those geniuses by so far there was no comparison.
Roar…
Dragon cries rang through the blue sky. Nine dragons had flesh and blood, their auras vigorous and mighty — a single claw shattered a mountain peak, making all the onlookers suck in sharp breaths.
Spit!
The azure dragons exhaled. A swath of blue light descended, and four or five mountain ridges vanished, scorched and blackened, reduced to barren wasteland.
Slap!
Ye Fan’s golden great hand struck the void, shattering one azure dragon — but even as blood poured from its wound, it rejoined its severed body and dove down again.
The other eight azure dragons roared and flattened a stretch of mountains below, all of them plunging down to kill — nine dragons in battle, swallowing the sky and splitting the earth.
“Do you think being a Sacred Physique makes you invincible throughout the world?! I, your young master, was born to slay Royal Physiques and Sacred Physiques like you!” The nine-year-old boy Wang Chong bellowed, incomparably domineering. Both hands formed dragon seals as he drove the nine dragons in great battle.
“This prodigy is truly terrifying — just nine years old. If he grows up, who in the world could restrain him?” One of the Holy Son-caliber figures nearby murmured softly.
“He’s a person of enormous fortune. As a young child he fell into a dragon’s cave and obtained extraordinary benefits. Some say he swallowed dragon blood, others say he consumed great quantities of dragon marrow.”
“A great master from the Oddity Scholar Manor once studied his constitution and said he could live at minimum over five thousand years — that’s the most conservative estimate. Heaven knows what kind of immortal treasure trove he obtained when he fell into that dragon’s cave.”
“Still, at this age, this temperament of his is rather excessive.”
“What can you do — he’s achieved greatness young, and then there’s that brother of his. Every young person flees at the mention of him. Who would dare provoke Wang Chong?”
“Ye Fan, Ye Who Covers the Heavens — I don’t care if you’re a Sacred Physique or an Immortal Physique. Today you die. I will slaughter you nine times!” Wang Chong shouted.
Whoosh… The sharp wind grew even more violent. Nine azure dragons turned their vigorous dragon bodies — like nine mountain ridges — and simultaneously dove down.
Nine Dragons Devouring the Emperor!
Wang Chong formed a dragon seal with his hands, an expression of cold indifference on his face. He drove his nine dragons in battle, pressing down on Ye Fan, attempting to grind him to pieces.
“This is one of the holy killer techniques within the Dragon Seal — Nine Dragons Devouring the Emperor — it can kill across several cultivation levels!” Those in the back drew sharp breaths, every face changing color.
“He truly is a person of extraordinary fortune — falling into the dragon’s cave, the benefits he gained were immense!” Everyone was filled with envy beyond measure.
“Brat, I have no time to play with you!” Ye Fan suddenly leapt up, charging directly into the nine dragons.
Spit!
He seized one azure dragon, then with a fierce pull and a single motion snapped it clean in two — blood showering down like rain. Simple and direct, utterly brutal.
“You have great fortune — you fell into a dragon’s cave. Today, let me relieve you of everything you have!” Ye Fan said coldly.
Spit!
This time he seized three azure dragons at once. With a loud roar, both hands shook with force — a spray of bloody light, and several dragons were ripped into nine sections each.
“You…” Wang Chong was shocked and furious. He formed his dragon seal, putting all his strength into the technique. The nine dragons swallowed the sky, reappearing anew.
“Did you truly obtain an immortal treasure trove from the dragon’s cave? Quite remarkable — allow me to collect it for you.” Ye Fan had stopped treating him as a child. He struck without mercy, his right hand transforming into a golden celestial monument that came pressing down.
Bang!
The golden celestial monument crashed into Wang Chong’s back, driving him into a heap of rubble.
“It’s over — the Sacred Physique is finished this time. He struck Wang Chong. That older brother of his will definitely emerge now. They say he’s the reincarnation of an ancient emperor — who could possibly stand against him?!”