Zi Tiandu’s entire body was suffused with violet radiance. Every single strand of his hair was glowing; violet energy shot ten thousand zhang toward the sky. With a great roar, the entire small realm shook and trembled.
This punch dominated all the heavens and earth, carrying the young lord of the Divine Spirit Valley’s unstoppable momentum — spirit soaring like a rainbow, violet robes snapping in the wind. The battle-energy he radiated surged like a great sea.
But Ye Fan’s divine valor was extraordinary. Having reached this level of cultivation, he feared no figure at the second tier of the Immortal Platform whatsoever — retreat was absolutely impossible.
This strike shook the heavens and earth. When the two people collided, they released a radiance like the collapse of the star canopy. This place became the eye of a storm, rapidly spreading outward in all directions.
Great swathes of blood rain flew through the air. Zi Tiandu’s hair hung loose and disheveled; his entire arm was drenched in fresh blood. His right fist was deformed, convulsing beyond his control — sent flying sideways.
This single strike decided everything. His physical body was in absolute disadvantage. The fist was nearly shattered; the searing pain had twisted his features completely, leaving behind a great bloodstain.
There had always been those who spoke of how formidable the Sacred Physique was, how its physical shell had no rival. But as an inheritor of the primordial royal tribe, Zi Tiandu had always been self-assured — and he had never encountered such a constitution before, never believing any person could be spoken of in the same breath as the royal tribe. Now he had paid a terrible price to personally experience this unyielding hardness.
Even the physical body of the primordial royal tribe could not withstand the Sacred Physique’s physical shell. This was the most visceral and direct understanding everyone present arrived at, and in their subconscious, a chill rose: could even the blood of the ancient emperors withstand it?
Ye Fan pressed his advantage and attacked relentlessly. After activating the Movement Script, he arrived in close range like a bolt of lightning — and again deployed the Human King Seal, sending it crashing down like a golden cliff face.
A drumbeat arose — dull and heavy, like peals of heavenly thunder. In Zi Tiandu’s hands appeared a great dragon-hide drum. Every time it was struck, a burst of Dao-light rushed outward.
Boom!
In the end, it came surging forth like mountains overturned and seas overturned — magnificent and overpowering — billowing endlessly forward, an infinite tide of violet crashing outward, cutting off Ye Fan’s path.
This was a form of ancient Dao-music of the heavens. Zi Tiandu used his mystical power — his understanding of the Dao — to block Ye Fan. After one round of physical collision, that was enough; he had already suffered greatly and had no wish to let his opponent close in again.
Crack, crack!
His bones cracked and popped. The twisted right fist’s joints were displaced, but rapidly regrew into their original shape, recovering to peak condition.
“Dong, dong…”
The heavenly drum shook — like ten thousand cavalry charging at a gallop. Wave after wave of violet surged toward Ye Fan. The drumbeat shook the sky; each single strand was capable of obliterating a powerful opponent.
The violet sound waves seemed to carry the will to shatter heaven and earth, setting Ye Fan’s head spinning — this was a terrifying secret treasure, its destructive power staggering.
The dragon-hide drum: crafted as a weapon modeled on the weapon of one Primordial Ancestral King, replicated and forged, its power extraordinary. At times a sudden strike could directly destroy an opponent’s primordial spirit and achieve instantaneous killing.
At this close a distance, had it been anyone other than Ye Fan facing these sound waves, the person would likely have perished on the spot.
“Open for me!”
Ye Fan’s right hand was the Human King Seal; his left hand became the Heaven-Overturning Seal. He shattered every Dao-trace and struck toward that great violet dragon-hide drum, seeking to punch through it.
“Dong!”
A dull drumbeat. Zi Tiandu’s ferocious energy erupted outward; his eyes were like cold lightning. He struck the drum forcefully, sending tens of thousands of sound waves crashing outward, burying everything ahead.
And above him, the violet ancient pagoda stirred the nine heavens — thunder rolled in waves — raining down thick streams of violet energy like ten thousand violet great swords, slashing down at Ye Fan.
Boom!
Ye Fan’s path was cut off. His mind grew agitated, his primordial spirit unsteady. He nearly was sent flying by those two ancient secret treasures — his body rocked and swayed.
Beside them, Chen Yuan, Liu Yunjie, Kong Linghua, and Xie Siyuan were sent tumbling backward, hearts leaping with shock. Privately, more than a few of them were hoping — hoping that Zi Tiandu would win a great victory, for they had criticized Ye Fan just a moment ago and feared he had heard them.
The drumbeat shook the sky, shattering the void around Ye Fan directly to pieces. The violet sound waves thundered like ten thousand cavalry trampling onward — terrifying without boundary.
“Om!”
Ye Fan uttered a great shout — using a true word to counter the ancient sound. This single cry caused the souls of every cultivator within the entire small realm to tighten, as if each had been struck a heavy blow.
One could well imagine how terrifying the battle in the center of it all was. Behind Ye Fan, a demon god appeared that looked identical to himself — a Dharma image that pressed upon the heavens and earth, its roar shattering the entire garden.
Once the Buddhist true word sounded, it was as though the heavens were first separated from the earth — here, the fire, water, earth, and wind cycled and turned in four directions. A terrifying beam of light bored into the violet energy and struck the dragon-hide drum.
Dong!
A world-shaking impact rang out. This time the drumbeat was not produced by Zi Tiandu himself — it was Ye Fan who had struck it. A torrential outpouring of divine power erupted and surged.
Zi Tiandu cried out, his entire body shaking. Under the sound of “Om,” the dragon-hide drum was pierced through. This was a secret treasure of tremendous power — even living fossils and supreme grandmasters could not damage it in the slightest.
Yet today, a single cry from Ye Fan had cracked it apart. This secret treasure had become history — the hide of the drum caved inward; its radiance dimmed. And even more terrifying: it was still being destroyed.
The “Om” true word had been transformed by Ye Fan through the Scripture of the Fighting Character, becoming a Battle-Fist Sacred Sound suited to his own operation. The power on display here spoke for itself. Its momentum had not yet fully dissipated when Zi Tiandu’s body began to shake violently, fissures appearing across it one after another.
“What?!”
Those watching from afar all cried out in shock. The human Sacred Physique left everyone horrified — a single great cry was enough to inflict devastating damage on a great enemy.
“Pff!”
Zi Tiandu opened his mouth and coughed out a great mouthful of fresh blood. The ancient pagoda above his head swayed, and from it tens of thousands of streams of violet energy cascaded down — finally severing the residual shock-wave of the “Om” sound.
“You even broke through my dragon-hide drum…” Zi Tiandu retreated, staring blankly at the shattered drum in his hands — only a single corner of dragon hide remained.
He had attempted every method, striking it with every manner of weapon, and had not managed to damage it so much as a hair. And now, a single shout had cracked it open. How terrifying must that be?
Wu Fei, the Southern Ridge Celestial Woman, unconsciously pressed a hand to her own guqin. She had entered the Dao through music, and understood more deeply than anyone how terrifying the exchange of sonic arts just now had been. She was struck with astonishment at the power within Ye Fan’s single cry.
Chen Yuan, Xie Siyuan, and the others had all gone pale. They could not help thinking — if it were they themselves standing in that battle — what would the result have been?
Boom!
Ye Fan blazed like a great furnace, burning with a sky full of radiance. His immense aura surged outward, making it impossible to breathe — no matter how far away one stood, hearts could not help but race.
Several of the Southern Ridge’s luminous beauties went pale with shock. They were not unaware of Ye Fan’s power, but witnessing it firsthand as spectators made the sight even more chilling.
Not a single person did not retreat. Even the many observers who had arrived later all felt their hair stand on end, retreating one by one to the farthest edge of the horizon.
“Is this the Sacred Physique?”
“It is him — he came here alone, to take the young lord of the Divine Spirit Valley’s life!”
…
The people were shaken. How formidable was the primordial royal tribe — who in this age was willing to provoke them? Zi Tiandu was not on the level of the Phantom Void Dao, Yuangu, or the Celestial Emperor’s Son — he was not of the ancient emperor’s bloodline — yet he was still more than enough to overawe the entire world. In these past ten-odd years, he had made his move several times, and every occasion had been earth-shattering. Some speculated that he was already close to severing the Dao.
Yet Ye Fan dared to come alone to kill him. This kind of dominance left everyone thunderstruck.
The heavens and earth thundered!
Ye Fan broke through the sky with a single hand — still without drawing his weapon — relying only on his two fists to charge at Zi Tiandu. His golden battle-energy submerged this place, making it a boiling sea.
Zi Tiandu felt an immense pressure. The person before him was too terrifying. Could it truly be possible that he was on par with the Phantom Void Dao and the others — possessing bloodline power of an equivalent level?
A shudder passed through his heart. For the first time, he truly understood: the human Sacred Physique was far more terrifying than he had imagined.
Boom!
Zi Tiandu fought Ye Fan with all his strength. The ancient pagoda above his head swayed; infinite violet energy like a great river crashed in all eight directions — the void like a torn painting, unable to hold.
“Clang!”
Ye Fan used his fist to directly clash with the violet pagoda, using his physical shell to directly contest the other’s Great Dao mystical power. Every punch carried a surging golden battle-energy of the heavens.
This was a world-shaking duel. In the blink of an eye, the two had exchanged more than a hundred blows. The garden had long since been destroyed, shaking everyone who watched.
Within this small realm, every person present had a formidable background. Grandmaster-rank figures were numerous; outstanding young brilliants and beauties of the Southern Ridge were many as well. All of them had status and standing — and all were shaken to their core.
“Clang!”
When the battle reached five hundred exchanges, Ye Fan unleashed the Six Paths of Reincarnation Fist, shattering the void. The topmost tier of the violet pagoda cracked and fractured — and then, with a boom, it exploded.
“What?!” Zi Tiandu was staggered. One tier of his five-tiered ancient pagoda had been destroyed — the shock to him was immense.
This weapon had been refined for him by an elder within the tribe. Nothing short of a true king could so much as nudge it — its defensive power was extraordinary. A person at the second tier of the Immortal Platform, even if they touched the seventh forbidden domain, could not destroy it.
But reality was astonishing. Without drawing a weapon — relying on nothing but a pair of fists — Ye Fan had shattered it.
Golden battle-energy surged like the sea, flooding down again. Zi Tiandu cried out, coughing up a great mouthful of blood, and went flying backward carrying the four remaining tiers of the ancient pagoda.
“The primordial royal tribe is nothing more than this!”
Ye Fan advanced, like a golden war god walking through boundless sacred light. His entire body blazed with undying divine radiance — sacred and solemn — making all who looked upon him unable to help but tilt their heads upward in reverence.
This single exchange dealt a massive blow to Zi Tiandu — nearly destroying the conviction of his certain victory. A human Sacred Physique, using nothing but a pair of fists, had shattered his ancient pagoda. He was left chilled to the bone.
“Kill!” Zi Tiandu went berserk. Having fought to this point, there was no longer any retreat. Even fleeing was no longer possible.
Boom! Ye Fan’s even more domineering and ferocious punch came crashing forward. He stood within boundless sacred light — nearly like a divine being — descending from the heavens, toppling and smashing all in his path. With a single punch he reduced the last four remaining tiers of the violet pagoda to powder and ash.
“Ahh…” Zi Tiandu let out a wretched cry as his body went flying sideways, streams of blood pouring from his mouth one after another. This time the injury was absolutely severe — the power of the Sacred Physique was immense. With the ancient pagoda’s protection gone, the force of that blow had been overwhelming.
Ye Fan was faster than lightning; without a moment’s pause he followed — one punch after another striking outward, boundless sacred light filling every inch of space in the heavens and earth.
Zi Tiandu raised both arms to block and immediately shattered them. Even his chest nearly exploded. His body was covered crisscross with fractures too numerous to count, blood spraying outward.
“Do you still remember a young man of the human race called Dongfang Ye? You hunted every last one of them to their deaths. Did you ever imagine this day would come?” Ye Fan said.
“Of course I remember. Was he not just some uncivilized wild man? He was difficult enough to kill, but in the end he was cornered at Falling Eagle Cliff, where his blood splashed the stone walls.” Zi Tiandu laughed — a ruthless, cold laugh. At this point he had nothing left to fear, and he opened his mouth and spat out another great mouthful of fresh blood.
Falling Eagle Cliff — a place so treacherous that even eagles landing there would plummet, a place of ill omen where many bizarre things had occurred. Even the primordial tribes were unwilling to approach it.
“An uncivilized wild man — is that your assessment?!” Ye Fan gritted his teeth. The blood of battle boiled throughout his entire body. The upper portion of his robes exploded apart as he struck with his full power.
Zi Tiandu laughed cruelly. “Just a wild man — what of it that I killed him?” He knew today would likely not end well for him; he had utterly thrown caution to the wind.
At this moment, all Ye Fan could do was swing his fist — to use matchless force to shatter every obstruction, to trample this person underfoot — only then could he wash away the resentment of those lost to the past.
All manner of weapons in the sky continued to be destroyed one after another. Ye Fan’s killing reached a frenzy. Seizing his opportunity, he tore both of Zi Tiandu’s arms clean from his body — even as they regenerated — drenching everything in fresh blood.
Boom!
“Ahh…”
The next instant, from high above, Ye Fan’s foot descended — with an overwhelming, crushing force he stomped downward, bringing his entire weight vertically crashing down upon Zi Tiandu’s chest.
Pff!
A scene soaked in blood. Ye Fan came stamping down with Zi Tiandu beneath him. A single stomp shattered his chest into pieces, the foot driving through to the ground below.
“The primordial royal tribe is nothing more than this!” Ye Fan clasped his hands behind his back and looked down upon him from above — destroying every last shred of Zi Tiandu’s confidence and dignity.