The Ji Family’s floating island had been punched through. The ancient war chariot crashed downward, dust and smoke billowing skyward, shattered rocks piercing the clouds. Wang Teng swung the Celestial Emperor Sword to sever his own forearm, blood flowing freely.
After a world-shaking strike, this was the result. The Northern Emperor — acclaimed as peerless among the younger generation — had suffered such a grievous setback, robbed of a great advantage.
Dead silence fell over the scene. Everyone was stunned. No one could have anticipated this outcome. How could Wang Teng — who had no peers and was said to carry the bearing of an Ancient Emperor’s reincarnation — have lost his arm?!
Apart from Wang Chengkun grieving for his son, not a single person spoke. They watched everything in silence. It was all far too sudden — far beyond what anyone had expected.
The Sacred Physique’s sheer dominance sent a jolt through every heart. This was a naked slap to the Wang Family’s face. Their pride and joy, the emperor-son, had arrived on the scene only to bathe the sky in blood — far too devastating.
Before this, the Wang Family had been insufferably arrogant, acting as though they stood high above everyone else — convinced that Ye Fan was nothing but a heap of dry bones on the path to Great Emperor, an object to be eliminated.
Yet this had happened. Their so-called peerless Northern Emperor had been made to suffer greatly. Every single Wang Family member felt their face burning, and their hearts were filled with overwhelming dread.
Who would win and who would lose in this battle was now impossible to predict. No one could reach a conclusion. No one had expected Ye Fan’s attack to be so sharp.
Crack, crack, crack!
The flesh and bone of Wang Teng’s left arm shuddered and trembled. Crisp sounds rang out as bone snapped and regrew. Essence-qi poured in from all four directions like water, and the severed arm regenerated — nearly restored to full integrity in an instant.
“Teng, be careful!” Wang Chengkun called out from behind. Were it not for the fact that they were in front of so many people and his boastful words had already left his mouth, he would have halted this battle and rallied everyone to surround and kill Ye Fan.
The Northern Emperor, since making his name in the world, had never suffered such a great setback. His expression was cold enough to freeze solid. Even in his great battle against the monkey, his Martial Heavenly Eye had never been broken through. Today, disaster had befallen him.
Ring!
The sword sang against the sky. Wang Teng, wielding the Celestial Emperor Sword and driving the golden ancient war chariot, charged in once more. His long black hair stood completely on end, his eyes as sharp and piercing as blades.
The golden sacred sword — massive as a mountain range, its tip pressing against the vault of heaven, descending like a mountain — produced a sound that shook the ears, like a vast ocean surging in a towering flood, making hearts quail.
Ye Fan gripped the bronze coffin and hewed forward, as if swinging an ancient, primordial universe into motion. All the ages and all the heavens trembled together. The floating island began to break apart — unable to bear the impact of the shockwave.
The Northern Emperor swiftly withdrew his sword without completing the slash. He was probing, gauging the true extent of Ye Fan’s combat power — moving like a divine phoenix dancing through the sky, retreating to a distant point.
Ye Fan halted the swing of his arm. The bronze coffin struck into the void, instantly opening a terrifying abyss within it. Deep inside, starlight flickered — as if it connected to an entire stellar region.
Slice!
Wang Teng’s eyes blazed with fierce and brilliant light. Two dazzling beams shot forth — the Martial Heavenly Eye re-emerged, cleaving toward Ye Fan once more. Not only could it pierce through one’s very source, it was also the sharpest of divine swords!
Ye Fan remained utterly composed. He used the bronze coffin as a body shield. The golden little figure seated within his forehead, cradling the small black gourd, shook it with great force — a divine light shot out, like a blade of celestial execution that could slay immortals.
The Northern Emperor’s eye-light, condensed to blade-like sharpness, struck against it with a ringing clang, but was ultimately incinerated by nine-colored threads of mist and scattered into the void.
Moreover, the beam of light fired from Ye Fan’s forehead showed no reduction in speed, piercing through the void and flying outward, charging directly for Wang Teng’s head — unstoppable.
This time, the Northern Emperor had already prepared himself. He was still evaluating Ye Fan’s battle strength — radiance rising from the soles of his feet, each step leaving a luminous trace, driving the ancient war chariot in a flash-retreat to safety.
A thread of divine radiance passed through, instantly vaporizing a distant palace hall — reducing it to flying ash in a single moment, leaving nothing behind. Not even the inscribed Dao patterns carved into its surface could resist it.
How could the Sacred Physique be so powerful? What force lay within the vertical eye he had opened? This was the question on every mind — prior to this, no one had known.
Wang Teng probed repeatedly, continuing to strike without engaging in direct full-force combat. Meanwhile, Ye Fan was also gathering himself, preparing to eliminate his enemy in a single blow — coaxing the nine-colored fire threads within the black gourd.
“Ten Thousand Spirits Transmuting into Dao — as Numberless as the Sands of the Ganges!”
The Northern Emperor suddenly gave a great cry. Every manner of power in this world transformed into the rules of the Dao — the essence-qi of grasses and trees, the radiance of the blazing sun, the faint light of the stars, the primordial source of the cosmos — all poured down in a torrent.
After long observation, he finally unleashed one of the great techniques in his arsenal of conquest — a secret art from the emperor’s scripture, its divine power awe-inspiring, beyond all measurement.
Every sentient being in heaven and earth, every power that existed, transformed into the rules of the Dao — all of it converted into traces of the Dao, forming strands of lines that traversed the void in every direction.
This was an extraordinarily fearsome divine art, plunging all who faced it into a waking nightmare — impossible to resist. Given how many spiritual things existed in this world, if all were summoned to transmute into the Dao, they would be inexhaustible — hence the expression: as numberless as the sands of the Ganges.
Between heaven and earth, dense nets appeared everywhere — silver ones, purple ones… Ten Thousand Spirits Transmuting into Dao, as Numberless as the Sands of the Ganges — they became one great net of the Grand Dao, descending to envelop and capture.
Behind the arena, even the Southern Demon and Zi Tian Du were moved. Every sect master present felt a chill. This secret art was extraordinarily bizarre — it transmuted all things in heaven and earth into the laws of the Dao, borrowing the power of every rule for its own use.
Without a sound, without a whisper, the great net descended just like that — sealing off the outside world, forming a small world unto itself, operating under ten thousand Dao principles, dissolving all enemies within.
“Break for me!”
Ye Fan bellowed. A flash of divine flame blazed from between his brows, and a towering Fusang tree materialized before him — its leaves like refined gold, ringing with a sharp metallic sound. Nine golden ravens perched upon it, bursting forth like nine suns.
Boom!
Nine golden divine birds, flames surging to the sky, incinerating all things — they tore apart every strand of law and severed every rule thread above them, shattering all the principles overhead.
“The True Scripture of the Sun!” Someone cried out in shock, recognizing this technique — its divine power almost identical to that of the ancient True Scripture of the Sun described in legend.
“No wonder — the Sacred Physique has obtained the True Scripture of the Sun, and has cultivated the True Fire of the Sun!” Others suddenly understood with clarity.
At the same time, many were shaken to the core. This was one of the most formidable ancient scriptures in existence — one of the very origins of human cultivation, traceable back to the age of the Great Antiquity.
In the ancient past, the human race had two great ancient scriptures — the True Scripture of the Yin and the True Scripture of the Sun. Both were unfathomably profound, bearing the boundless wisdom of the ancients, said to have originated from another stellar region.
Later, as the human race rose to power, several remote-antiquity Great Emperors had studied both scriptures, drawing from them infinite enlightenment, which then inspired the creation of their own cultivation methods.
For this reason, the two ancient scriptures of Yin and Sun came to be called “Mother Scriptures” — possessing an extraordinarily special significance. It was a pity that they had been lost for so long, impossible to locate.
Ye Fan had absorbed the Bodhi Seed, channeled the mysteries of the True Scripture of the Sun, controlled the nine-colored fire threads, and manifested a power that could not be readily defined.
The Fusang divine tree towered overhead — vast, lush, its trunk and every leaf golden, blazing with roaring flames. Nine golden ravens circled above it in flight, destroying the transmuted Dao power utterly.
Boom!
All of it vanished. The Dao traces were swept clean, ceasing to exist. Throughout heaven and earth, only a vast expanse of sacred flames remained burning, as nine golden ravens charged together toward the Northern Emperor.
“Is the True Scripture of the Sun truly so powerful?” People murmured in uncertain astonishment, while the Wang Family members wore expressions of deep discomfort — the Sacred Physique had exceeded all their expectations.
“Ten-Directional Star Domain Crossing!” Wang Teng gave a low cry, his two hands sweeping forcefully through the air. A massive cross-shaped crack appeared in the sky — a great cross-shaped void rift extending outward.
As if born from dream and illusion, a cross-shaped stellar region appeared — like pearls of stars strung together at the crossing points, suspended in a separate expanse of void.
Bang!
This was a breathtaking collision of tremendous forces. The nine-layered fire domain’s mist-threads, seemingly capable of burning through all the heavens, clashed violently against this cross-shaped stellar region. Endless ash surged upward.
Brilliant!
Blazing!
Savage!
Wave upon wave of the Dao’s great power surged in impact — like a tidal wave battering a seawall, like the Milky Way crashing against an ancient star — leaving nothing in their wake but a land of utter devastation.
When all of it faded, the cross-shaped stellar region had been obliterated. The ancient Fusang tree and all the golden ravens had vanished as well, their flames extinguished.
“I see now — it is the True Scripture of the Sun combined with power from an external path!” Wang Teng murmured to himself. He appeared to have assessed the truth of things. He said gravely: “Sacred Physique, I will make you understand — a gap in ability is a gap in ability. No one can ascend to heaven in a single step!”
Ye Fan was calculating. Could he sweep all of the Wang Family members into his next move? He wanted to achieve victory in a single battle — eliminate every last one of his great enemies from this clan. He studied the terrain and positions.
The Northern Emperor stepped off the ancient war chariot and sat in the void. His hands moved in sweeping gestures as he bellowed: “Everything should end now. Eternal exile — the Chaotic Sky Secret Art!”
The void twisted. All ten directions were annihilated. Throughout heaven and earth, an unknowable number of void abysses appeared, stretching toward different dimensional planes — a field of temporal and spatial chaotic cavities.
“The Chaotic Ancient Emperor’s… Chaotic Sky Secret Art!”
Someone cried out in horror. It was now beyond doubt — Wang Teng had received the complete transmission and had mastered an extraordinarily terrifying secret art: one capable of exiling a person into an unknown span of time and space.
More precisely, it forcibly thrust one into an unnamed dimension — throwing heaven and earth into chaos, sealing them forever, making them vanish from this plane of existence entirely.
Ye Fan resisted, calling upon the bronze coffin and driving the small black gourd, deploying heaven-overflowing sacred flames to break through the technique. Yet this secret art was too bizarre. Once activated, void abysses multiplied in countless layers — burn through one, and another appeared, endless and infinite.
Whoosh!
With a dull rumbling sound, a void abyss swallowed Ye Fan. Then another abyss came to swallow that one — overlapping layer upon layer. Ye Fan was driven into the endless turbulence of the void.
“Chaotic Sky Secret Art — eternal exile!” The Northern Emperor gave a great shout, snapping his eyes open and rising to his feet. He descended upon the golden ancient war chariot.
Before them, the endless layered void disappeared entirely, closing forever. Ye Fan had been driven into a small dimensional space that no one could identify, and vanished from this world.
“What?!”
“This is too terrifying!”
All the mighty figures present felt cold from head to toe. This secret art of the Chaotic Ancient Emperor was so horrifying it was almost demonic. No matter how powerful an enemy one faced, they could always be exiled.
Once cast into such a boundless dimensional space, finding the way back was nearly impossible — until one’s life force was entirely consumed and death came. Finding the path home was simply out of the question.
This was an invincible secret art — created by the Chaotic Ancient Emperor, an ultimate emperor technique designed to overcome the strong from a position of weakness. No matter how vast one’s divine abilities, once struck by it, one would be eternally exiled.
“No — Little Ye!” Ji Ziyue cried out. Tears slipped down her face and fell upon her purple garments.
“Ye Fan!” Pang Bo also bellowed.
“Little Ye — how could this happen?!” Li Heishui, Wu Zhongtian, and the others also called out in anguish, staring into the void, glaring with rage at Wang Teng, their hearts wrung with grief.
“Ha ha ha…” Wang Chengkun burst into triumphant laughter — utterly elated, overjoyed without limit. The Northern Emperor’s might was unstoppable by any hand; he was supremely pleased.
Everyone else’s expressions changed. With this single technique inherited from the Chaotic Ancient Emperor, what powerful figure could the Northern Emperor not handle? Even a Living Fossil could be exiled!
This peerless secret art was virtually without solution — a technique the remote-antiquity Great Emperor had refined at the cost of his life’s work. It was invincible — famously designed to overcome the strong from a position of weakness.
“The Northern Emperor lives up to his name — barely a test of his strength, and already displaying such power. Who in the world today can stand against him?”
“Truly born with heaven-defying natural gifts — at this age, already commanding all under heaven, leaving even elder generation figures helpless. Truly worthy of the title Ancient Emperor’s reincarnation!”
“A supreme talent of his generation — indeed stepping over the Sacred Physique’s corpse, advancing along a blood-soaked road. He will surely prove his Dao in the future!”
Many came forward, and those with close ties to the Wang Family lavished praises in a continuous stream.
In truth, the others had also silently conceded. A Northern Emperor like this was indeed nearly impossible to resist. Even a Great Bandit in the distance furrowed his brow deeply, filled with apprehension.
Within the boundless chaotic void, there was eternal darkness and cold — seemingly without end. Ye Fan drifted continuously, unable to feel the passage of time. It was as if millions of years had passed, yet also as if it were a single eternal instant. He racked his mind in search of a way back.
Silence. Cold. Darkness. Not a flicker of hope. Alone, he sat upon the Ancient Bronze Coffin, drifting endlessly in a single direction.
He seemed lost within an ancient cosmos, unable to find the way back. Seated on the bronze coffin, he thought with all his might — questioning his own heart to locate the path home.
“The roads I have walked. The Dao I have experienced. The laws I have felt…” He spoke within himself, deducing without pause, gradually growing still.
At last, he questioned the Dao and questioned his heart. The traces of the Dao swirled around his body; the source of his heart shone with brilliant light. Both rang out at once — in the eternal darkness, they played out the sound of the Dao.
His entire body became crystalline. Within his heart, a lamp quietly rose — faint and barely there — pointing toward one direction. Ye Fan broke through the small dimensional space and set out on a long journey.
There seemed to be no end to it. He broke through one patch of nothingness, then another, but could not find the way home.
Yet he did not give up. Seated upon the small bronze coffin, he began to silently recite an ancient scripture — a few hundred characters in total, yet as profound as a heavenly text, beyond all reckoning. He could not begin to understand it.
It was precisely the scripture that had originated from the Ancient Bronze Coffin. Over these years, he had studied it continuously, yet had never managed to comprehend it. It did not seem to be a cultivation method at all — it was simply beyond understanding. Yet it could calm the mind and focus the spirit.
One character after another floated out, imprinting themselves upon his heart — like a gently flowing spring, extraordinarily soft and gentle, nourishing his divine consciousness and replenishing the essence-energy of his physical form.
Illuminate the heart. Illuminate the self. Illuminate the Dao. The lamp within his heart burned brighter — and he sank into a wondrous state in which self and Dao became one, guiding him onward. This was the self merging with the Dao — something impossible to achieve under ordinary circumstances.
Yet at this moment, he had achieved it. It must be said: Ye Fan had exceptional gifts on the path of cultivation. His ten years of relentless tempering, resulting in his current strength, said everything that needed to be said.
The lamp in his heart burned steadily. The self became the Dao — pointing toward the road home, breaking through the mist, traversing endless nothingness, stepping onto the path of return.
“As I have said before — the Sacred Physique amounts to nothing. How can he be compared to our Teng?” The Wang Family members laughed loudly.
Wang Chengkun basked in satisfaction and pride. With a son like this, he naturally boasted with delight. Standing before the golden ancient chariot, he gazed at Ye Fan’s old friends and associates with an expression full of contempt.
“The Sacred Physique is not capable — he’s nowhere near my son!”
Boom!
His last word had barely left his mouth when the void shattered. A bronze coffin burst through — striking him squarely on the back. Half his body became pulp on the spot.
“Little Ye!” Ji Ziyue, who had been weeping, cried out in shock, her beautiful eyes going wide.
“Ye Fan!” The others also cried out in astonishment.
Boom!
In that same instant, the black gourd between Ye Fan’s brows pulsed. Divine flames surged skyward in a torrent, engulfing the golden ancient war chariot.
“Ahh…” Wang Teng’s own paternal uncle, Wang Chengyun, bore the full brunt. He became a human torch on the spot.
The Northern Emperor also shrieked in agony as half his body was set ablaze — his screams piercing and raw.
This sight froze every last person present!