“Woof, woof…”
A dog’s bark rang out from within the crowd, jolting many of the ancient clan members awake from their stupor — and chaos erupted across Qixia Plain, a scene of utter disarray.
A large black dog had latched onto the arm of the young Daoist who had earlier called himself “Heaven-Piercing” — an arm thicker than the average man’s thigh — and was now gnawing away with bared fangs while the young Daoist cursed and hollered without pause.
“Whose dog is this, running around loose and biting people?!”
“Woof!”
“Demonic mutt — I have no old grudge with you and no new enmity, so why are you biting me?”
“What did you just say — that the Human Race’s Holy Body, after severing the Dao, would slay Yuangu like… like what?” The Black Emperor bared his teeth, displaying a mouthful of snow-white fangs gleaming with cold light.
“Like… butchering a dog… Ow, damn, that stings! Let go of me!” The burly Heaven-Piercing Daoist was hopping on one foot, shaking his arm wildly.
The large black dog leaped onto him and bit furiously, its barking filling the air — onlookers were torn between laughter and tears. The battlefield was steeped in tension, yet over here a dog was barking to the heavens, a full-scale man-and-dog war unfolding before them.
The evening glow fell across Qixia Plain — pitted and cratered, gouged with deep trenches and great rifts. Beneath the blood-red sunset, it looked especially ruined and desolate, cold and bleak.
“The Yuan Emperor struck down his most powerful enemy on this ground, and from that attained the Dao. You are his eighth-generation grandson, with his imperial blood flowing in your veins — why can you not rise up and slay your enemy?!”
An Ancestral King of Primordial Lake was roaring, his voice reverberating across the entire plain — causing every last person to tremble. Those words were imbued with the might of thunder — like the laws of the Heavenly Dao rumbling through them!
The human cultivators especially felt a chill. While the Ten Thousand Clans’ Great Assembly had established early agreements that the Saints would not manifest their divine powers, who could guarantee they would truly refrain from acting?
At this moment, Ancestral Kings from various clans were among the spectators on Qixia Plain — filling those who cared for Ye Fan and held hope for him with a sense of deepening foreboding.
Ye Fan’s heart tightened. Was the Ancestral King of Primordial Lake trying to awaken Yuangu’s fighting spirit — or was the hidden intent a warning to himself not to strike? Was this a death threat?
This was a battle to the death. A pact had been established before the decisive confrontation: no one was permitted to interfere. Everything was to be determined by strength alone — the victor would live; the defeated would not.
The sunset spread its glow, pulling Ye Fan’s shadow out long behind him. His footsteps carried uncommonly far across the empty battlefield — as though the footfalls of death itself were echoing through the silence.
“Ahhhh…”
Yuangu let out a fierce and anguished cry. His black hair thrashed like wild grass. He hauled himself upright, standing rigid — fissures running through the space between his brows, blood seeping ceaselessly. His Celestial Platform had been nearly shattered, half of his divine soul destroyed.
“I have lost… but I am not resigned to it,” he snarled in a low, hoarse voice. His thick, dark hair hung loose, shrouding half his face. The eyes that had been like a black sun now looked hollow and empty — he resembled a demonic sovereign lurking in wait.
“Resignation will not change the outcome,” said Ye Fan, pressing forward. Wreathed in radiance from head to toe, he was like a Heavenly Emperor descending to the mortal realm — his aura supremely imposing.
“I have lost on the road to Dao attainment. There is no hope for me in this lifetime. Yet I, who stand at the third Celestial tier having severed the Dao, can still kill you,” Yuangu said with a desolate laugh.
Everyone was taken aback, uncertain what he meant. It was as though there was something hidden beneath those words. Ye Fan was briefly startled as well.
“As the eighth-generation grandson of the Yuan Emperor, standing at the third Celestial tier with the Dao severed, I was still defeated by you. Do you think me too weak?” Yuangu’s voice was low and heavy, filled with a sense of loss. “I sought to attain the Dao, and I challenged you to a duel — would I then choose to suppress you with a realm advantage? The blood of the Yuan Emperor flows within me. I have my own dignity.”
Everyone was stunned — had Yuangu been suppressing his own realm? Had he engaged the Human Race’s Holy Body in a fair contest at the peak of the second Celestial tier?
Ye Fan was equally taken aback.
Yuangu had regarded this battle as a crucial step on his road to attaining the Dao — and had not made use of his Dao-severing power? Ruthless and cold as he was, who could have imagined he possessed such resolve, such tenacity?
“Having cast aside all, forgotten every kin and companion, reborn into this era with but a single purpose — to attain the Dao. It was my one remaining hope, my sole goal… and now… it is gone,” Yuangu murmured. A tear rolled down his face, bearing a trace of grief.
The road to Dao attainment — a path without feeling. Cultivators must let go of so much — and for one like him, sealed away since the ancient era and only now emerging, there would be far, far more to tell.
“Without hope for the Dao, death is my only destination,” Yuangu said, his voice cold and resolute, filled with an air of absolute finality. His black hair all cascaded forward, concealing his entire face. “Yet I would bring you along with me — I have no wish to leave my clan with too much trouble.”
Ye Fan listened, then calmly opened his mouth: “Allow me to write the final sentence of your life.”
“The glory of the Ancient Emperor’s bloodline endures forever. As a descendant of the Yuan Emperor, allow me to show you what true Dao-severing power looks like!” Yuangu set aside his grief and swept away his faltering spirit. The whole of his essence, energy, and spirit surged upward at once — as though he had become a different person.
“Clang, clang…”
In this moment, chain after chain of divine energy erupted from Yuangu’s body — visible to all, dazzling and resplendent — chains of order, lines of divine principle!
This was true Dao-severing power. In this moment he was like one reborn through fire — all chains of order connected to his form like so many feathers of a phoenix, mysterious and uncanny.
“Clatter, clatter!”
The chains of order resonated, linking into a unified whole. The battle energy within Yuangu’s body rolled and surged like a tide — like a godly child adorned with phoenix plumes, radiating hundreds of millions of rays of brilliance.
His heart held no more hope. His thoughts drifted to Taikoo, and he held no further attachment to this world. He recalled his kin and those most precious feelings — and resolved to die. He asked only for one final radiant battle, to slay his enemy, and then end himself.
“Let us fight — one battle without reservation!” Yuangu let out a cry of grief and fury. Heaven and earth shook. Every strand of his hair rose into the air — like a demonic god, he surged forward in a killing charge.
“As you wish — one final radiant battle!” Ye Fan roared in answer, pushing his battle power to its absolute limit, without holding back a single drop of reserve.
“Boom!”
Their fists met. Brilliance blazed for ten thousand zhang, drowning heaven and earth in a single earth-shaking, world-shaking crash!
The shockwave swept across the earth — a visible wave of force rushed outward in every direction with a thunderous roar. The wilderness at the horizon crumbled range by range into powder, reduced to scorched earth!
This was a true battle of Dao-severing might — staking their lives, holding nothing back. Both men fought drenched in blood, sun and moon dimming, heaven and earth losing color, mountains and rivers shattering.
Ye Fan fought Yuangu with everything he had — every divine power and principle deployed at once — a battle of life and death, the blood within his body seething.
The Dao-severing Yuangu was far more terrifying than before. Chain after chain of order divine energy clattered and rang through the heavens — every penetrating strike drew a mouthful of golden sacred blood from Ye Fan’s lips. This was the power of principle.
Both men battled on — heaven darkening and earth going dim — far more ferocious than not long before. Blood splattered freely as they fought through it soaked to the bone.
The divine chains clattered and resounded, linked to Yuangu’s frame — he was like a celestial phoenix, wreathed in crimson mist, standing beneath eternal divine light.
In the void he constructed his own realm of principle, forming a cage of his own making — growing ever more brilliantly luminous. Every chain of principle he forged sang with Dao-song that rang through the heavens.
“My Dao turns once — a hundred years pass in the blink of an eye!” Yuangu let out a great roar, finally unleashing his own Dao.
“Pfft!”
Blood-light flashed — unavoidable, inescapable. A crimson divine chain pierced straight through Ye Fan’s body, nailing him in place within the void. Golden blood scattered outward. In that moment, Ye Fan felt something like a force of life gush from within him, draining away along the divine chain — as though a hundred years of his life had been stolen in an instant.
In the sky, lights of every kind flew dancing — the most fundamental essence of life, setting both men aglow as though they were immortal beings locked in combat. Brilliant and gorgeous.
“My Dao turns twice — youth is stripped away, ten thousand years of flowing waters, heroes turned to dust.” Yuangu roared again. This time, ten crimson divine chains surged forward — no retreat, no evasion.
“Pfft”… “Pfft”…
Ten chains of order pierced through Ye Fan — every one of them stained with blood. He was like one nailed to a cross, unable to move — with only blood flowing from his wounds.
Time seemed to rush by in a blur. Ye Fan’s heart was shaken to its core. He felt himself aging — was this the power of time? He refused to believe it!
“Even if the earth severs my path and the heavens curse my body — neither can grind me away. And your Dao — will fare no differently!” Ye Fan roared. His body blazed with boundless light. A golden Taiji circle appeared — his divine form — billowing with the breath of the Great Dao.
At the same moment, the green lotus, the Celestial King standing above the nine heavens, rivers and mountains in magnificent splendor, the golden divine sea — a multitude of extraordinary visions emerged simultaneously, transforming into a chart of heaven and earth’s Dao — as though opening a world anew!
“Boom!”
The cosmos shattered. All ten chains of order snapped one by one, dissolving into streams of flowing light that were extinguished in the void. Ye Fan burst free of his shackles and let out a wild roar — mountains and rivers trembled throughout. The essence of ten directions surged in to replenish his depleted spirit.
His divine form emerged. His visions briefly merged into one — crashing Yuangu backward, sending him coughing great mouthfuls of blood, every chain of order severed completely.
In all directions — silence. Not a sound to be heard. Everyone was shaken to the core. Even the Dao-severing power of the Ancient Emperor’s bloodline had been unraveled — Yuangu had finally suffered a complete and utter defeat. Even pouring out everything, it was not enough.
Yet Ye Fan did not emerge unscathed — Yuangu’s Dao had wounded his foundation. He would need some time to recuperate and heal. What had just passed was incredibly close to the edge — he had nearly been ground away entirely.
“One final battle — if I lose I perish forever; if I win, I drag you into Dao Dissolution with me,” Yuangu said, walking forward step by step, his expression devoid of all feeling — yet unable to conceal that faint trace of desolation.
He still had one final card to play!
“Summon the Yuan Emperor — awaken the bloodline!” He spoke each word distinctly, one at a time, his voice rolling out like a thunderclap across heaven and earth — jarring every person’s eardrums with pain.
“No!” The people of Primordial Lake cried out. This was one of the final secret arts from the Yuan Emperor — Yuangu’s current state gave him no power to drive it. To force it would ruin him entirely.
Their clan carried the Yuan Emperor’s blood within them — imbued with fragments of his Great Dao. These could be forcibly extracted and deployed as divine principle!
“Ahhhh…”
Yuangu let out a great cry. His thick black hair shot upward toward the sky in a reverse surge. Every inch of skin began to seep blood — threads upon threads of vital life essence, condensing into a shadow behind him!
“Boom!”
In this moment, the supreme aura of an Ancient Emperor of Taikoo billowed outward — as though crossing the span of uncountable ages to arrive in the present — reigning over the earth once more!
The Yuan Emperor!
Everyone was struck with terror. A dreadful power was in motion — the summoning of the Yuan Emperor, the awakening of the bloodline, successful. A thread of imperial might had returned to the world.
Yuangu howled, shaking mountains and rivers as he surged forward in a killing charge. The blurred figure behind him moved in perfect unison — an irresistible momentum accompanied it, causing many to fall to their knees in prostration on the spot.
Though it was only a shadow, it carried a thread of the Yuan Emperor’s Pressure Aura, with traces of his fragmentary principle within — reaching the very pinnacle of terror.
Having deployed this technique, all the bloodline’s spiritual vitality within Yuangu had been exhausted. Even were he to slay his enemy, there was no path of survival left for him.
Ye Fan found it difficult to move. The blurred phantom of the Yuan Emperor bore down upon the heart, a form of dread rooted in the soul — an experience impossible to put into words. This was a terrifying Aura of Power rooted in the Dao!
In the end, he let his own Dao-voice resonate. Tongue like a divine thunderclap — facing the supreme pressure of the Yuan Emperor’s phantom, his mind went immediately to the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin, and he called upon it to contend.
His hands swept through the air, manifesting the Sacred War Art of Battle. Nine true dragons rose from his palms into the heavens — their dragon-cries shaking the nine skies — pulling an ancient coffin soaring into the vast empyrean, interposing it before the Yuan Emperor’s phantom.
It held!
He had manifested the supreme might of Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin — blocking the Ancient Emperor of Taikoo. An atmosphere beyond all words, as the two stood in opposition.
This was an awe-inspiring scene: nine enormous true dragons traversed the heavens above, and an Ancient Bronze Coffin rang with Dao-song — as though it had existed since before the ages, rising to stand alongside the Yuan Emperor!
Silence fell across the surroundings. Every onlooker held their breath, watching this scene with intense focus — not daring to exhale lest they miss something.
Yet Ye Fan had become too immersed. The Sacred War Art of Battle had been driven to its very limit — every aspect of the Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin’s might brought forth, as though resurrecting the sight itself.
“Rumble!”
In the end, the nine true dragons swept their tails — pulling the ancient coffin soaring into the clear blue sky above, vanishing into the heavens, departing into the outer realm.
Everyone was stupefied — especially Pang Bo. After recovering, he drove his fist down hard in frustration. Too much was as bad as too little.
“Boom!”
Yuangu pressed forward. Killing intent swept across the vast earth. The blurred figure of the Yuan Emperor behind him moved in concert — his Pressure Aura bearing down upon the nine layers of heaven. Impossible to resist. The imperial might of an Ancient Emperor swept all before it.
Ye Fan cried out that things were bad — yet he did not fall into panic. Cold electricity flashed in his eyes. He began to manifest another secret art — the very technique the Black Emperor had imparted. A form of energy from a great emperor of the distant past radiated outward.
“Boom!”
In this moment, it was as though he had transformed into the Wushi Great Emperor — never defeated through an entire lifetime, suppressing the nine heavens and ten earths, looking down upon all beneath heaven. One head of black hair billowed freely, gazing down upon creation.
Ye Fan pressed one enormous hand forward — clashing directly with the phantom of the Yuan Emperor. This was a contest between Ancient Great Emperors across the span of ages — a different kind of showdown!
Everyone trembled, feeling a strange aura — as though two supreme beings, separated by a thousand ages, were locked in opposition, carrying out a supreme confrontation.
“Rumble, rumble…”
Devastating clashes occurred in rapid succession. Yuangu and Ye Fan both coughed great mouthfuls of blood. Lights of every kind flew between them — fragments of the Dao, collapsing, shaking heaven and earth.
“Buzz!”
The Yuan Emperor’s phantom dimmed, on the verge of vanishing. Yuangu’s face turned ashen — he was losing his life force.
This Wushi technique — a root principle from within the Wushi Scripture — just as its name implied, transformed all power into “nothingness” and turned all “momentum” back toward its “origin.”
“Boom!”
Ye Fan struck out with this secret art, pushing the Yuan Emperor’s phantom back — then absorbing it into Yuangu’s own blood. The onlookers were left shaken to their cores, unable to find words.
“Summon the Yuan Emperor — awaken the bloodline!” Yuangu cried out, attempting to repeat this forbidden art.
Yet Ye Fan gave him no opportunity. His left hand deployed the Wushi technique to press the Yuan Emperor’s phantom back down. His right hand formed the Six Paths of Reincarnation Fist — unleashing a strike whose dominance overawed heaven and earth!
“Pfft!”
Blood rained down as Yuangu’s body crumbled inch by inch — fading from the world. Across his face there appeared a complex expression, impossible to decipher. And in the end… it was filled with sorrow.
“I cast aside everything, forgot all kin and all true feeling, came alone to this era for the Dao — yet the hope… is gone.” At last Yuangu spoke with a trace of desolation, a note of grief — and tears actually rolled down his face. He stretched his arms wide, reaching toward a void bereft of all light. Alone, he faced the darkness, and said: “My kin… my true feeling… I am coming back. Returning to the ancient past!”
He dissolved into motes of light — scattered across this expanse of heaven and earth — disappearing forever. A gust of wind passed through, and nothing remained.