Chapter 1623: After the War

The first battle concluded. The Overlord departed dejectedly, and a supreme fire spirit of its generation fell. This outcome was undoubtedly sensational. Ye Fan's three disciples rose in this grand era, looking down upon all directions!

Three figures, enveloped in divine halos, stood side by side, like gods of war who had walked out of ancient times and manifested in this era, unrivaled in the human world.

All around, it was quiet; people held their breath. Ye Fan's disciples had already grown to such a formidable level, leaving his arch-rivals in a difficult position. If there were to be another battle, who would they face?

At this moment, no one was targeting them. Although there were still peerless masters in the Imperial Pass watching coldly, who had not truly arrived, it was believed that this battle would certainly deeply impress them.

The crowd dispersed, and the place returned to tranquility.

Of course, some who wished to follow Ye Fan did not go far; they lingered nearby, waiting for an opportunity.

"Master, who are these three losers?"

In front of the thatched hut, Huahua cocked his head, his bald pate shining exceptionally bright as if waxed. He squinted at Mo Wentian, Tuoba Mo, and Yi Ming, a frivolous look on his face.

"Baldy, who are you talking about?!" Tuoba Mo immediately flared up in anger. It was bad enough that he had been powerfully suppressed by Ye Fan and brought here as a laborer, but to be despised by a bald man was too much.

"Kid, you're asking for a beating. How dare you criticize your Buddhist Brother? Don't you even know who you are? Go pour your Buddhist Master a cup of tea and remember your place." Huahua plopped down on a wooden stool, instructing Tuoba Mo.

"Baldy, you boast shamelessly! Do you dare to fight me?" Tuoba Mo's temper flared, rushing straight to his head as he strode forward menacingly.

"A fight is a fight, who's afraid of whom?" Huahua stood up and delivered a slap.

Thud!

There was no suspense. Tuoba Mo was sent flying, falling into the dust, for he had been severely wounded by Ye Fan, his five great secret realms shattered, making recovery incredibly difficult.

"Monk, if you'd let me recover, I'd beat you so badly you wouldn't even recognize Amitabha!" Tuoba Mo exclaimed, filled with intense hatred.

He was a demonic figure, always unrestrained in this world, acting powerfully and doing as he pleased. Yet now, he felt incredibly frustrated and humiliated.

"Who do you think you are? Any random person wants to challenge me? If I had to respond to every single one, I'd be annoyed to death," Huahua sneered.

On his way here, he had already heard about these three, especially when he learned that this demonic man had claimed his Master Ye Fan was old and unable to withstand a single blow. Naturally, Huahua had remembered that.

A monk's revenge was certainly not a simple matter.

"Kid, I hear you're very arrogant," Huahua said, fixing his gaze on Mo Wentian. "You want to fight my junior brother Yang Xi to prove that Yao Guang is stronger than my Master? And I also heard you claimed that after 300 years, there would be no Human Sacred Body Ye Fan left in the world, that he had long been dead. How malicious!"

Mo Wentian snorted coldly, offering no reply.

Huahua smiled and said, "Very well. I see you have quite the spiritual root; you should be one of us in Buddhism. Today, this humble monk shall guide you to your proper place."

"You... what do you want to do?" Mo Wentian's hair stood on end; he had a bad premonition and stared at Huahua warily.

However, what power did he have to resist now? He was directly restrained by Huahua, who then took out a gleaming razor, calmly held his head down, and began to shave.

"Stop!" Mo Wentian cried out, his face turning green. How could this monk be so eccentric and wicked? He actually wanted to deal with him in such a way!

"Benefactor, go ahead and scream. It won't do any good even if you scream yourself hoarse," Huahua said with a mischievous grin. The razor in his hand swished, and gleaming blades of light flew like countless paper scraps falling from the sky.

Mo Wentian roared, but his head was held down. Unable to move, he could only feel his long, black hair rustling down, and a cool breeze on his head, making him tremble with rage.

"Benefactor, you have achieved great enlightenment; your three thousand strands of worldly vexations have all departed," Huahua said as he put away the razor, acting like an unparalleled swordsman. He performed a few more flashy flourishes with the blade, striking a cool pose.

Mo Wentian's face was bluish-green; he wanted nothing more than to stomp on Huahua's bald head. He finally couldn't help but let out a long howl, but no black hair swayed wildly—only a bald head remained.

Huahua took a step back, put away the razor, and struck the pose of an enlightened monk, pressing his palms together. "Amitabha, excellent, excellent. Benefactor, from now on, you are with me, you exist with the Buddha; a single thought blossoms. Master is above."

His rambling made Mo Wentian want to bite him in frustration; this bald guy was truly wicked.

"Oh, right," Huahua asked Tuoba Mo, then pointed to Mo Wentian, "weren't you just cursing 'baldy'? Were you talking about him?"

Both parties involved turned ashen, their eyes spitting fire, glaring fiercely at him.

"This is not right," Huahua corrected, then walked towards Tuoba Mo, saying, "Buddha says all beings are equal. How can you discriminate against Benefactor Mo? You are with him; you are the same kind of person."

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Cold light gleamed, and blade light danced. Tuoba Mo also became bald, his scalp gleaming, and one could clearly see veins throbbing on his raw skin. He trembled all over and lunged at Huahua. Unfortunately, it was futile; he was slapped down to the ground.

"Don't... don't come over!" Yi Ming cried out.

"I hate pretty boys the most. No matter how refined their demeanor, it's not as good as the appearance of ordinary people," Huahua said. "Come, your Buddhist Master will grant you a fortune, allowing you to return to simplicity."

Huahua swung his fist, giving Yi Ming a black eye, and said, "How dare you insult my Master? Even your masters wouldn't be able to do anything!"

When Ye Fan, Yang Xi, and Ye Tong walked over, Huahua had already finished. There were now three more bald heads on the spot, and the three victims were trembling all over, too enraged to speak.

"Senior Brother, this isn't right. After all, they are people of status. How could you do this?" Yang Xi criticized, then pulled each of them up, saying, "Come with me."

Individuals have different temperaments, and their methods of action naturally vary. Yang Xi took the three utterly enraged individuals to... duel. He was a battle maniac, after all.

"Junior Brother, you're quite ruthless," Huahua reminded him. "Their secret realms have been shattered; don't accidentally kill them!"

"It's fine," Yang Xi said. "Don't you have your Nirvana Heart Sutra? I'll let them temporarily recover, and I'll be careful!"

In the following days, earth-shaking sounds and the furious roars of the three came from afar. The battle maniac had begun to stretch his muscles.

In the Imperial Pass, the atmosphere was a bit strange. The fire spirit was dead, and the Overlord was defeated. For the past few days, people had been discussing it, all feeling uneasy.

Ye Fan had come back to life, reappearing in the world after three hundred years. This news was almost confirmed, shaking the One True Path and astounding everyone.

Now, everyone was pondering what kind of combat power Ye Fan would possess if he truly recovered his cultivation. This was a question that every aspirant on the Imperial Road needed to seriously consider, because in the future, they might truly have to face him—perhaps an insurmountable chasm blocking everyone's path!

"I can't believe I wasn't mistaken that day. It really is him," Western Bodhisattva Juetu Youqing sighed softly. Back then, they had once ventured together into the Central Province Immortal Abode world and had some acquaintance.

Golden Cicada, clad in white and exuding an ethereal aura, nodded and said, "He is a powerful man. But anyone who wishes to forge the Imperial Road must pass his test."

On this day, Yin Tiande stood on an ancient tower in the Imperial Pass, gazing into the distance. He was sensing the Immortal Scripture of the Heavenly Emperor, unaffected by the external atmosphere. It was a long time before he opened his eyes and silently looked towards a shimmering gate, which led directly to the Flying Immortal Battlefield!

From his body, purple energy surged skyward, vast for thirty thousand li, as if a god were about to embark on a distant journey, giving off an unfathomable impression. His eyes could annihilate endless star systems.

"I've captured it, the Heavenly Emperor's scripture. Wait a little longer; I will soon come to you," he murmured softly.

"What?! Master, you actually sensed the Immortal Scripture of the Heavenly Emperor? This is truly... defying the heavens!" a female disciple exclaimed in shock, then showed a joyful expression, almost screaming out loud.

In another direction, an ancient dao platform, mottled with the marks of time, stood. This place should have been absorbing the essence of heaven and earth, nourished by the sun, moon, and stellar forces, making it the most radiant. However, at this moment, the dao platform was completely dark, and a Great Dao Treasured Vase was floating there, transformed into a black hole, devouring all vital energy in the cosmos.

Below, a man sat cross-legged, motionless, immersed in the deepest state of enlightenment, like a celestial being sealed in time.

Finally, he moved. In an instant, he opened his mouth and inhaled, and the Great Dao Treasured Vase transformed into countless runes, entering his mouth. Black symbols were branded within his flesh and blood.

Afterwards, his entire body suddenly glowed, dispelling the darkness in an instant. His entire demeanor changed dramatically; divine halos enveloped his body, every inch of his flesh glowed translucently, and even his hair was tinged with golden light, like a divine son of the sun.

At this moment, he was filled with the qi of longevity, possessing an undying divine charm, like an immortal king who had endured countless eons, awakening from the dust of ages and returning to the present world.

This was a completely different aura; he had two great celestial techniques within him, which quickly brought about a transformation, making his body terrifyingly powerful and flowing with the most mysterious radiance.

He possessed the power of the Divine Race, the aura of a Holy Spirit, the bloodline strength of a Sky-Devouring Beast, and the Dao traces of a Primeval Demon. In this one person, there were actually auras of many powerful physiques from across the cosmos, causing one to tremble.

Now, these origins had melted into one, coalescing into a single being—he was Yao Guang!

"For so many years, I've been waiting for a battle with you. I can't believe you're truly so heaven-defying, returning like this. My blood is boiling. I hope you don't disappoint me," Yao Guang murmured to himself.

"Master, you don't have time to leave now. The Immortal Scripture of the Heavenly Emperor is most important. Didn't the guardian of the Imperial Pass say this is a crucial step?" his other disciple, Li Qingzhou, said, standing below the ancient dao platform.

In the Imperial Pass, the Great Might Holy Spirit, Daoist Nine Calamities, Di Tian, Great Demon King Gu Huang, and certain ancient imperial bloodlines had arrived, each reacting differently.

To become a Great Emperor, one must possess a sufficiently strong Emperor Body. And perhaps, the strength of a fully realized Sacred Body will, in this era, become the ultimate test for the strongest who aim to become Emperor with a powerful physique.

Everyone was thinking that this might be the greatest trial bestowed upon them by the heavens, causing the Human Sacred Body—the strongest physique—to revive and return to obstruct their path.

One person was very special: Zhang Bairen. He had been strolling through the ancient streets, not participating in anything, seemingly aloof from worldly affairs.

At the Flying Immortal Battlefield, Ye Fan spent several days with his three disciples, listening to them speak about his relatives and old friends. His old friends were well, and the Heavenly Court was growing stronger day by day, which greatly pleased him.

On the thatched hut, a few days ago, a gecko fell and broke its tail. But now it had grown back partially, causing Ye Fan to fall into a reverie.

In the distance, a large python was coiled on a boulder, shedding its skin, struggling to break free from its old hide. Soon after, its entire body shimmered with golden scales, and a horn grew on its head. It was actually transforming into a flood dragon, crawling into the distance, now even more powerful.

"Master, they are all comprehending the Immortal Scripture of the Heavenly Emperor, including the descendants of the ancient emperors and others. Aren't you going? It's said there are unparalleled great secrets within the scripture!" Yang Xi said.

"I don't want to go for now. Let your master be quiet for a while and think about his own path." Ye Fan sat cross-legged in front of the thatched hut, watching flowers bloom and wither, dead wood revive, and wild grass sprout. His entire being became serene.