Chapter 2858: A New Young Emperor is Added

Sizzle! Sizzle!

In the silent black hole, with no more thunderous roars, the faint sizzle had become the most pleasing melody.

All the quasi-emperors had found comfortable spots, some holding wine jugs, others popping pills into their mouths, and still others setting up formations. Every eye was fixed on Yè Chén.

A year had passed, and he had finally gotten back on track. His Dao wounds were beginning to heal.

"Aside from the speed being a bit slow, there's nothing else wrong."

Chǔ Jiāng Wáng stroked his beard, speaking leisurely.

It was the plain truth.

The quasi-emperors had watched seriously for half a month, and Yè Chén's primordial spirit wounds seemed to show no real change. The healing was so slow it was frustrating—as things stood, it would take three to five years to fully recover.

But Yè Chén wasn't in a hurry, and being anxious wouldn't help anyway. Being able to find the power of space-time was already a stroke of luck. This method was much faster than comprehending space-time laws from scratch, which would take at least a century to start. While stitching up the Dao wounds was slow, it was the most direct approach.

Hmm?

As they watched, Jiàn Zūn suddenly turned his head, sensing an imperial aura—it was Hēi Páo Dì, lurking in the darkness and spying.

He wasn't mistaken; it was indeed Hēi Páo Dì. From afar, he had spotted Yè Chén, his face twisted in rage and gritted teeth. Yè Chén might not be rushed, but he was. Once Yè Chén fully recovered, reclaiming the altar would be nothing but a pipe dream.

Boom! Bang! Boom!

In an instant, the four sword cultivators, Shèng Zūn, Dì Jī, and over a dozen other quasi-emperors stepped off the altar and charged into the darkness.

Unfortunately, Hēi Páo Dì was too slippery; they chased for three full days without catching him.

When they returned to the altar, Yè Chén had already stopped. His face was pale, and blood kept overflowing from his mouth. Using space-time threads to stitch up his primordial spirit wounds was extremely draining, even more so than refining fragments of the Zhū Xiān Jiàn.

This exhaustion wasn't unfounded—he had only found space-time but hadn't comprehended it fully. He was using a brute-force method. If he could master the space-time laws, it would be much easier.

The quasi-emperors were generous, offering him pills or channeling their essence to help him recover his energy.

Two days later, he closed his eyes again.

And so, day by day, month by month.

Another year slipped by quietly.

It was now the third year since they had come to the altar.

That year, they saw no heavenly demons or calamitous demons, giving the quasi-emperors a rare period of peace.

That year, Yè Chén worked intermittently, and the six-inch-long Dao wound had shrunk to just five inches.

"At this rate, it'll take another five years!"

Dì Lǎo said listlessly.

In the second year, the heavenly demons and calamitous demons returned, their forces far beyond what the quasi-emperors had expected, but they still failed to breach the altar.

In the fourth year, Hēi Páo Dì personally led an assault and was utterly defeated.

In the fifth year, strange phenomena appeared in Great Chǔ. Ruò Xī, Chǔ Xuān, and Chǔ Líng all emerged from Líng Xiāo Diàn, like three ghosts wandering through Great Chǔ.

Rén Wáng followed them the whole way, but eventually lost track. When he returned to Tiān Xuán Mén, the three were back in Líng Xiāo Diàn, transformed once more into two- or three-year-old little girls.

In the seventh year, the scattered relics of the Heavenly Venerable reappeared across the realms. Vaguely, a hazy, chaotic figure could be seen, but after just three to five breaths, the relics vanished again, leaving only the chaotic heavenly sounds echoing through the stars.

In the eighth year, the black hole rumbled as Hēi Páo Dì stirred up trouble again, drawing countless heavenly demons and calamitous demons. They actually managed to storm the altar, but no sooner had they set foot than they were blasted away by the Chaos Cauldron.

That battle lasted half a month. The quasi-emperors of the realms united, slaughtering the demons and leaving mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Even Hēi Páo Dì was obliterated halfway through his imperial body—it was their most devastating defeat in several sieges.

That year, Yè Chén's Dao wounds on his primordial spirit had fully healed. The fresh blood dripping from his mouth finally stopped, and his pale face regained its former ruddy glow. His surging vital energy carried the sound of dragon roars.

However, he did not wake up. Like a statue, he sat in the formation, completely still.

"Won't he sleep through it?"

Dì Lǎo held a stick, tempted to poke Yè Chén.

The women all turned and glared at him fiercely.

"His mind is deeply immersed—he's comprehending the Dao."

Dōng Huáng Tài Xīn said softly, able to discern Yè Chén's state.

Since he was comprehending the Dao, the quasi-emperors wouldn't disturb him. With his Dao wounds healed, he could attempt to break through realms again. Settling his Dao essence was essential. If Yè Chén could truly grasp space-time, he wouldn't be so helpless if struck by a cross-time kill again.

Another year passed in a flash.

Yè Chén still hadn't awakened; dust had even gathered on his shoulders. While his primordial spirit wounds were healed, his injuries weren't completely gone. There were external space-time wounds and internal space-time intent to dispel. Otherwise, the Dao wounds might relapse. He had passed the most difficult phase and now just needed to recuperate.

In the tenth year, rumbles echoed through the stars, coming from a desolate region far from civilization. Someone was triggering a heavenly tribulation.

The commotion was massive, drawing cultivators from across the realms. When they saw who was undergoing the tribulation, they were all stunned.

It was a white-haired young scholar, appearing refined, but anyone could tell it was Yè Líng in disguise as a man.

"Since the Heavenly Venerable relics all those years ago, it's been over twenty years since we've seen the Holy Spirit Body."

"It's not quite accurate to call it the Holy Spirit Body anymore—she no longer has that bloodline."

"The daughter of the Holy Body seems even more extraordinary than before."

"I just wonder if she's overcome the shadows of the past, or if that guilt still lingers."

People murmured, with surprise, quiet sighs, emotion, and shock. They felt something was missing.

What was missing? The mischief of Yè Líng. In their memories, that little girl was full of playful antics. Her current silence felt unnatural—they were used to that troublemaking little demon who stirred up chaos everywhere.

"Twenty-something years can really change a person."

"She has transformed."

The older generations took a deep breath.

Like father, like daughter—Yè Líng's extraordinariness was clear to see. Her slender figure had lost some of its immortal grace and gained a touch of worldly essence. At first glance, she could pass for an ordinary person.

That was returning to simplicity.

Yè Líng stood gracefully, still as an ice sculpture, her clear eyes calm as water.

Ten years of repentance and ten years living as a mortal had stripped away her sharpness and allowed her Dao essence to settle.

She was the one who had been building up for a breakthrough.

Among her peers, including Yè Fán, they had all advanced to Great Saint over twenty years ago.

But she was only taking this step now, comprehending the human Dao with an ordinary bloodline and opening another door on her path.

Boom! Rumble!

Accompanied by thunder, heavenly tribulation lightning flashed, with thunderbolts of various colors pouring down from the sky, merging into a brilliant waterfall. The destructive sea of lightning engulfed her.

The onlookers weren't worried—with Yè Líng's talent and combat power, the lightning couldn't harm her. What was truly fearsome was the upcoming imperial Dao law bodies.

Speaking of imperial Dao law bodies, people were curious: With her ordinary bloodline, could Yè Líng summon them, and how many? Would they be emperor-level or young emperor-level?

The reality left them aghast.

Yè Líng, without any special bloodline, summoned seventeen imperial Dao law bodies in one go—all ancient emperors.

Gulp!

The Fiery War Body, who had come to watch the tribulation, swallowed hard.

"This is insane."

"An ordinary bloodline with this kind of lineup?"

The Jiǔ Yōu Demon Body's mouth twitched. Compared to Yè Líng, his own Great Saint tribulation seemed like child's play.

"Her comprehension of the Dao is extraordinarily high."

Zhāng Zǐ Fán smiled, taking a deep breath. He had truly underestimated the daughter of the Holy Body. The catastrophe in the relics years ago had been a disaster for Yè Líng, but also a heaven-defying opportunity.

"She has forged her own path of ordinariness."

The Child of the Earth murmured, his gaze slightly dim, with both wariness and admiration. In just over twenty years, she had achieved such comprehension—her talent was no less than Yè Fán's.

"As expected, the Holy Body lineage are all monsters."

Even the modest Innate Dao Body couldn't help but click his tongue in amazement.

"So, their family now has four young emperor-level figures."

The old-timers wiped their brows, murmuring in astonishment.

One Yè Chén, one Yáo Chí, one Yè Fán, and one Yè Líng—out of the five young emperor-level figures in the realms, their family claimed four. Yè Chén and Yáo Chí led their generation, while Yè Fán and Yè Líng were destined to lead theirs.

"In the end, she's still a step behind Yè Fán."

"Nonsense, they both summoned seventeen imperial Dao law bodies."

"Yè Fán summoned eighteen, though the Emperor Venerable's law body dissipated."

"That doesn't matter—what's important is that she and Yè Fán are still a notch below Yè Chén and Yáo Chí."

Discussions abounded, with eyes wide in shock. The Holy Body family seemed to specialize in producing young emperors. If not for the Chaos Body holding things up, they might have cornered the market on young emperors in the realms.

Not just the people—even the Tiān Míng and Heavenly Emperors watched with sighs.

One family with four young emperors—looking across all of history, this was unique. In this era of imperial upheaval, there were so many surprises. That playful little girl, when serious, was truly terrifying.

Boom! Bang! Boom!

As the two emperors watched, Yè Líng had already engaged the seventeen emperors in battle.

The fight was brutal, her blood staining the stars.

Fortunately, she survived, though nearly dead.

The one who took her away was Hǔ Wá, who had been secretly protecting her and even brought an imperial weapon. Even without him, no one would dare act—killing Yè Líng would mean preparing for total clan extermination.

With the heavenly tribulation over, the crowd dispersed, many still lingering in thought. The younger generations were silent, the elders content.

A new generation was rising in the realms.

In the space black hole,

Yè Chén's sacred body trembled lightly, shaking off the dust from his shoulders.

Seeing this, Tiān Lǎo and Dì Lǎo rushed forward, one on each side.

Pfft! Pfft!

But their luck was poor—right as Yè Chén opened his eyes, two solid beams of light shot out, piercing a bloody hole in each of them.

Yè Chén acted as if nothing had happened, suddenly standing up and stretching lazily. His space-time Dao wounds were completely healed, and after over a decade, he was back at his peak. That long-lost feeling was exhilarating.

Exhilarated, he let out a roar.

His roar shook the heavens and earth, releasing the pent-up frustration of over a decade.

"The aura is as eye-catching as ever."

The quasi-emperors sighed, all stepping down from the altar. With Yè Chén recovered, their mission was complete. Moving the altar out would fulfill their duty.

Only Yè Chén remained on the altar, standing firm as law chains spread from under his feet like slithering snakes, locking down the entire altar.

In that instant, he activated the Great Wheel of Reincarnation Heavenly Dao to its fullest.

In that instant, he unleashed his peak combat power.

Buzz!

With a buzz, he vanished, and the altar vanished with him.

Pfft!

From the depths of the darkness came the sound of vomiting blood.

It was Hēi Páo Dì, his eyes filled with despair. The altar and its formations were gone, his millennia of effort wasted, never to be reclaimed.