In what era the Undying Celestial Emperor had been born was impossible to say — for even in the Primordial Age, he had already been a legend, the sole divine being revered in the hearts of all ten thousand clans.

What manner of beings would his subordinates be? Even a moment’s thought was enough to make one’s scalp tighten. These were figures comparable to divine generals who had descended from the ancient heavens — and the three of them were now fighting against one such existence.

“To hell with all that! Do you think we’re still living in the age of myth? That era ended long ago — your bones should have rotted clean through by now! Just because the Undying Celestial Emperor carved his divine patterns on you, you think you’re something? Put you up against the Ruthless Man Emperor’s weapon, and you’ll still be ground to dust!” Duan De snarled, one arm torn away, blood streaming everywhere, a ghastly and wretched sight.

The Old Blind Man was even worse off — he had taken the first blow, a black claw punching clean through his chest, front and back visible through the wound, very nearly torn apart entirely.

The ancient Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar shook once, and the void immediately imploded, opening into a black abyss that swallowed and breathed dark light, drawing in energy from all ten directions. It locked its aim onto the creature battling Ye Fan.

In the center of the fray, two figures clashed with savage intensity — like two bolts of lightning entangled with each other, too fast for the eye to follow, brutal and overbearing, powerful and fearsome.

Ye Fan was deeply shaken. The body he now inhabited was a Saint’s shell — yet even so, he had not shattered the creature in the first instant. That alone spoke to how formidable the creature’s physical body was.

Truly worthy of being a subordinate of the Primordial Celestial Emperor — like a divine general made flesh.

The one thing that steadied him was the knowledge that this creature had lost all its magical power. It had only its withered body to work with — just as Ye Fan himself was limited to pure physical combat.

The withered body was pitch-black and skeletal. Nine heads — dragon, Pixiu, human, phoenix, and more — were arrayed side by side in a row, strange and monstrous beyond words. Every single skull bore a pair of cold, malevolent eyes.

A black divine ring encircled it — its greatest asset. The ring negated fifty percent of the force of Ye Fan’s strikes. Without that, it would inevitably lose to the ancient Saint’s shell, and would have been suppressed long before now.

“BOOM!”

The Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar shuddered. An ancient emperor’s aura spread outward. The creature let out a shrill and piercing cry — ghastly as a malevolent spirit — a sound so unsettling it made every hair rise. Then it leaped away, transforming into a streak of dark light and fleeing.

But the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar — what was that? An extreme Dao Emperor weapon. Even without being awakened, the aura it released was enough to overawe all of creation.

“You think you can run?” Ye Fan shot upward in pursuit, broke through the divine ring, seized the creature’s arm with one hand — the physical body had to be superior in the end.

“Crack!”

The pitch-black arm, dry as old wood, snapped off. It felt heavy as divine metal in the hand — an ordinary cultivator would not even have been able to lift it.

A shrill, agonized shriek. The creature launched itself skyward, seized with absolute terror at the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar, desperate to break free and escape.

But in its desperation, it overreached — surging straight toward the Wushi Platform. In ordinary circumstances this place was forbidden ground: without Emperor jade in hand, any creature who drew near would inevitably meet their end there.

“BOOM!”

A curtain of chaos-energy descended, threaded through with a tapestry of Dao markings, and on the spot, the creature was ground to powder — reduced to a patch of black ash that dissipated into the air.

The three of them stared, wide-eyed and speechless. Wushi Emperor’s might swallowed mountains and rivers; his divine authority capped all of creation. The Dao markings here were beyond imagination — a body like that, obliterated without the slightest hesitation, without the faintest trace of suspense.

Cold sweat soaked Ye Fan through and through. Even this Saint’s shell would not be enough. A Saint who had reached the peak of that cultivation could not withstand even a single strand of Dao marking here. The name of Wushi truly was enough to crush ten thousand ages beneath it.

The Old Blind Man and Duan De each let out a muffled groan. Dark energy had invaded their bodies, burrowing deep into flesh and blood, impossible to expel. Their entire bodies had turned pitch-black. The situation was dire.

“After a lifetime of hunting prey, I’ve finally been caught myself by something truly formidable in a tomb. This is Primordial death-venom — removing it completely will be no small thing.” Duan De’s body was drenched in cold sweat.

The Old Blind Man’s complexion had also turned completely dark. Even someone as powerful as he was could not resist — his flesh had nearly withered away, a decaying, rotting energy having taken up residence within him.

“Don’t we still have the Medicine King?” Ye Fan pried open the pitch-black severed arm he had torn away, and inside, he found the Medicine King — lush and fragrant, releasing a halo of hazy light.

“What a shame. A priceless and rare Medicine King, obtained at such great cost — and we have to eat it right now.” Duan De’s expression was pained.

“If you don’t want to eat it, hand it all to me.” The Old Blind Man took several large bites, practically choking himself as he forced them down, eyes rolling back as he swallowed hard.

“You old fossil — you’re throwing pearls before swine. What a waste.” The chubby fellow lunged and wrested away the other half, also forcing several bites down in quick succession.

One had to give the rare Medicine King its due — its effects were extraordinary. Shortly after being swallowed, it dissolved into a stream of divine fluid that spread through their bodies. Both men blazed with blinding divine radiance — like two small suns igniting — rapidly burning away every trace of the dark energy.

Their bones crackled and popped in rapid succession as their physical forms were swiftly repaired, gleaming with treasure-light, while simultaneously making their bodies younger and more vigorous.

“A Medicine King — one in hand is the same as an extra life. We absolutely must find a way to pick the few remaining ones from the platform. Even if we don’t catch that Undying Divine Phoenix Herb that runs around on its own, it’s already been worth it!” Duan De was practically drooling.

The Old Blind Man frowned in thought. “Something is off. That creature was clearly devoid of all life force — effectively a ghost-corpse. Even a divine medicine would have been useless to it, with no chance of restoring its vitality. So why did it risk everything to steal it, even daring to approach the forbidden ground of the platform?”

“Could it be that it wanted to bring it to some more powerful, still-living ancient being?” Ye Fan said.

Those words struck all three of them with a simultaneous shudder. The being with nine heads had been formidable enough to bring Duan De and the Old Blind Man to the edge of death — and there was something alive out there that was even stronger?

After a long silence, they could only grip the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar and keep it ready at all times — prepared to unleash it at any moment and kill first, ask questions later, at the first sign of anything amiss.

The great ancient tomb stood tall, endless chaos-energy cascading from it, making approach almost impossible. To scale it was even more out of the question — the void before the platform was completely locked down.

“Whatever it takes, I’m going up there to find the truth. I refuse to leave without answers.” Ye Fan said in a low, firm voice.

The three circled around the platform, studying every angle carefully, trying to determine where an ascent might be most feasible. When they came around to one side, the space ahead blazed brilliantly — in front of them, a heap of divine source blocks gleamed with a blinding radiance.

“A living creature escaped from this… and it wouldn’t still be nearby, would it?”

“So close to the platform…”

“Wait — there are characters here.”

Before the cracked divine source, they found a line of ancient characters carved into the stone wall: Gu Tianshu is willing to guard Wushi Emperor’s mausoleum for a lifetime.

“Gu Tianshu… Is that not the invincible Saint from seventy or eighty thousand years ago?!” the Old Blind Man exclaimed, his composure cracking. He had made a study of certain great figures throughout the northern domain’s history, and this name was among them.

“It was him…” Ye Fan fell into a daze. The first time he had entered the Purple Mountain, at the entrance, he had discovered dozens of names carved into the stone. The most powerful among them had been Gu Tianshu — his imprint there had surpassed even that of the divine king Jiang Taixu.

Gu Tianshu — a Saint of the distant ancient age — had found his way here, and yet had willingly chosen to serve as Wushi’s guardian. It was nothing short of astonishing.

“There are traces of a battle over here!” Duan De called out. The imprints were unmistakable — the shockwaves of the clash had struck the stone walls and had not yet fully dissipated, leaving the stone etched with visible patterns that made one’s heart lurch.

The three inspected them and their expressions all changed. This had been a fight between Saint-level beings — and it had taken place right here. The very thought defied comprehension.

“Looking at these traces, this occurred approximately two thousand years ago,” the Old Blind Man said, running his fingers over the stone wall as he made his assessment.

“Today I fought the Great Sage, the Battle Ape, and suffered defeat in the end. In consideration that he came bearing Emperor jade, I permitted him to take three Medicine Kings and depart.” Gu Tianshu’s writing again — clear and vivid upon the stone wall.

All three were stunned. They looked at one another and paled.

“Two thousand years ago, Gu Tianshu was still alive — he had endured through to the present age. If word of this got out, it would shake the entire world!”

“The Great Sage, the Battle Ape — that must be the Fighting Saint Buddha of the Western Desolation. He actually came to the Ancient Emperor’s Mountain!”

What had transpired here? An ancient Saint from seventy or eighty thousand years ago — Gu Tianshu — had survived to the present. The divine source liquid used to seal living beings could only be refined by the ancient emperors themselves. Did that mean Wushi was still alive?

And yet he had written that he was willing to guard Wushi’s mausoleum for a lifetime. Was the great emperor upon the platform truly dead?

The Fighting Saint Buddha of Xumi Mountain had come here — beyond all of their expectations. That was a Great Sage, one whose magical power could shake the heavens.

At the same time, Ye Fan finally understood something: the Great Black Dog had spoken many times of its intense dislike of monkeys. Two thousand years ago, the Fighting Saint Buddha had visited this place — and had in all likelihood given the dog a thorough thrashing.

They searched carefully, but found no further traces. Gu Tianshu had long since disappeared, his whereabouts unknown.

“BOOM!”

Ten thousand zhang of chaos-waterfall crashed down. Ye Fan’s bones groaned under the strain as he pressed forward in the grueling effort to climb the platform.

This place had become a small world unto itself. The platform seemed to soar into the nine heavens, lofty and towering.

The Old Blind Man and Duan De remained within Ye Fan’s Golden Sacred Domain, together driving the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar, blocking the chaos-waterfalls and Dao markings.

Without that, even something as formidable as the Saint’s shell would have been ground into a paste of blood — this was a place no human strength could trespass, capable of erasing even a Saint of the ancient era.

“BOOM!”

All around them was blinding white. Chaos surged like ten thousand armies charging at once, crushing down on Ye Fan until every step was a monumental struggle — he was very nearly at his limit.

Worse still, the Emperor’s array patterns had appeared — branded densely into the void, spread out like an immense web, blocking the path forward.

Without the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar, a Saint here would have died dozens, perhaps hundreds of times over. These were true, flawless Emperor markings — Wushi’s killing formation.

The ancient emperors, after their own physical selves, were known above all for their weapons and their formations — these were the greatest treasures sought by those who came after. Mastering even a single corner of an Emperor’s weapon or an Emperor’s formation was enough to dominate the world.

And now, Wushi’s Dao markings had surfaced. No matter how great a Saint of the human race, they would have been destroyed by them without question. There could be no doubt.

It had to be said: the Ruthless Man Emperor stood supreme across all of antiquity and into the future. Without anyone driving it at all, the Demonic Jar had begun to ring on its own, countering a formation capable of slaying the gods of the ancient heavens.

“This won’t do — if we keep going, we’ll die!” the Old Blind Man said.

The Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar could awe all of creation — it would not be destroyed by Wushi’s Dao markings. But the battle between the two — the indirect, time-spanning clash of two ancient emperors — was generating shockwaves that no one in proximity could survive.

Even with the Jar as their shield, it was not enough. The ripples released by this lesser confrontation between the powers of two ancient emperors across the void of time — there was no person alive who could withstand them.

Ye Fan placed all six Emperor jade pieces atop his head — yet even that was not enough to quiet Wushi’s formation. With every step further upward, the power intensified twofold.

“Eighty-one steps remaining. At most we can take three more — this is simply not something human strength can contend with. How unimaginably powerful were the ancient emperors?!”

They were close to despair. The formation was only barely engaged at one corner, and even with the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Jar clearing the way, they could not press further. If they persisted, they would be executed right where they stood.

“O Wushi Emperor,” the Old Blind Man said, dropping to his knees in all sincerity, “the human race faces a great calamity. Please — awaken. Save the people of the human race. Pacify the chaos of the eight wastes. Overawe the ten thousand clans.”

Ye Fan held the snow-white crystalline skull in his palm. Then he withdrew the crescent moon-shaped jade pendant and said, “I seek an audience with Wushi Emperor.”

“RUMBLE…”

Something astonishing happened. The ten thousand zhang of chaos-waterfall that had been crashing down pulled back and receded. The dense, intricate Dao markings blurred and faded.

“It’s because of that crescent moon jade pendant!” Duan De said, struck with awe.

And finally, step by step, they ascended. They climbed to the summit of the platform, and at the very center — seated there, back turned to them — was a figure of immense and majestic presence. Black hair, thick and lustrous, cascaded down like a waterfall.

From a world where all stood against him, to a world fallen entirely silent. Such was the sorrow of an ancient emperor — loneliness stretching across ten thousand ages, the solitude of an entire lifetime spent alone.

The female Saint’s skull in Ye Fan’s hand was luminous and pristine white, and from it a strange and delicate energy flowed. At the same moment, the moon pendant grew heavy and sank downward, coming to rest upon the skull. A faint ripple, small and frail yet saturated with emotion, spread outward.

“I… only ever wished to follow your footsteps. Even if my entire life was spent looking up at you from behind.”

A delicate spiritual imprint trembled. The female Saint had been gone for who knew how many tens of thousands of years — yet that single thread of her impression had never been willing to fade. It was the wish she had guarded until the very moment of her death.