Across the Star Fields of the Lingxiao Domain and the myriad Heavens and Earths of the Wanyao Domain, wherever humans gathered and lived, every voice chanted Yang Kai's name and proclaimed the might of the Void Great Emperor.
For the first few days, nothing out of the ordinary occurred. But as time flowed on, a strange sound began to ring in everyone's ears—a sound like waves crashing against the shore, spray scattering into foam.
And as every human continued their chanting, the sound grew ever clearer.
Until, at a certain moment, the heavens themselves began to stir.
In every settlement where humans had gathered, a vast river of unknown origin suddenly materialized, stretching across the horizon.
The furious roaring of surging waves emanated from within that river. Every last person witnessed the miraculous spectacle.
The waters churned and rushed onward into the distance, threading through boundless void, flowing past domain after domain, crossing the Pass of No Return, traversing the Ancient Battlefield—before finally converging upon the site where Yang Kai and Mo had waged their last battle.
On that palace, more than ten of Yang Kai's closest kin gazed upon the scene with faces trembling with emotion. Their chanting grew ever more fervent, their expressions ever more reverent.
The river, once hazy and ethereal—as though it existed only in some other plane of existence—rapidly solidified. Between the rolling waves, a figure stepped forth upon the crest of the surf.
He looked up at the figures gathered on the palace and broke into a smile. "I'm back!"
On the palace, men and women wept with joy. One figure after another shot through the air, hurtling toward that man.
……
In the Forbidden Land, numerous powerhouses had arrived upon hearing the disturbance. In a brief span, over a hundred had gathered, and more were still streaming in from the distance.
Every last one of them was the supreme powerhouse of their own Heaven and Earth, each having reached the absolute limit of their strength. Any single one among them had once been a legend within their world.
But now, their worlds had long since forgotten them, leaving them trapped here in the Forbidden Land.
The hundred-odd supreme powerhouses stood silently in all directions, staring at a corpse floating not far away.
It was Sword Eight's body. A broken sword was still clutched in his hand, the other half of the blade driven into his own chest, extinguishing his vitality.
Someone had died!
The Forbidden Land was no stranger to fierce confrontations. Battles erupted from time to time—world-shaking clashes rarely seen in the outside world.
But in truth, deaths were exceedingly rare.
Though the supreme powerhouses cultivated under different systems, reaching the pinnacle of any path was ultimately a pursuit of the Dao. All methods led to the same end. This meant that everyone's strength was roughly on par, so no matter how violent the fighting grew, it seldom resulted in a fatality.
The last death had occurred hundreds of thousands of years ago, when a particularly foul-tempered individual had provoked the collective fury of the group and been cut down by a coalition of supreme powerhouses.
But Sword Eight's death was clearly not the result of a coordinated assault. Regardless of which power system each onlooker cultivated, they all possessed the discernment to see that much.
Sword Eight had been killed by a single person—and killed cleanly, at that. The killer had even destroyed Sword Eight's sword.
The supreme powerhouses present, even those who had not been personally acquainted with Sword Eight, had at least crossed paths with him.
Sword Eight's sword was his Dao. Killing a man was one thing, but killing someone and destroying their Dao at the same time—that was something beyond comprehension.
What concerned the supreme powerhouses even more was the fact that they had distinctly sensed unusual disturbances from this area moments ago. Even from a great distance, the commotion had been as obvious as a flame in pitch darkness.
It was the sensation of someone breaking through the existing limits of their power! Yet by the time they arrived, they had found nothing at all.
Under the collective gaze of the crowd, Chong Jiu and the powerhouse Sword Eight had brought along wore expressions of bitterness that surpassed even eating raw coptis root.
They had witnessed the entire scene of Yang Kai cutting down Sword Eight. Their minds had been shaken to the core, and by the time they recovered, other supreme powerhouses who had sensed the disturbance had already arrived to investigate.
This left them unable to leave even if they wanted to.
Departing at a time like this would certainly result in being forcibly detained by the others.
The supreme powerhouses had been trapped here for far too long. Any unusual disturbance drew their attention—and this particular one had exceeded the limits of their existing power system.
"Who was here?" someone suddenly asked.
Though the question came without preamble, its meaning was obvious enough—namely, who had witnessed Sword Eight's death.
No one spoke.
"Who arrived first?" another asked.
Still silence. But the supreme powerhouses' gazes began to shift, each person looking toward someone who had arrived before them.
In the end, every line of sight converged on Chong Jiu.
Chong Jiu's nose was practically twisted sideways with rage. He glared at the powerhouse Sword Eight had brought along: "You're staring at me too? You were with me!"
Though the two had originally been on different sides, in this moment they clearly needed to stand together. If they handled this situation poorly, they might end up as the common enemy of every supreme powerhouse in the Forbidden Land. They could not afford to be careless.