The grey mist surged and churned, blotting out the daylight. It radiated a deathly energy, yet was quickly drawn back into the bodies of the several elderly figures. Their death-grey pupils were deeply unsettling, devoid of the fluctuations of human emotion.
People of the Pure Clarity sect appeared, two elderly Daoist priests stepping forward to receive them and escort them into a Daoist sanctuary. Guests of such power naturally merited careful and courteous treatment.
Ye Fan watched from the side, saying nothing, and looked on as they departed. Many people were discussing them — in this age when the essence of heaven and earth had dried up, the Western tradition gathered the power of prayers and veneration as the basis of their cultivation. In an age of the Dharma’s decline, this gave them a considerable advantage.
“Courts and mansions of Qin and Han immortals; lords and ministers’ families of the Liang and Tang. Inside the grotto, a single day passes; in the world outside, a century is already gone. All the people I once knew have departed.”
An elderly Daoist priest murmured to himself, surveying all of Mount Mao. He was tall and slender, wearing a purple-and-gold crown and an eight-trigram robe — a rare sight in this modern era — clearly someone who had long lived in seclusion among the mountains.
Ye Fan was struck with astonishment. There were still true experts in this world. This person was undoubtedly formidable — in all likelihood already a thousand years of age, an anomaly of great rarity in this mortal world.
“Heavens — could that be… the Daoren Qiri? He is still alive? Was it not said he had passed away in seated meditation over a hundred years ago? He must be over twelve hundred years old by now!”
“He is a figure of the highest standing in our world — a renowned great master of divine arts! And even he has appeared!”
Senior figures were shaken, while their disciples and followers were utterly dumbstruck, standing at a distance, not daring to speak, all watching from afar.
The great bell rang out. The gates of the main peak of Mount Mao opened wide, and a group of elderly Daoist priests, upon receiving word, all came out to receive and pay respects to this elder of great eminence.
The appearance of such a figure elevated this gathering to its greatest heights yet. The crowd was in an uproar — without question, this was something to look forward to.
“The presiding master of the Complete Reality school has arrived!”
Someone cried out in alarm, and the sound of drums and music rose again. The Complete Reality school of Daoism commanded fully half of the Daoist world, and in the north it stood supreme. Its presiding master was naturally of the highest standing — few in the world could be placed alongside him.
“The gathering of cultivators has not been held for many years. This time it is extraordinary — the Kunlun presiding master, the Daoren Qiri, the presiding master of the Complete Reality school, and so many other great figures have all come in person.”
The horizon was dyed red by crimson clouds as a cry like a phoenix resounded through the heavens. The patriarch of the Crimson Phoenix lineage had arrived, escorting that clan’s heaven-favored daughter, provoking another great wave of stir and excitement.
Mount Mao, with its billowing rosy haze and swirling mist, its modest peaks elegant and graceful, its waters not deep yet spiritually luminous.
This gathering of cultivators had a tremendous reach. Great numbers of cultivators had come, and the various Daoist palaces, separate courts, and other structures all had people residing within them, nearly filled beyond capacity.
The front and back ridges of Mount Mao, its peak summits and valley gaps, the palaces, Daoist temples, ceremonial halls, and shrines of all sizes and descriptions numbered more than three hundred — truly a magnificent spectacle, yet now overflowing with more people than it could hold.
The stillness was broken. There was much clamor and noise. Those entering and leaving were simply too many — cultivators ranging from those in the Sea of Wheels to those at the great perfection of the Dragon Transformation stage were beyond counting, arriving from countless sects and schools.
Yet Ye Fan seemed detached from all of this, untouched by the surrounding clamor. He stood on a low hill, quietly observing all the people and all the things that had no connection to him.
Thin mist light as gauze, a sunset like a painting, colors vivid and spectacular. He stood motionless, like carved wood or sculpted clay, listening to the Dao-sounds of ancient times, experiencing a sensation of “petals drifting through the air for three thousand li, and the person resting in the Jade Pool on the twelfth tier.”
In the blink of an eye several days passed. Ye Fan watched the sunrise in the morning and admired the colored clouds at dusk, residing in a Daoist sanctuary. Four days later, the gathering of cultivators finally began.
The presiding masters of the various factions had all arrived. This grand assembly was of tremendous scale and stature, with great figures appearing one after another, inspiring boundless anticipation. Numerous young men and women of exceptional talent also appeared, drawing looks of astonishment from all who saw them.
The Palace of Ten Thousand Blessings Ascending to the Nine Heavens — the great palace situated on the main peak of Mount Mao’s sacred ground, the most magnificent and grand of all structures, built after the ascension of the Three Mao Zhenren during the Western Han dynasty.
Before this grand and majestic Daoist palace, there was an extremely open and spacious area. This was the martial training ground opened up personally by the Three Mao Zhenren in their time, protected by powerful Dao traces that made it virtually indestructible.
At the gathering of cultivators, the various sects first engaged in collective discussion of the problem that all of them now faced: with the essence of heaven and earth dried up, how were they to cultivate in the future?
Everyone offered their views, yet no genuine solution presented itself. Something that even the great masters of divine arts of ancient times could not resolve was naturally beyond the power of the present age to eliminate.
The mundane portion of the proceedings passed quickly. What followed was the focal point of everyone’s attention — the great contest. The primary purpose of attending this grand assembly was to observe the strongest experts competing against one another.
The gathering of cultivators, as it was, was an assembly filled with combat and competition. The passionate battles centered primarily on clashes among the younger generation. In ancient times, the various sects had regarded it as an exchange and opportunity for mutual learning — but today it had evolved into outright competition.
Strong figures fought for supremacy, to determine who stood higher and who lower, who was weak and who was strong. Each session had to produce a clear result. The contests grew fiercer year by year, departing further and further from the original spirit of ancient times.
Ye Fan sat hidden at a distance, quietly watching. He himself had come from the Sea of Wheels and the Dao Palace, through the mystery realms, and now looking back upon it all was a different kind of feeling.
Clang, clang…
Sword-light shot into the sky. A palm-length flying sword slashed apart the vault of heaven, dancing and sweeping in all directions. Zhan Yifan of the Immortal Sword sect of Sichuan was an unstoppable force, defeating twelve peers in succession.
“Crossed that threshold — the initial stage of Dragon Transformation. It is truly impossible to believe. Probably not many senior figures of the older generation can suppress him now.” Someone lamented.
Zhan Yifan leaped up and left the training ground. In a single bout, none could stand against the edge of his sword. He advanced round after round, with support from every corner.
On the other side, Long Xiaoqu too was advancing with no one able to stop him, a triumphant march with no check. In his domain, demon energy surged and billowed, purple blood-energy suffused the air, and his tremendous battle power sent shock waves through all directions.
Many young female cultivators’ beautiful eyes shimmered with flickers of astonishment. A figure of such power had a strong possibility of becoming the foremost person of the demon-beast world in the future — revered throughout the world.
There had once been a demon-beast of the older generation, not a great master of divine arts, who had prophesied: this person is no ordinary thing — with a rising prominence and grandeur of bearing, in the future he will soar to the heavens on a single leap, and even the heavens themselves cannot stop him.
“What a pity that the Heavenly Demon Body from the primordial dragon cave of Changbai Mountain did not come. Otherwise, comparing the two would give us a sense of who is the weaker and who the stronger — who will be the foremost figure of the demon-beast world in the future.”
“Indeed. It is unknown why the Changbai lineage has sent no one at all. They say they have sealed the great mountain and forbid any outsider from setting foot within it. Who knows what has happened.”
As people marveled at Long Xiaoqu’s brilliance, they also mentioned another figure of the demon-beast world whose gifts were equally supreme, all of them greatly disappointed that they could not witness this fabled physique in person.
“Long Xiaoqu’s strength lies in his comprehension — his understanding of the Dao runs deeper than that of his peers, surpassing all those of his generation. Even the Heavenly Demon Body, for all the transcendence of its physique, may not necessarily surpass him.”
“Precisely so. Look at the technique he just employed — a move from the Dragon Sparrow God-Slaying Record. Purple energy billowing and surging, thunder resonating through the heavens, clearly having grasped the true meaning and reached the state of perfect mastery.”
Many people exclaimed in astonishment. In the arena, Long Xiaoqu was like an ancient demon-god reawakened — skin of ancient bronze, black hair loose and flying, his bearing imposing and magnificent, his eyes like cold lightning. Taking on thirteen experts simultaneously, he suppressed them all.
Dragon Sparrow purple energy surged and roared, sweeping in all eight directions like a vast purple sea in the act of boiling, swallowing heaven and earth — carving out streak after streak of lightning, the electric light piercingly bright, the rumbling reverberations deafening, the destructive force overwhelming all, suppressing every last person beneath it.
All onlookers gasped in admiration. His Daoist methods ran deep — few among the younger generation of the present age could stand as his equal. Members of his clan had said he bore the bearing of the founding ancestors, a pity only that he was born in the wrong era.
Ye Fan watched quietly, inwardly nodding. Observing this young and powerful figure of the demon-beast world — he was truly extraordinary. Had he been born in the Northern Dipper star domain, he might well have become a truly remarkable person.
Purple energy surged and roared, submerging all ten directions. The thirteen powerful opponents were all suppressed by Long Xiaoqu. He descended from the sky, locks of hair disheveled, his bronze-colored body flashing with a treasure-like radiance, looking supremely powerful.
The many young female disciples of the various sects let out cries of astonishment, their eyes shining with brilliance. This kind of dominance came from deep within his very bones, and beneath the surging demon energy it made all his opponents tremble — inspiring both astonishment and shock, peerless and supreme among his peers.
“Shoo!”
His twin pupils were cold as ice, finding Ye Fan in the crowd, his hostility entirely undisguised as he said quietly: “I want to exchange blows with you.”
Ye Fan shook his head. He could not possibly agree. At the level he had reached, he had no desire to fight — nor did he wish to snuff out a talented figure here.
Long Xiaoqu’s eyes blazed with divine light — tremendously intimidating. He took a great stride forward and directly moved against Ye Fan in the crowd, bringing his full power to bear. The hostility was intense.
His bearing was tall and upright. Fighting with full force like this, the purple blood throughout his body boiled and surged, the demon-god bloodline fully awakened, cracking the vault of heaven. The light of his eyes was terrifying!
Ye Fan was momentarily taken aback. Seeing this kind of presence, he thought of an old acquaintance — the Young Golden-Winged Peng King. Both of them possessed a kind of wild ferocity.
And they both wore everything on their faces, concealing nothing — straightforward and direct. When hostility arose in their hearts, they acted on it immediately.
Yet that supremely gifted young Peng King had perished in the trial set by the ancient great sage of distant antiquity, dying with his ambitions unfulfilled, never appearing in the Emperor’s Road battle for supremacy.
The crowd cried out in alarm, all scrambling to move away. In the present world, few even among senior figures of the older generation could suppress Long Xiaoqu. The purple blood-energy surged like a raging tide — the only person left in that entire space was Ye Fan.
He did not dodge. He simply extended a single index finger, which magnified in an instant to become like a pillar of gold crashing downward, scattering the surging purple blood-energy throughout the sky in a single blow.
Boom!
The golden finger descended — more than ten zhang in length — directly sending Long Xiaoqu flying. It then pressed down above Long Xiaoqu’s head, continuing to press toward the Dragon Sparrow clan’s location before finally withdrawing.
Everyone was stunned, not knowing where this expert had appeared from.
Ye Fan had lectured on the scriptures at the Sacred Treasure sect, and had slain a great demon-beast at the primordial dragon cave of Changbai Mountain — neither event had spread to the outside world, and so the great majority of people here did not recognize him.
“Does your clan wish to kill me?” He transmitted by divine thought, bearing down upon every person of the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow clan with his gaze.
“Fellow Daoist, please do not be angered — it is nothing of the sort. We merely wished to find out the true identity of the person who appeared at our clan’s Jiujiang branch lineage. We have no desire for retaliation,” an elderly demon-beast of that clan explained.
“It has nothing to do with your clansmen. I only wanted to see how strong you were!” Long Xiaoqu spoke as well.
Ye Fan swept his divine thought through the consciousness-seas of several of them and found that what they said was true. Though some hostility was present, they had never formed the intent in their hearts to fight him to the death.
“In that case, very well. I will spar with you for a few moves.” He still used a single golden finger as his weapon of engagement — like a great golden staff breaking through the heavens — each movement flashing with Dao markings, pressing down as the vault of heaven resonated with deep, rolling sound.
Long Xiaoqu’s pupils blazed with intense light, wild as a beast, opening and closing in great sweeping movements, displaying various demon-god secret arts in opposition to this single finger.
The many cultivators on the scene were astonished, nearly stupefied. What level of cultivation could this possibly be? Could it be the great perfection of Dragon Transformation — or had the person stepped into the mystery realm of the Immortal Platform? Otherwise, how could such a feat be possible?
The people of the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow clan were all filled with fear, terrified that Ye Fan would strike to kill. Yet watching for a time, they realized this was in fact instruction — this young man was manifesting the demon clan’s sacred art, indirectly transmitting the method.
When Ye Fan saw Long Xiaoqu, he was unable to help but think of the Young Golden-Winged Peng King, and could not resist manifesting the Sacred Battle Method to evolve the Heavenly Demon God-Slaying Art, casually offering a measure of guidance.
Clang!
A beam of sword-light flew in. Zhan Yifan moved against Ye Fan as well, sending a flying sword blazing into the sky, slashing apart the clouds and heavens.
At the same moment, the Heavenly Phoenix Maiden’s beautiful eyes shimmered with astonishment — her beauty a marvel that shook the world — and she too came rushing forward. Calamitous fire engulfed the sky, blazing toward the mysterious powerful figure standing immovable as a mountain.
And the very next instant, the Kunlun Twin Fish moved as well. You Wei Fish was free and transcendent, manifesting his profound art. Yan Xiao Fish was light and graceful as an immortal, her beauty beyond compare, her slender hands guiding her technique.
Ye Fan naturally had to hold back — treating them all equally. He used the sword intent of Chisongzi to nurture Zhan Yifan’s growth, and manifested the wondrous techniques of the Jade Pool to counter the Kunlun Twin Fish.
Every person present was dumbstruck. Who was this person — holding off the five supreme experts of the younger generation simultaneously, alone?
The younger generation in particular was shaken to their core, unable to believe what was happening before their eyes. It was like something out of legend.
Ye Fan suppressed his cultivation to the Ninth Heaven of Dragon Transformation, yet in the eyes of the onlookers, his divine might was still overwhelming — too breathtaking for words.
Boom!
Suddenly, at this moment, the several practitioners of the Western tradition moved against him. Each held an ancient scroll, which they forcefully opened and directed toward Ye Fan, sealing him within.
These were several forbidden weapons — imbued with immense power. Each scroll contained an ancient incantation of great age, possessing the force of annihilation. Forbidden weapons could only be used a few times, and the most powerful ones would destroy themselves upon a single use. These scrolls were clearly the latter kind — with a power like a surging ocean.
Ye Fan’s eyes grew cold. He had suppressed his cultivation to the Ninth Heaven of Dragon Transformation for the express purpose of observing whether these few individuals would dare move against him to kill. Now he showed not the slightest mercy and moved against them.
One great golden palm directly shattered one of the ancient forbidden scroll weapons, and then further — it reduced the elderly Western expert who had stood behind that scroll to a pulp of flesh.
Pff!
Then, with a flip of his hand, he shattered the second forbidden weapon as well. Where the golden grinding-wheel-like palm passed, another powerful inheritor of the Western tradition was slapped into a puddle of blood.
Every person present was stunned.
“You came to the central lands to kill me — how brazen of you. How dare you run wild in this place. I will personally make a journey to the West.” Ye Fan said coldly.