Chapter 1265: Emperor's Path Grows Dim

In the vastness of the cosmos, time and seasons are lost. The path ahead demands only conquest.

A gust of wind rustled through, bringing down withered yellow leaves, evoking the bleakness of autumn—a desolate scene. Along the ancient starry path, battles raged. How many heroes, like withered leaves, fell in the struggle, collapsing in pools of blood, their bones buried in foreign lands.

In this ancient city steeped in autumn, the trial-takers silently recuperated, preparing for the next battles, fighting to survive.

Ye Fan's steps were firm. Having mastered the "Practitioner" secret art, golden vital energy surged around him, and he swiftly recovered to his peak condition. The light in his eyes, once contained, transformed into a deep, abyssal radiance—a contradictory sight of profound depth and brilliant glow.

In the evening, the setting sun, like residual blood, outlined a horizon that seemed to hold countless fallen bodies, evoking an inexplicable sense of desolation.

Some cultivators walked in the chilly autumn wind. The trees lining the streets were already withered yellow, and scattered leaves danced in the air, creating an atmosphere of decay and sorrow.

Ye Fan stepped out, his eyes gleaming, his will as firm as iron. Each step was resolute and powerful. Unwavering in his resolve, he walked along the time-worn ancient path.

He knew well that after the baptism of bloody battlefields, some cultivators were utterly exhausted. Though they had survived mountains of corpses and seas of blood, they had lost the will to compete for victory.

Sure enough, as he entered the city's most magnificent tavern, he had barely ascended the stairs when he overheard desolate conversations.

"I've made up my mind," a voice declared. "I'm quitting now and returning to my homeland without looking back. I'll never again harbor the delusion of achieving enlightenment."

The speaker was an ascetic cultivator. In just a few months, he had transformed from vibrant and heroic to profoundly weathered, his eyes no longer sharp but somewhat dim, and his temples touched with strands of white.

"Really... he's actually giving up?" someone nearby asked, their voice tinged with the same bitterness, clearly empathizing.

"Gone. There's no point in staying," the voice continued. "Everyone from my homeland is dead, only I remain. I see no hope. Even my younger brother died..."

Many fell silent, a bitter ache rising in their hearts. This was the resentment and sorrow within them. Once heroes in their own regions, they had lost their former glory upon embarking on this path.

There was a time when each of them stood at the pinnacle of their respective domains, achieving success in their youth. Yet, these proud individuals had tasted defeat here, becoming mere stepping stones for another group of stronger cultivators.

A despondent young man, utterly drunk, suddenly burst into tears, his emotions uncontrollable. With tears of unresigned bitterness on his face, he sobbed, "Our former pride, our invincible glory in our own domains, means nothing here. We are mercilessly trampled upon. The struggle for the Emperor's path is a battlefield for only a select few; for us, it's too cruel. We are merely pitiful passersby and the dead."

At his words, many fell silent, recalling their past glorious years when they too were arrogant, commanding the world, full of ambition. But upon embarking on this path, many had tasted only bitterness.

"The one I loved died before my eyes," another person whispered, filled with pain. "She was so sorrowful, and I was powerless to save her. I could only tremble as I lifted her from the pool of blood, watching helplessly as her eyes dimmed, her body grew cold, and she lost her last spark of life." He continued, "There is only hurt and pain here. I never want to remember it again. I'm leaving tonight."

In the tavern, over a dozen people suddenly stood up, stumbling downstairs to find the city's commander, intent on embarking on their return journey, never to look back.

That very night, figure after figure, burdened with unwillingness, pain, and a sense of desolation, chose different starry coordinates and set off on their solitary journeys, their retreating figures filled with sorrow.

As the autumn wind rose, a woman sang softly.

"We are the sorrow in others' tales, like fallen leaves adrift in the wind, with no direction. On the Great Emperor's path, our footprints exist, yet not in paradise, only a vivid, tragic red, narrating the sadness of blood. Steeds gallop through the starry sky, mighty figures, astonishing battles, shooting down divine moons, shattering ancient myths, building a glorious Emperor's path, becoming an eternal melody. But that is others' glory. Wandering, lost, where are we? Struggling, searching—a pile of white bones on the Emperor's path defines our desolation."

The song was like weeping, faint and choked, carried by the autumn wind and scattered leaves, filling the ancient city.

That night, as one sorrowful figure after another departed, fewer than a hundred trial-takers remained from this group.

A pile of bones on the Emperor's path—this was the fate of most, a cruel reality. Confusion and unwillingness were of no use.

They had only just reached the second pass, yet hope was already dimming, because some cultivators clearly realized that dozens of individuals in their current group surpassed them. How could they even speak of competing for the Emperor's path in the future?

Among the remaining ninety-odd people, some believed in their own potential, thinking their current cultivation level was merely insufficient, and they could slowly grow to eventually become a legend.

Others were merely seeking refinement, not enlightenment, intending to become Sage Kings and return to their homelands in the future.

People's ambitions and aspirations differed greatly. Some were dejected, while others showed their sharp edge. Different personalities led to different fates. That night, some of the remaining cultivators strummed their swords and sang aloud, their blades resonating through heaven and earth, their fighting spirit soaring for thousands of miles.

Ye Fan remained calm. Having witnessed countless deaths, and having fought bloody battles since embarking on the path of cultivation, what more confusion could there be for him? Only a heart as firm as iron remained.

As for the Dragon Horse, though injured, its mood was not bad, because in a recent battle, despite not being a Saint, it had nearly bitten several Saint Beasts to death.

After Ye Fan returned, the creature was swaggering about as if self-hypnotized, muttering to itself that it was the strongest in the world and would fight like a maniac in the future.

"Why are you also using the Source of Dao to wash your feet?" Ye Fan asked in surprise, a little stunned by the sight.

The Dragon Horse brazenly retorted, "Nonsense! You've already done it. Even if this particular Source of Dao wasn't used by you, if I integrated it, wouldn't I seem inferior to you? How could I achieve enlightenment or ride you back someday then?"

Ye Fan immediately wanted to punch it. He wondered why the creature always had such an inexplicably good attitude.

In the early morning, golden rays of sunlight streamed down, vibrant and energetic. They illuminated the horizon in a glorious display, brimming with vigorous life.

On this splendid morning, everyone felt a surge of powerful energy, and became immensely confident.

The gloom of the past had lifted, and the remaining strong continued to strengthen. It was then that Ye Fan learned they would soon advance to an ancient Dao field, a place of infinite power.

The Great Dao of Nature, the Source of Dao, the Way of Infinite Power... By now, people couldn't help but ponder: this truly was a path with profound significance.

"Just being in this city, with the sunlight falling upon us, we already feel a surging power," someone mused. "What kind of place must that ancient Dao field be?"

As the sun rose in the east, many people, still pondering, noticed a commotion on the streets, followed by a clamor of voices.

"What's happening?"

Everyone stepped onto the street in surprise to ask passersby, only to find mostly young people hurrying in a particular direction.

"What could have caused such a sensation?"

"Don't you know? Someone activated the Divine Light Ancient Platform and returned from the front-line ancient path," a voice replied. "We'll likely hear some secrets from the battlefield."

"Don't those who embark on the Starry Path usually cannot return to the rear Sacred Cities," someone else questioned, "unless they abandon the trial path and go directly back to their homelands?"

"Didn't I just say she used the Divine Light Ancient Platform?" the first person clarified. "That's an exception and doesn't violate city rules."

Many people conversed as they headed towards the city square.

Ye Fan's heart stirred, and he inquired with a local resident, asking what was happening and what the Divine Light Ancient Platform was.

"It's a divine artifact comparable to a Five-Colored Altar," the resident explained. "It can be carried and allows unrestricted travel between certain specific star regions."

"How does one obtain it?" Ye Fan's heart quickened. He felt such an item held immense practical value.

"Naturally, one must demonstrate outstanding performance on the ancient path and achieve extraordinary merits," the resident replied, "such as discovering the tomb of an ancient Great Emperor or performing deeds beneficial to humanity."

Ye Fan was stunned, realizing that the person who had returned must be of extraordinary background, undoubtedly a terrifying and astonishingly powerful expert.

His conjecture was soon confirmed: a woman named Qing Shi had returned, known as the "Exiled Immortal Maiden." She was exceptionally powerful and formidable. Years ago, she was undeniably the foremost among her group of trial-takers, and even after catching up to the stronger cultivators ahead, she remained unrivaled on her journey.

A few years ago, while campaigning in the celestial expanse, she even broke through a trial ground, battling her way into a mysterious Chaotic Immortal Land. For this extraordinary feat, she was granted a Divine Light Ancient Platform.

Any Chaotic Immortal Land held dreamlike value; within them, rare treasures of heaven and earth were innumerable. It was rumored she had obtained one of the most valuable supreme treasures from it.

No one had expected her to embark on a return journey today, coming back to the Sacred City, where the human race's trial began. She was undoubtedly a woman capable of stifling countless heroes.

"It truly is Immortal Maiden Qing Shi," people affirmed. "She's in our city. She passed through here over twenty years ago."

"That's right, I was fortunate enough to see the Exiled Immortal Maiden back then. It really is her," another exclaimed. "She's even more ethereal and refined now, and unfathomably powerful!"

Many local residents were discussing her, especially the younger cultivators, who were particularly excited. They had been deeply impressed by her, and after many years, she remained unforgettable.

Many people surged towards that direction, all wanting to catch a glimpse of the legendary Exiled Immortal Maiden.

"Who would have thought that after twenty-odd years, Miss Ling'er, who was by the Exiled Immortal Maiden's side, would have become a Saint?" someone mused. "Truly beyond reach."

"On second thought, it makes sense," another replied. "Back then, Miss Ling'er was only a hair's breadth away from becoming a Saint. With over twenty years of accumulation, she naturally surpassed that barrier."

Many believed that the return of the Exiled Immortal Maiden would bring unimaginable pressure upon the current group of trial-takers. That earlier group was extraordinary, a terrifyingly powerful combination, and yet Qing Shi was revered as the foremost among them. She naturally possessed the divine power to seize the creation of heaven and earth.

Even the Emissary of the Second Sacred City was alerted and personally went to welcome her, bringing the Exiled Immortal Maiden into his secluded cultivation grounds, clearly showing immense regard for her.

Everyone was astonished and felt even greater reverence for the Exiled Immortal Maiden. It was said that this woman possessed unparalleled grace and was an peerless beauty. With such cultivation, capable of shaking the ancient starry path, it was impossible for her not to attract attention.

"Her return poses too great a threat to this later group of trial-takers," someone speculated. "It will likely destabilize the Dao hearts of some. When faced with the brilliance of a full moon, how many can remain calm?"

"There are rules on the ancient path," another stated. "Even if she returns, she cannot make a move, nor can she enter the trial grounds."

"Even so, merely sensing her divine might and supreme immortal bones will cause many to lose confidence," someone else retorted.

Some elders in the city whispered, discussing softly, feeling that the Exiled Immortal Maiden's return was somewhat inappropriate and might affect the will of this later group of trial-takers to achieve enlightenment.