At dawn, the rosy morning glow burst forth, and West Dam City was bathed in golden splendor. The dark walls were rimmed with bands of gold, lending them a sacred quality.
Ye Fan came to a small restaurant, ordered a bowl of tofu pudding and a basket of small buns, sat down and ate while watching the people passing to and fro along the ancient street.
The sun had just risen, its morning glow soft and warm against the skin — no clamor, no battle cries, no dazzling magical treasures, and no blood. There was only tranquility and simplicity.
For years, Ye Fan’s life had moved at an unrelenting pace — he had lived through countless life-and-death struggles, grown accustomed to the sight of blades severing heads and blood staining the sky, hovering constantly on the edge of life and death. In this moment, he felt profound peace.
For an ordinary person, this was merely a routine morning — one might even grumble that the glow was a bit too bright. But to Ye Fan it was a luxury: the brilliant morning light, the warm rising sun, the clean porcelain bowl, the smooth and lustrous tofu pudding, and the passersby moving along the street — all of it felt plain and real and alive.
“Cultivators are a group of beings who are no longer quite human — unable to feel the beauty of the mortal world. Life becomes too dry.” Ye Fan sighed softly.
At this hour, many cultivators would be seated at cliff faces in remote mountains or before ancient caves, drawing in breath and releasing it, far removed from the world — and many more would be locked in solitary seclusion year-round, never seeing the sun or moon.
Ordinary people envied those who could fly and vanish into the earth, yet had no idea how many years of accumulation that required — a person enduring dull tedium in silence, cultivating alone without certainty of success.
Ye Fan intended to enter seclusion soon. He planned to use that bottle of dragon marrow to assault the Fourth Transformation of the Dragon Transformation. These days he was letting his mind rest and taking in the mortal world, so that when the time came he could attempt the breakthrough and survive the tribulation in a single stroke.
Suddenly the street trembled. The blue stone slabs on the ground shivered lightly as a dozen or more exotic beasts charged through the city gate — each one extraordinarily magnificent. Some resembled auspicious qilin beasts with purple light flowing across them; others were like dragon colts with blazing fire burning over their entire bodies.
They charged through, sending the entire ancient street shuddering with a deep rumbling, before entering the city’s largest inn.
Soon after, more people came riding clouds from the sky, descending from above — and not just one or two groups. Arrivals continued one after another, entering West Dam City.
This was one of the ten great ancient cities of the Central Continent, with many powerful cultivators living here in seclusion and many more passing through constantly. The common people were long accustomed to the sight and did not panic.
“The grand auction held every two months is about to begin. This time it is being held at the Precious Pavilion of the Nine Li Divine Dynasty, and many people have been traveling through the night to get here.”
“Who knows what divine objects will appear this time — quite a few emperor-tier figures will likely come.”
From a nearby table came the sound of quiet discussion. West Dam City held a grand gathering every two months, organized in turn by the various auction houses — drawing Saint-Master-level figures regularly.
The serenity of dawn was broken. Figures descended from the sky in a steady stream, and those already in the city speculated that this time there must be something out of the ordinary among the items — otherwise why would so many people be drawn here?
Hoofbeats thundered, carrying the sound of wind and thunder, as six or seven riders charged through the city gate like beams of flowing light at tremendous speed. Their mounts were all exotic breeds — some had wings sprouting from their flanks, glowing brightly; others were covered in scales with enormous hooves.
Every beast treaded upon the void, half a foot above the ground, feet never touching the earth — yet they struck out sounds like wind and thunder, louder than if they had been galloping over stone, each one incomparably magnificent.
At the head of the group was a golden divine beast resembling a xiezhi and a purple qilin. Golden divine flame and purple celestial fire blazed together, lending an awesome and imposing bearing to the two riders atop them.
“Those are heroes from the Hall of Exceptional Talents joining in the excitement too — heirs from the Five Great Domains, future leaders of their respective sects. Their presence here will only be more frequent.”
With the Hall of Exceptional Talents open for the first time in ten thousand years, this city was bound to grow even more prosperous. These individuals would never lack for source — most were future leaders of their respective teachings.
Ye Fan narrowed his eyes. He recognized one of the riders — the rider atop the golden divine beast wore golden battle armor, tall and robust, with tiger-like eyes radiating brilliance, black hair cascading loose.
Jin Chixiao — heir to the Golden Clan of the Northern Domain, with the blood of an ancient king flowing in his veins.
Ye Fan had not expected to encounter this person here. The last time had been at the Fire Devil Ridge in the Eastern Wastelands — the place where the sacred spirit had fallen — when thirteen holy son-level figures had surrounded and attacked him, and this person had been among them.
“I called down the heavenly tribulation and killed a group of them. The Dayan Holy Son escaped at the time but was later killed by me as well. I didn’t expect this one was another fish that slipped through the net.”
He had participated in the scheme to kill him — Ye Fan naturally had no warmth for this person. Had they not been in West Dam City, he would certainly have made a move already.
The six or seven exotic beasts came to a halt and all their riders dismounted, then walked straight toward the small restaurant — apparently intending to have breakfast there.
Ding!
A silver ingot landed on Ye Fan’s table with a light clatter, spinning in circles before coming to rest.
“You there — go lead our mounts over to that inn up ahead.”
The one speaking had walked in alongside Jin Chixiao, dressed in purple robes. He cast a single indifferent glance at Ye Fan and paid no further attention, heading straight to find a seat.
“Hey, I’m talking to you — can you hear me?” A person nearby noticed Ye Fan hadn’t moved and showed surprise. Just an ordinary person — and yet he wasn’t moved by a silver ingot?
“Not enough? You only have to walk a few steps.” Jin Chixiao glanced over and tossed a gold leaf in Ye Fan’s direction, aiming for his cheek.
Ding!
Ye Fan extended two fingers and caught the gold leaf, then tossed it casually onto the table. Two beams of clear light shot from his eyes as he looked at the group, slowly opening his mouth. “You want to order me around — by hurling a gold leaf at my face?”
The group was startled. They immediately understood — this was not an ordinary person. No ordinary person would dare speak to them this way.
“He won’t even take the gold leaf. We’ll find someone else to lead the horses.” One of them mocked. The others said nothing further, wary of stirring up trouble.
Ye Fan flicked several gold leaves with his fingers, sending them landing in front of Jin Chixiao and the one who had spoken. “A gift to you. Be quiet and stop being a nuisance.”
“You…!” The group was furious and leaped to their feet.
Jin Chixiao’s expression shifted. “Never mind — let’s eat first. Afterward we still need to rest before heading to the Precious Pavilion of the Nine Li Divine Dynasty.”
“I apologize, friend. You were unwilling, and we disturbed you.” The purple-robed young man also spoke up, clearly not wanting to cause a scene.
“Since you put it that way, consider the matter dropped.” Ye Fan rose from his seat and left.
“You…!” One of them was deeply unhappy, but did not act on it.
The Nine Li was one of the four great immortal divine dynasties of the Central Continent — with an ancient lineage and influence as vast as the ocean. In every great ancient city it had weapon halls, auction houses, and more.
At this moment, the area before the Precious Pavilion was packed shoulder to shoulder — a sea of people — as many rushed to attend this grand auction extravaganza.
The Nine Li Celestial Pavilion was truly magnificent, its grounds vast, like a city within a city.
Upon entering, there was a gate of light. Each time someone passed through it flickered, able to display a person’s level of power — those stationed there would then guide visitors to their seats based on the radiance emitted.
Ye Fan attempted to suppress his aura, but the light still flickered several times. A young woman came out and led him to a row of pavilions suspended in mid-air. Upon closer inspection, all those here were cultivators in the Dragon Transformation realm.
He made a request and was given a private box, seated in a suspended hall with a full view overlooking the main auction floor below — everything clear and unobstructed.
“I hope there is some extraordinary dragon marrow. If so, I can make my breakthrough right away.” Ye Fan sat in the elevated pavilion, watching everything in the auction floor. The trading had already begun.
“One six-thousand-year-old spiritual medicine, starting price: ten thousand pounds of source.”
“Eleven thousand pounds of source.”
“Twelve thousand pounds of source.”
…
In the end, the spiritual medicine sold for twenty thousand pounds of source — the first transaction within the Nine Li Celestial Pavilion.
The auction floor was moderate in temperature, but everything proceeded in an orderly fashion. No particularly exceptional rarities had appeared yet.
“One Departing-Fire Sword, starting price: one hundred thousand pounds of source.”
At last the floor below stirred. Many people were drawn in and immediately began calling out bids.
The sword was crimson-red as blood, billowing rosy clouds, its Departing-Fire blazing with scorching, nearly unbearable heat. It was an ancient sword woven through with the laws of heaven and earth — a Saint-Master-grade weapon.
“One hundred fifty thousand pounds of source!”
“One hundred eighty thousand pounds of source!”
“Two hundred thousand pounds of source!”
…
In the end the Departing-Fire Sword was hammered down at a staggering price and fell into the hands of a young man — to the surprise of many, a disciple of the Hall of Exceptional Talents.
Thereafter, the atmosphere in the auction hall grew increasingly fervent. One treasure after another came on display, drawing gasps of amazement, as sale prices grew ever more astounding.
When an immaculate white ingot of metal — lustrous as mutton-fat jade, with not a single flaw — was placed on a jade tray and brought into the hall, it sent the auction rising toward its peak.
“One block of mutton-fat jade divine iron, starting price: five hundred thousand pounds of pure source.”
Boom! The hall erupted. Many people stood up and pressed forward to see.
The block was the size of a human head — white as snow, without a single imperfection, without a trace of the quality one would expect from metal. It truly resembled a piece of mutton-fat jade.
Yet everyone knew this was a remarkable rarity. Even a Saint-Master forging a personal weapon could add a small amount during the smelting process — it was extraordinarily precious.
It was said such rare materials could already be used to forge king-grade weapons — desperately needed by those who had achieved great completion in a king’s constitution, and extremely scarce.
“Six hundred thousand pounds of source!”
“Seven hundred thousand pounds of source!”
“Eight hundred thousand pounds of source!”
Many people were agitated, adding a hundred thousand pounds of source with each bid, all vying to win it.
Ye Fan clicked his tongue. People with source were truly plentiful. Even as an heir to the tradition of the Source Arts Master, he had never thrown around tens of hundreds of thousands of pounds of source as though it were nothing.
“One million five hundred thousand pounds of pure source.” Suddenly a young man spoke with calm composure.
All sound in the hall vanished. The young man had leaped in a single stroke from one million to one million five hundred thousand pounds of pure source, demonstrating his absolute determination to win it.
“Who is he? This thing is a rarity, but the risks of refining it are enormous — it can easily be ruined and become worthless. And he dares make a move like this?”
“Xu Zixuan — the Feathered-Transformation King of the young generation of the Central Continent. A constitution like this hasn’t appeared in fifteen thousand years.”
“Were it not for the Central Emperor being so terrifyingly formidable, his reputation as a powerful young figure of the Central Continent would have spread to every corner of the world long ago.”
In the end, the Feathered-Transformation King used one million seven hundred thousand pounds of pure source to win the mutton-fat jade divine iron the size of a human head, with an elder at his side helping to pay.
Clearly he had powerful backing — an ancient family supporting him. Without that, he could never have produced so much source on his own.
“The next auction item: one king-grade weapon!”
Whoosh!
This time a wave of uproar swept through — every single person stood up. To think that this category of item had appeared — it had exceeded everyone’s expectations.
To hold a king-grade weapon was to rampage freely in the world — even to hold off a group of same-level opponents alone would be entirely possible. Its power was supreme beyond all comparison!
Ye Fan was shaken as well. He had held the Nine Divine Weapons, truly felt that terrifying might — unyielding, peerless, nothing could withstand it.
And at this very moment he still had a one-inch-long black war chariot on his person — a king-grade war chariot, equally terrifying. When it had been in Wang Chong’s hands, he had only been able to suppress it with the Nine Divine Weapons.
The item was a small bell — no larger than a baby’s fist, the bell body emerald green. It was a divine jade bell — like green agate.
A king-grade weapon: it looked crystalline and lustrous, yet it possessed an incomparably terrifying might, setting every single heart in the room racing.
“I must obtain this weapon.” Jin Chixiao spoke, threads of golden light appearing within his eyes.
Even in the Central Continent, at a grand auction of this scale, a king-grade divine weapon almost never appeared for bidding — they were simply too scarce. Anyone who obtained one would nurture it within their own flesh and blood rather than sell it.
“What a treasure — I expect it will be top-tier. I still want to buy dragon marrow, so I probably can’t afford this rarity.” From the suspended pavilion above, Ye Fan sighed softly.