With each step the young madman took forward, the fluctuations emanating from the purple-bronze warship grew more intense, as though some ancient sky-rending fiend were awakening, threatening to shatter the world entire.

Fifteen hundred li away, the many onlookers were gripped by terror. The old madman had already laid down a supreme divine formation that sealed away the qi within — and yet the might bleeding through was still this overwhelming!

At that moment, their primordial spirits felt as though they were being split apart, as though blades were scraping across their bones, as though every inch of flesh and blood was being peeled away. It was a pain that threatened to destroy one’s very body.

One could only imagine what it would have been like without that ancient divine formation to serve as a barrier. An untold number of li in every direction would surely have been swallowed and destroyed, and those spectators would have been reduced to nothing but ashes.

And all of this — all of it — was merely the residual fluctuation of the two parties. Neither had yet struck. Such was the nature of an ancient saint: a supreme being, a god made real.

A deep, muffled sound rang out. The purple-bronze warship — larger than an entire mountain range — shuddered, and flakes of bronze rust rained down across the ground. The hatch of the ship swung open wide, and a violent wind surged outward.

Every gust of that wind was black. It cleaved through the void, tore open chaos itself, and in that instant, from heaven to earth, a murderous stillness descended.

It was as though a deity born of hell had shattered its cage and stepped into the mortal world, come to carry out the annihilation of all existence. Rolling killing intent surged forth like a hurricane, filling every corner of the world.

None were beyond its reach. The aura of death coiled and wound through the air, stretching across past and present, above and below, all of heaven and earth stirred awake by this wind of death.

“Bang!”

A foot stepped out. Black iron armor gleamed around it, wrapped snugly about the sole, dark light swirling, and the soul-piercing divine power it radiated grew heavier still.

“Thud!”

The purple-bronze warship shuddered. At last, this mighty existence walked out — clad head to toe in dark iron war-armor, with dark light flickering all about its towering, imposing frame.

It truly was like a divine being made manifest. Radiance coiled around its entire body; the black sacred armor was cold and austere, covering every inch of it, carrying an air of divine martial might.

Its face was snow-white, as though it had not seen sunlight in tens of thousands of years — breathtakingly handsome, and yet already traced with faint, fine wrinkles, the marks left behind by the passage of ages.

Its hair had gone partly white as well, having lost some of its luster. Only its eyes remained jet-black, like two precious black gems — bright, deep, and full of life.

One could imagine how formidably majestic this ancient progenitor must have been in its youth. Now, the ages had left their indelible marks upon its body.

This was a king of unfathomable power — one that had once demanded the reverent prostration of all living beings, and who now appeared, real and true, in the mortal world.

“Human — you dare come alone to slay dozens of our ancient kings? Truly, you have courage. But you are only seeking death!” the figure declared in a deep, heavy voice.

In response, the young madman made only one gesture: he struck. Clean and decisive, he lashed out with action alone as his answer.

“Roar…!”

In that moment, the young madman truly appeared to have fallen into a demonic frenzy. His eyes held boundless killing intent. Every strand of his dense black hair stood on end like a dragon’s spine, his murderous aura seething and boiling over.

Fifteen hundred li away, the onlookers were filled with dread. Since time immemorial, the human race had always retreated before ancient kings such as this — or worse, prostrated themselves in humiliating reverence, their hearts filled with fear. Who had ever dared launch a proactive assault against such a being?

Though they were not facing it themselves, though they had not struck a single blow, their blood still surged hot with excitement. A cultivator should be like this — even standing before a legendary progenitor king, one should dare to kill.

“Clang!”

The progenitor king, clad in its divine black auric gold armor, summoned into its hand a long spear forged from black crystal and thrust it forward. The motion was not especially swift — and yet from it rang out the sacred tones of the Heavenly Dao.

“This is… the resonance of the Grand Dao — the harmonious sound of divine power threading through all of heaven and earth!”

Every single spectator felt the hairs on their bodies stand on end. This was the Dao-law of the slaughter of all living beings — something only a taboo existence could manifest, something that had appeared only in legend, until now.

The Grand Dao resonated. A thousand, ten thousand threads descended, dragons soaring among them, phoenixes dancing, sacred sound like a blade, poised to sever all life.

Yet all of this was merely the accompaniment — the sacred tones of Heaven that arose alongside the true killing strike. The real attack was the black crystal divine spear itself, which in an instant pierced through the heavens and appeared before the young madman’s brow in the blink of an eye.

Terrifying beyond all measure!

That was the trembling spiritual impression left on every soul present. That single spear carried with it countless black threads — every one a law, every strand sufficient to slay a sect founder.

Ten thousand threads, condensed upon the black spear-tip, converging on the old madman’s forehead bone. One could well imagine the terrible, all-conquering force of such a blow.

“Clang!”

The young madman’s hand was like a length of crystalline jade, radiant with brilliant light. His eyes held boundless cold clarity. With two fingers, he caught the demonic spear-tip and pinched it still.

A blow sufficient to annihilate every last member of a great sect, to sink the earth itself, to bring down a meteorite from the heavens — and it had been caught between two fingers.

A world-shaking strike halted. The black crystal spear was stopped cold. It was beyond belief. Every spectator was petrified, their eyes filled with stunned disbelief, unable to move a single muscle.

Even the ancient progenitor king was astonished. Its full-power blow had been neutralized in such a manner — two fingers alone, holding its divine weapon motionless, unable to advance a single inch.

The distance to the forehead was now less than a finger’s breadth. The laws of Heaven exhaled and inhaled, countless threads winding and coiling. Had it struck true, no hero under heaven, however great, could have avoided being reduced to ash.

And yet every thread of law-power was suppressed, unable to advance even a hair’s breadth — and a surging, overwhelming presence crashed toward the progenitor king like a great beast, nearly suffocating it.

The ancient king’s black eyes erupted with killing intent like a dragon surging upward. It wrenched with great force and pulled the spear down and to the side, slashing it like a blade.

“Clang!”

The old madman blocked with one hand, sending a cascade of sparks flying, shattering a vast swath of surrounding space and tearing open a series of great chasms in the void.

“Crack!”

In that same instant, he twisted with force, and the spear-tip of black divine crystal snapped. In his hand, it was ground down into black dust, glittering faintly as it scattered.

All of this had transpired in the span of a spark — far beyond the speed of the onlookers’ perception. The ancient king’s weapon had simply been destroyed.

The old madman was too fast. He had mastered the Script of Movement — a single step carried him a thousand zhang, as though he were a flash of light winking out of existence. Though the ancient progenitor king was swift as well, moving like lightning, it could not evade him.

“Pft!”

With one hand, the old madman plunged directly into the progenitor king’s chest, splitting it open. Blood surged madly, and organs and viscera spilled forth.

The ancient king roared. Every manner of sacred Dao-law was unleashed at once, yet none of it could stem the wound. The progenitor’s ancient blood continued to gush without end, unstoppable.

“Ahhh…!”

It struggled with fierce desperation, its divine power surging like a flood tide, the order of an ancient king weaving out from it like chain after chain of divine links — yet none of it could touch its enemy.

In that moment, it made a decisive choice and abandoned its physical body. From its heavenly spirit point, divine light shot skyward as its primordial spirit attempted to flee.

But the young madman was faster — and more decisive. He seized the broken spear and, with a wet sound, drove it downward into the ancient king’s heavenly spirit point, threading it through the body entire.

Scenes such as this were scarcely seen in a thousand lifetimes. Who else could slay an ancient progenitor king in such a clean and merciless fashion?

Blood surged upward, along with a spray of white brain matter. The black crystal spear was driven in to the very hilt, pinning the primordial spirit to pieces.

No one knew how long it was before the spectators finally came to their senses. It had been gruesome — profoundly, staggeringly so. This had been an ancient king. And it had been killed just like that.

The old madman took the broken spear in hand and raised the body — that body capable of shaking ten thousand ages — on its tip, then flicked his wrist and threw it to the ground. He walked forward on foot.

Not a single person spoke. How many years had it been since the human race had produced someone like this — someone who dared to slay an ancient king in such a manner? In all of history, how many examples could there be?

Was this someone who could attain the Dao? It was the unspoken question in every heart. When that thought struck, people could not help but tremble.

Ye Fan was deeply shaken as well. So this was the might of a saint? That it could be this terrifying? The road he had yet to walk was still very, very long.

In the vast golden desert, there was only one figure — a youth with black hair streaming behind him, eyes blazing with savage killing intent, his steps steady and unwavering, one by one carrying him toward the purple-bronze ancient ship.

It was a breathtaking sight — one person, truly daring to stand alone against so many ancient kings. The young madman did not hesitate for a single instant. His resolve was absolute.

“It’s them… it’s actually them — they’ve come back!” Fifteen hundred li away, the sect master of an immortal inheritance cried out, staring at the ancient ship, having finally remembered something.

“Could this be the Destroyers from that endless age?” Another sect founder spoke, their expression uncertain and alarmed.

“Yes, it is them. Even eternal exile could not wear them away. In the end, they’ve still returned!” An ancient living fossil said in a trembling voice.

Ye Fan’s heart lurched. He listened intently and came to understand a terrifying truth.

In that distant, savage primordial era, a group of saints from beyond the domain had driven an ancient ship to arrive here. Those of the Ziwei Ancient Star Region had sensed them in advance, and upon careful perception, realized they could not be resisted — for those beings were simply too powerful.

It was said that these ancient lifeforms represented the supreme combat force born from the gathering of kings from the Three Great Ancient Lands.

At that time, the Ziwei Ancient Star Region was in an age of Great Emperors’ passing. In the end, the primal saints of that age had exhausted their divine essence and joined together to unleash a staggering taboo secret art, exiling the purple-bronze warship from beyond the domain to an unknown ancient realm deep within the Desolate regions of the cosmos.

“It drained the saints of the primordial age to death to move that ship into an unknown time and space — and yet after all these immeasurable ages, they’ve come back!”

When the old secret was finally revealed, every person felt ice run through their veins from head to foot. How could this be resisted? For the human race, this was an apocalyptic catastrophe.

Everyone was praying — hoping that the young madman burning with killing intent would slay all the ancient kings. If he failed, rivers of blood would inevitably flow across the earth, with the bones of over a hundred million.

“Even a saint of antiquity, even one with the hope of attaining the Dao — there’s no way to stand alone against so many!” The people were filled with desperate worry.

“The divine powers of these progenitor kings exceed all imagination. One saint holding their own against one or two of them would already be extraordinary. The saint of our race faces a situation with no way out.”

“No one can stand alone against this many ancient kings — unless a Great Emperor of antiquity were reborn.”

Once they understood everything, the people’s hearts were filled with despair. Even though the young madman had slain two ancient kings, no one could ease the tension by even a fraction.

There was no question — the two ancient kings killed just now had both been in a state of extreme exhaustion. In their peak condition, they would have been invincible under heaven.

Under normal circumstances, an ancient saint being able to contend with several peers was already remarkable. For one to kill dozens single-handedly — that was truly defying heaven.

“They’ve drained the essence of life from every living thing for hundreds of thousands of li in every direction. All vegetation and creatures are dead. Some of the progenitor kings have probably fully recovered by now.”

“They haven’t all emerged at once. Right now they must be channeling their essence into a select few, bringing those ones out at full strength. Even with the potential to attain the Dao, one cannot overcome this…!”

“Bang!”

The young madman moved with overwhelming force, slapping one palm out and caving in a large section of the purple-bronze warship — comparable in size to an entire mountain range — punching a massive hole in its hull.

His eyes blazed with mad killing intent, utterly cold and ruthless. Even facing a situation with no apparent exit, he showed not a trace of fear.

“Boom!”

Suddenly, a terrifying aura surged outward — as though it could pierce through all of past and future, vast enough to flood ten thousand worlds — and a supreme existence, having gathered its full strength, finally stepped out.

Its entire body was jet-black, every inch of its skin radiating dark light, as though it had been cast from black crystal. It bore over a thousand arms, like a thousand-armed Buddha.

This was a supreme personage. It walked slowly, and yet with every step it took, it seemed as though ten thousand worlds pulsed along with it. Cast like black gold, it was like an undying god.

“Human, though you are very powerful, coming to this place means you have sought your own death — there is not a thread of hope for you to survive. I have even witnessed the methods of the Old Sage Emperor of Battle.” Within the purple-bronze ancient warship, there were three Great Sages in total. Now the Thousand-Armed Divine Fiend had finally appeared in the world.