“Could it be that she truly passed away in transcendence while guarding the Northern Aurora?”
Ye Fan’s heart shook, for when he activated his Heavenly Eye once more, he saw that the old woman’s body was enveloped by all manner of intricate Dao markings, as though she were dissolving into the void.
This was the unmistakable sign of an ancient saint merging with the Dao!
“Is she truly merging with the Dao?” Ye Fan could not help but tilt his head back and let out a long sigh toward the heavens. Yet another saint of the human race was about to depart this world. Who in this age could stand against the Primordial Ancestral Kings?
No matter how many times he called out, no matter how many transmissions he sent, the old woman ahead showed not the slightest reaction. She did not move at all — still as a stone carving, cold and utterly without breath.
Only the azure-gold pagoda above her head still hovered in the air, trailing strands of cyan energy downward, resonating with the Dao-merging markings, becoming one with them.
“How could this be — she intends to pass away in silent transcendence here…” Ye Fan sighed. A saint without a name, unknown to the world, dying just as silently.
He believed that she had most likely been waiting for the Northern Aurora to appear, yet in the end she had not obtained it — otherwise it would not have come to this. A pity. A lament.
He forced himself to take a step forward, crossing into the domain said to be accessible only to saints — but in that instant, he saw the skin of his own foot begin to crack and split.
Even though he possessed the Sacred Physique, with a physical shell far surpassing all other constitutions, he still could not be compared to a true saint. The gap between them was as vast as heaven and earth — if an ordinary cultivator could be called a mortal, then a saint was as a true immortal.
Crack!
Even summoning the purple lightning hammer proved useless. The several fractures upon it groaned and resonated. If he were to force his way deeper, it would certainly shatter.
Even possessing a genuine, world-spanning sacred weapon passed down through generations would not suffice, for what this place demanded was the power of a saint — a single weapon alone could not resolve the problem.
This place involved not only Dao markings, but also spiritual-level pressure and trials of the origin itself — and so it was that a stone stele had been carved here, marking where even saints must halt.
“Senior, if you still have any awareness, if you can still act — please save that young man sealed within the divine ice. Let him break free from his imprisonment.”
Ye Fan spoke these words. He had no way to advance any further. In the end, he could only retreat step by step out of the terrifying vortex, as all manner of chaotic light slashed across his body with ringing metallic sounds.
A short while ago, in that brief glimpse, he had seemed to truly see Tu Fei — yet he could not enter. This world held more than just the Seven Great Forbidden Zones of the Eastern Wastelands; in other lands as well there existed terrible secret domains that no human being could tread.
“A saint has perished…” The weight in Ye Fan’s heart was immense.
In this age, there was no longer a single saint standing guard. The mad old man had fallen in battle beyond the domain; this old woman was about to merge with the Dao and vanish from the human world. Gone. Both gone.
In the Western Desert, atop Mount Sumeru, there was said to be a Victorious Fighting Buddha — a being of legend whose abilities reached from heaven to earth — yet when Ye Fan had returned, word had already spread that even he had seemingly achieved nirvana and departed this world.
The Ancestral Kings of the primordial races were awakening. Who could stop them? Ye Fan did not know. After withdrawing from the terrifying and dazzling vortex, he felt a pressure heavier than the sky itself pressing down upon him. This was an age that filled a person with despair.
The human race no longer had a single saint capable of overawing all under heaven. Those who had transcended had transcended; those who had fallen had fallen. All had withered away.
Moreover — even if that unfathomably ancient Victorious Fighting Buddha in the Western Desert still lived, whether he could even be counted as human was difficult to say.
The War God of the barbarian tribes appeared unharmed, but Ye Fan had once learned a secret from the old Barbarian King: he was an ancient saint from a primordial age who had nearly merged with the Dao, and who had obtained divine spring liquid by chance, using it to seal himself in a state between existence and non-existence — unable to truly walk out.
Otherwise, who would choose to seal themselves at the very height of their power? Any saint possessed the iron will of the truly resolute — they would never retreat. Proving the Dao was their only choice.
To transform one’s very self into latent foundation was an act of last resort, the most helpless of all choices. Once the divine spring was shattered, he would not long remain in the world.
Ye Fan, Li Tian, and Yan Yixi all felt a deep, mournful resonance. None of them had imagined that in a place where a single strand of immortal light appeared only once in a hundred thousand years, they would witness a saint on the verge of merging with the Dao.
At this moment, a tremendous pressure descended, filling the hearts of all three with a cloud of shadow. This great age was terrifying — not a single unharmed human Great Saint stood upright in all the world.
“In truth, if the primordial races had awakened just a few thousand years later, everything would have been different. This is an age where kings rise in every direction and all manner of constitutions emerge — if these people are given time to grow, what they will become is staggering!”
Cold wind howled. Snow fell thick and fast. This was a world of vast, white blankness — bone-piercingly cold.
“Tu Fei, I hope that one day I will see you break free through your own strength — that you will fight your own way out.” Ye Fan turned to leave.
He did not know when they might meet again — only that by then, surely much time would have passed, and all things would have changed. Wild grass would have flourished and withered through its seasons; so many great heroes would have aged and died, dust returning to dust, earth returning to earth.
Great rivers change their courses. Vast lakes run dry. The human world rises and falls. The years shift and turn. Even the most gifted of the human race will have their day of growing old.
If, one day, every person he had ever known — including every enemy — had aged and been buried beneath the yellow earth, and only he alone remained undying — even if he stood as an awe-inspiring presence across past, present, and future — would that not itself be a kind of sorrow? A boundless world, and not a single familiar face remaining.
Ye Fan smiled. These thoughts had come to him in a flash, and yet they felt so distant — not quite real.
And yet — why did his heart shudder?
The Great Completion Sacred Physique could live at least ten thousand years. In old age, could he only stand alone in long sighs, lost in memories of the past? Friends, beloved — surely they would have long since returned to the earth.
To look around in all directions and find no familiar face remaining — if even his enemies had all died off, if there existed not a single person who had walked through the ages alongside him — that truly would be terrifying.
A world full of enemies might very well transform into another state entirely: a world of utter silence. Perhaps the Great Emperors of antiquity had all passed through this kind of sorrow.
This was more terrifying than having enemies in every corner of the world!
The Southern Ridge. Mountains and valleys in their tens of thousands, with great veins of earth running throughout.
Half a month had passed by now. Ye Fan and the others had returned — though they had not gone to the barbarian tribe encampment, moving without sound or trace, keeping a very low profile.
Ye Fan understood that the moment he appeared, it would most likely bring about a battle that would tear the sky apart. He did not know how many pairs of eyes were watching. Even having leveled one ancient family, there were still fierce individuals who sought to eliminate him.
Of course, he also wanted to cut those people down. Some grudges admit of no resolution — they demand a final, absolute reckoning.
Ye Fan did not know that within the barbarian tribe encampment, someone from his past was waiting for him. He had come to the Vermilion Bird City, for he had heard that Zi Tiandu had arrived there.
The Bright Moon Palace was an extremely mysterious celestial fortress, hidden in the sky above Vermilion Bird City. Only those of truly formidable power could enter — every person who came here had an extraordinary background.
Within its grounds there were Serene Pure Lands, where figures of grandmaster rank could gather in small groups to discuss the Dao and speak of techniques. There were also spaces for the pleasures of moonlit evenings and floral seasons, where one could witness the renowned beauties of the Southern Ridge perform their arts — though they would never stay the night. Beyond these, there were also ancient cave dwellings left behind by sages of a primordial age, relocated here, allowing later generations to comprehend the Dao — drawing forth even living fossils to wander through.
The Bright Moon Pavilion was situated in the sky above Vermilion Bird City. To outward appearances it was merely a celestial fortress, but once one stepped inside, a whole other world revealed itself: a small realm of its own, spanning a hundred li in all directions, which had persisted in the world for many tens of thousands of years.
Within one of its gardens, the forest was deep and secluded, pressed close against a small river. The sound of a guqin rang out — a beautiful melody, moving the heart. It began slow and gentle, then gradually the rhythm grew taut, rising in layered waves, notes ringing one upon another, sharp and clear, conjuring a vivid tableau of a hundred vessels racing with the current, and dragons leaping through the vast ocean.
Before the guqin sat an achingly beautiful young woman. She wore a light gauze robe; her dark hair spread around her like clouds. Her fingers moved with grace and spirit, her entire being wreathed in a divine radiance — breathtakingly beautiful.
“The Southern Ridge’s Wu Tiannu is everything her reputation promises. A single wondrous melody that stirs the nine heavens — and most fitting for this moment. In this present age, dragons soar and tigers leap — an era where every kind of constitution reveals itself, where heroes and paragons arise together, each hoping to spring forward and transform into the sole true dragon, to soar alone through the nine heavens above.” A young man sighed with feeling.
Wu Fei was one of the Four Celestial Women of the Southern Ridge. Not only was her beauty world-shaking, but she had also entered the Dao through music, attaining a level of mastery that left others astonished.
Chen Yuan, Liu Yunjie, Kong Linghua, and Xie Siyuan were among the foremost young talents of the Southern Ridge. Though none of them matched the southern prodigy, they all came from remarkable origins — some were Divine Sons, some were direct grandsons of ancient demon lords, and at least one had inherited a complete lineage tradition and was formally established as an extraordinarily prestigious young grandmaster.
Yet at this moment, none of them were the true center of attention. They were serving as hosts to the young lord of the Divine Spirit Valley, welcoming Zi Tiandu with the utmost ceremonial hospitality.
The garden was a tranquil and serene place. A small river ran through it. Pavilions and terraces were scattered among the trees. The scent of grass mingled with the breath of the earth — an atmosphere that spoke of returning to nature, of recovering one’s original simplicity.
Chen Yuan, Liu Yunjie, Kong Linghua, and Xie Siyuan — several of the Southern Ridge’s foremost young talents — had not only invited Wu Fei, one of the Four Celestial Women, but also a number of other luminous beauties of the Southern Ridge. They had gathered together, speaking of the past and present, each word witty and sparkling like pearls.
The primordial races were emerging into the world. These powerful young figures clearly wished to forge close ties with the Divine Spirit Valley and pull themselves into its orbit.
Ordinarily, the Southern Ridge’s luminous beauties were each of them proud and lofty, dismissing the pursuit and flattery of their peers with complete indifference, showing no warmth whatsoever. But today was entirely different. Their smiles were captivating, each one radiant — agreeable and easy to be around.
Only an invitation from the foremost brilliants of the Southern Ridge would give them face enough to set aside their dignity and attend such a gathering — and besides, today’s guest of honor was no ordinary person.
“Brother Zi, your emergence has drawn the gaze of all under heaven. Your cultivation level fills us with admiration. Please grace us with your guidance in the future.” Chen Yuan was plainly seeking to draw closer.
“Brother Chen flatters me. How many formidable individuals exist beneath the heavens today? What am I worth? Setting aside the other races — among the human race’s own outstanding figures, there are already those sufficient to shake the world.” said Zi Tiandu.
“There is no need for such modesty, Brother Zi. How many people in all the world today can contend with you? Even the Sacred Physique whose momentum is at its most intense right now likely cannot compare.” said Kong Linghua.
“In this great age, paragons arise in every direction — a hundred vessels racing the current — and yet Brother Zi is too modest. He should be counted among the very strongest.” A luminous beauty of the Southern Ridge smiled, her bright eyes and white teeth utterly enchanting.
Another Southern Ridge beauty smiled softly and said, “The ten thousand primordial races are about to emerge. I have heard that Yuangu, the Phantom Void Dao, the Celestial Emperor’s Son, Shencan Daoren, and others have already astonished past and present alike. As descendants of the ancient emperors’ bloodline, they must also be unrivaled masters — surely they stand among the strongest of this age.”
With several world-shaking beauties present to liven things, there was nothing dull about the occasion. The atmosphere was vibrant and animated, and everyone conversed with great enjoyment.
“Those few are unfathomably deep — true descendants of the ancient imperial bloodline. Their future achievements are impossible to predict.” Zi Tiandu said.
“Yuangu, the Phantom Void Dao — these few rarely manifest themselves in the world. It is unknown whether they have yet passed the threshold of the Immortal Third Severance of the Dao?” At that moment, even Wu Fei — one of the Four Celestial Women — spoke up, her voice melodious and pleasing, like large and small pearls falling upon a jade plate.
She was radiant and beautiful, her body wreathed in divine radiance. In the Southern Ridge she was called a Celestial Woman, and one could not count the number of her admirers. Ordinarily it was nearly impossible to invite her out, and today could be considered an exception.
Beside her, several of the Southern Ridge’s luminous beauties — each one of national-beauty caliber, whether phoenix daughters of the greatest teachings or princesses of demon royal courts — nonetheless felt themselves somewhat outshone. In their hearts they were unwilling to admit it, but they knew there was a certain distance.
At this moment, even Zi Tiandu — someone who placed cultivation above all else — found himself struck by the beauty of Wu Fei, the Southern Ridge Celestial Woman, and gave her his close attention. Hearing her words, he replied: “Whether they have severed the Dao, I do not know — but if they were to face your human race’s Sacred Physique, it would be no problem at all. They would be able to cut him down.”
“They are so powerful that even the Sacred Physique — the one who in a single rage leveled the Northern Plains — can be killed by them?” A Southern Ridge beauty exclaimed in surprise.
“Naturally. Those are the descendants of the Primordial Emperors — some are even direct children of ancient emperors. The power of their bloodline is beyond what the mind can imagine. Even a human Sacred Physique is not their match.” Xie Siyuan, one of the Southern Ridge’s brilliant young talents, said.
Chen Yuan said, “Brother Zi, we hope you will introduce us in the future. If Yuangu, the Phantom Void Dao, and others of that ancient imperial lineage could be invited here to discuss the Dao and speak of their teachings, it would be a momentous event.”
“Agreed. This time I have come because of the human race’s Sacred Physique. Once I have dealt with him, after I return to the Eastern Wastelands I will extend an invitation to those few to come to the Southern Ridge and meet with everyone here.”
At the scene, there were not only Divine Sons and grandmasters from the demon race, but also outstanding young talents and luminous beauties of the human race. Hearing this, none of them said anything — their expressions simply shifted.
“Please be at ease, everyone. I am only an enemy to the human race’s Sacred Physique. Now that the ten thousand races are emerging into the world, I have no intention of waging war against all the human teachings. I intend to grow closer to everyone here.” Zi Tiandu said.
Zheng — zheng…
A long sword rang out, its vibrations clear and resonant. Someone strummed a blade and sang loudly, forcing his way into the garden. The entire stretch of forest seemed to seethe with energy. An intent to kill surged like a sea; golden battle-blood qi shot toward the heavens.
“Zi Tiandu — you came here for me, did you not? How could I not accompany you? Today — I will kill you!”