Return to the Big Dipper

In this process, the demonic technique issue could be resolved in one fell swoop.

"I need the Ruthless Bloodline's two lifetimes of techniques—the Heaven Swallowing Demonic Art and the Indestructible Heavenly Art—along with a large number of such notes to study."

With no path ahead, Zhang Huan planned to return to the Big Dipper to seek these things. The Great Powers of the Big Dipper would be the best help.

After all, the Ruthless Bloodline originated in the Big Dipper, and there had always been a group of cultivators claiming to be her bloodline.

In later generations, they hid within the Shaking Light Sacred Land, constantly active—forcing Hua Yunfei of the Great Profound Sect to cultivate the Heaven Swallowing Demonic Art and committing many other evils. But where they were hidden in the present age was unknown.

At the same time, it was best to forge some alliances, gaining allies to help deal with the master of the demonic art hiding behind the scenes in the future.

Now that he was a Great Sage and held an Imperial Weapon, he was unafraid even of a Quasi-Emperor. The Supreme Dao forces would have to extend an olive branch, eager to curry favor with Zhang Huan.

With the coordinates in hand, Zhang Huan deduced a path, stepped onto the void, and set out. Along the way, he jumped through Five-Colored Altars, advancing through endless darkness.

Though he spotted some Sages, no one dared to make a move against Zhang Huan. Deep in the vast starry sky, faint light scattered. After hundreds of jumps, he finally saw the Big Dipper.

The giant star radiated a vast Life Aura, with five continents distributed in a pattern, resembling a Five-Colored Altar.

This was the body of an ancient Chaos Body, transformed and shaped into land, used by Ancient Supreme Beings to charge the Path to Immortality.

Passing through the atmosphere, he saw the Seven Forbidden Zones from the distant sky. Though he felt no pressure, an inexplicable tremor stirred in his heart.

Even a Great Sage could not stare too long. The Forbidden Zones were mysterious and terrifying, with unfathomable power—the resting places of undying Ancient Supreme Beings. The higher one's cultivation, the more one could sense the horror within.

Zhang Huan restrained his Essence, Qi, and Spirit, silently descending into a stretch of mountains and rivers, strolling through villages and between yellow sand and gravel.

Not far off, a band of bandits was collecting annual fees. Seeing the name on their banner, Zhang Huan narrowed his eyes.

Black Wind Stockade!

The starting point of this life—a den of bandits, steeped in evil.

In his Second Life, they and the force behind them had hunted him over half a Source Art Fragment. At the time, his strength was too low, and he died without ever knowing which power backed Black Wind Stockade.

Seeing the stockade still standing now, Zhang Huan sneered twice and blasted the entire group to death.

Leaping up, he flew to the Black Wind Stockade's lair. With a sweep of his Spiritual Sense, he found the one with the highest cultivation.

"Now, immediately summon all the bandits in your stockade back here!"

With his back to the tiger-skin bone stool, Zhang Huan effortlessly took control of the chieftain, who had been sitting there ravaging a woman for pleasure.

After issuing the order, Zhang Huan first asked who was backing Black Wind Stockade's activities. A few days later, when most of the bandits had returned, he released the kidnapped laborers and beauties.

He conjured a palm that covered the sky, stirring the shifting sands, and slammed it down, crushing Black Wind Stockade into the gravel.

Not long after, Zhang Huan arrived at the lair of the Demonic Sun Cult, ten thousand miles away. He took control of its Cult Lord, who was at the Four Extremes Realm, and erased the sect in the same way.

The Yin Hu Sect, the White Lotus Sect. For days on end, he traced the chain of interests step by step, slaughtering freely, and in one fell swoop destroyed many Ten Thousand Year Great Sects.

Walking across the Eastern Wasteland, Zhang Huan subdued several Great Powers in various places and ordered them to search with full force for any information on the Ruthless Bloodline.

Visiting the various Sacred Lands, Zhang Huan was treated with courtesy and told many secrets.

He returned to the site where he had once founded his Holy Religion. A thousand years later, it was far more magnificent than before, having developed quite well. Every morning, the sound of hymns praising the Cult Master echoed for a thousand miles, never fading.

The Acting Cult Master was a Sage, dressed in white robes with red patterns, holding the Holy Scripture and constantly sharing insights with the followers.

Even after a thousand years, none of the Sacred Lands had made trouble—unexpected.

Entering the ornate palace, Zhang Huan secretly met with the Acting Cult Master and gave him tasks as well.

Alone, it would take who knows how long to find information on his own. It was best to let those below do the work, saving himself the trouble.

Traveling through the Eastern Wasteland, Zhang Huan met many Sages. The overall strength of cultivators in the Big Dipper had also surged.

Over the past thousand years, new experts had emerged endlessly. Currently, almost all the Sacred Lands had promoted their rising younger generation as Holy Lords.

Exchanging insights with some Saint King experts, he filled in some gaps he had previously overlooked. Zhang Huan wanted to seek some opportunities, searching in places rumored to hold them.

Yet months passed, and he found no trace.

Though the Eastern Wasteland held countless opportunities, very few crossed Zhang Huan's path.

He searched some places from memory, but the results were unsatisfying. The Big Dipper was vast and boundless, and this era was over a hundred thousand years away from Ye Fan's time—most of his memories were useless.

At this time, Purple Mountain was still Ancient Emperor Mountain, Revered by all races, its momentum immense. Saint Cliff had yet to appear. The only places that matched were the Ten Thousand Dragon Nest, the Ancient Imperial Dynasty, and such sites that had endured through the ages.

As a Great Sage, Zhang Huan didn't even have a single impressive secret technique. He had never even seen the Nine Secrets, and he still hadn't found suitable materials for his own Great Sage Artifact.

Compared to some Saint Kings he had met, his wealth was lacking. Previously, he had focused solely on cultivation, paying little attention to combat techniques and resource acquisition.

"But I have the Heaven Swallowing Demonic Jar as a safety net, so I don't need to care about these external things."

Zhang Huan muttered.

Crushing others with higher cultivation—let them cultivate their divine powers and secret arts. In the end, if they didn't want to die, they'd still be at his mercy.

When facing life-or-death crises, what mattered was having a killing weapon. Nothing compared to the security of this half-complete Imperial Weapon.

Cultivation was earned through one's own effort, while techniques and secret arts were external gains. So bullying the weak in battle wasn't shameful.

Saint City, also called Divine City.

This place had existed since ancient times, its origins long untraceable, its age unknown.

Zhang Huan came here, hoping to see if he could encounter those strange stones that Ye Fan would later cut open in future generations.

The Kirin Undying Medicine Seed and Humanoid Undying Medicine he had opened would stir even an Ancient Great Emperor—they were rare wonders, divine medicines that seized heaven and earth's very creation.

He remembered descriptions of them; if he saw them, he'd definitely recognize them.

Even if he didn't find those, he could still cut out some treasures.

He had once cultivated Source Art, and with his Great Sage cultivation, he should gain something—he had some confidence.

One cut wouldn't leave him with nothing; at least he could open something.

The city was bustling, with towering halls and wide ancient streets, everything one could need, complete in every way. Its most famous trait was its extreme luxury, with enough Source to indulge in pleasure and dissipation.

Almost all the Major Powers had set up Stone Gambling here, on a massive scale.

Entering the city, Zhang Huan marveled—the Gambling Houses here flaunted themselves openly, a rare sight elsewhere.

He walked to a roadside stall where a dozen stones were casually laid out. Zhang Huan glanced at the stall owner, his heart stirring slightly—this was an Old Saint nearing his end.

Seemed like he was retiring from the world, setting up here to spend his last few days.

But Zhang Huan caught a familiar trace of demonic aura on him and decided to test the Old Saint's depth.

Seeing the Old Saint at ease with no reaction, Zhang Huan took the initiative to pick up a stone and examine it.

"There should be something good inside—the spiritual energy is active, likely a Heavenly Material and Earthly Treasure."

Probing inside with Source Art, Zhang Huan was ninety percent sure.

"Old Man, how much for this stone?"

Zhang Huan had restrained his cultivation, his aura no different from an ordinary person's, so he wasn't detected.

"Fixed price, ten jin of Source. But you have to buy three Stone Materials at once, or I won't sell!"

The Old Man exhaled a puff of white smoke, took his pipe away, opened his eyes, and glanced sideways.

"Three pieces? Ten jin of Source is already no small amount—thirty jin isn't something just anyone can pull out."

Zhang Huan asked curiously why the Old Saint set it that way.

"These stones are my lifetime's collection, all extraordinary. Thirty jin of Source is absolutely worth it."

Then he changed his tone.

"But since you seem fated, I'll sell you three for ten jin of Source. Sigh."

Perhaps thinking a mortal like Zhang Huan really couldn't scrape together that much Source, the Old Saint easily relented, sighing as he spoke with nostalgia.

At the same time, he released a trace of Saint Power, controlling its force so Zhang Huan could sense his extraordinary nature.

"This man's mind doesn't seem like those Old Saints who've truly withdrawn into the mortal world—deliberately showing off his cultivation, what's he plotting?"

Zhang Huan guessed he was either fishing for prey or hiding some secret.

If it were anyone else, they'd probably be weeping with gratitude, counting themselves lucky for such a fortune.

But Zhang Huan pretended to be stunned, then acted like a normal person.

"Then thank you, Old Man."

There weren't many good items on this stall. Zhang Huan picked two more stones, and the Old Man's face lit up, his brows lifting slightly.

Under Zhang Huan's perception, the hand holding the pipe unconsciously tightened.

Handing over ten jin of Source, Zhang Huan left with a smile under the Old Man's hawk-like gaze.

"Leave the city. This one's strange—capture him and interrogate him."

Ever since leaving the stall, the Old Saint had been watching him, following far behind.

Zhang Huan planned to wait and see, letting the other come to him.

On a moonless, windy night in the mountain forest, Zhang Huan sat quietly in meditation. The Old Man stepped out from behind a towering ancient tree.

"Blame yourself for having no power yet carrying Source Art, and me running into you."

The Old Man had no qualms, talking to himself as if Zhang Huan was already his prey.

He walked closer step by step, his eyes growing more terrifying, demonic aura rising in his hands, intending to refine Zhang Huan on the spot and take everything.

"This Old Saint is dying. The longer I live, the more unwilling I am. I want to keep living. Watching my Wheel of Life wither day by day—can you understand that torment?"

"Lend me your Source Art, help this Old Saint find some ancient medicines and divine fruits, and let me live a little longer. I'll remember your kindness."

As if justifying himself, he muttered, his face even taking on a pitying expression.

"Hey, why aren't you afraid of me?"

Seeing Zhang Huan staring at him, unmoved as he approached step by step, the Old Saint was baffled.

"Why should I be afraid?"

Zhang Huan raised an eyebrow, speaking calmly.

"You, you—"

"Shut up and die!"

Before he could continue, Zhang Huan cut him off, and surging Saint Power erupted around him, flooding the surroundings.

A single rebuke carried the force of law, striking the old saint like an unbearable pressure, forcing him to his knees as blood bubbled from his mouth.

In an instant, the tide turned completely. The old saint trembled like a sieve.

"You—ah—"

On his terrified face, Zhang Huan could no longer see any trace of feigned posturing.

"Filthy cur. Say one more word about refining me. Try it."

Zhang Huan sneered, mimicking him as he raised a demonic palm and slammed it directly onto his crown, smashing a gaping hole, flesh and blood mangled.

A few slaps later, the old saint's pleas for mercy faded. His Primordial Spirit, like a startled bird, tried to flee as a streak of light, but Zhang Huan grabbed it and began refining it on the spot.

"Saints, this old fool has eyes but failed to recognize your stature—a misunderstanding!"

Ignoring his pleas, Zhang Huan delved deep into his consciousness, devouring the marks of his life without a moment's pause.

After a short while, Zhang Huan broke through the Left behind restrictions, laid bare the sealed memories, and completely refined the old saint's Primordial Spirit.