Beyond Golden Pool Peak, specks of light from the shattered stars drifted down across the sky.
Han Feng stood motionless in the void. At his sides stood two Heavenly Supreme incarnations: Emperor Jun and Eastern Emperor.
Watching the white light fade across the sky, he said nothing. He merely straightened his green robe, clasped his hands, and bowed solemnly toward the empty air.
"Rest in peace, Senior."
Han Feng lowered his hands.
His duty as protector was done. There was no reason to stay.
He did not disturb Mandala in her grief. With a wave of his hand, the two incarnations turned into streaks of light and returned to his body.
He brought two fingers together like a sword and casually slashed the air before him.
Swish!
A pitch-black spatial rift tore open. Han Feng stepped through it and left Daluo Heaven.
The Great Thousand World was vast beyond measure.
Time flowed like water. In the blink of an eye, decades had passed.
In all those years, Han Feng had not gathered followers and built a faction like other ascenders, nor had he lingered on the prosperous continents.
Alone, he went to a place that made every expert in the Great Thousand World shudder: the Northern Wasteland Mound.
It was the front line where the Great Thousand World held back the Extraterrestrial Evil Tribe, and its bloodiest killing ground.
The dark-red earth reeked of blood all year round.
The sky was forever dim. Howling winds swept scarlet dust high into the air.
There, Han Feng began a hunt that would last decades.
His first kills were several Nether Demon Emperors comparable to Spirit Grade Heavenly Supremes.
One Nether Demon Emperor had six bone wings and excelled at concealment and assassination. He hid in a spatial storm for half a