The land far ahead stretched out in unbroken flatness, an endless expanse of the Eastern and Western Plains visible from this vantage point.

When He Yiming once again set foot upon this terrain, a peculiar sensation, as if stepping across epochs, washed over him.

Gazing into the distance, he could faintly discern the outline of Ghost Cry Ridge. The mere thought of the colossal serpentine dragon coiled atop its peak sent an unbidden shiver down his spine, even given He Yiming's current strength.

Having completed this westward journey, He Yiming now fully grasped the terrifying scale and power hidden beneath the surface of those renowned Sacred Lands.

Franklin, leveraging the Light Power of the Western Temple, could contend with the might of heaven and earth unleashed by the Divine Path Blood-Coagulated Man, holding his own without yielding ground. Therefore, within Ghost Cry Ridge—this cultivation sanctuary jointly established by Eastern and Western powerhouses—there must reside a formidable power no less potent than that of the Western Temple.

This was a branching manifestation of the power of darkness: the power of blood.

If he were to clash with the serpentine dragon inside Ghost Cry Ridge, He Yiming was certain that even if he himself remained unaffected by the baleful Yin energies, he would ultimately be forced to flee in defeat. For no one could claim supremacy before a dragon whose power drew upon the boundless might of blood.

Unless Franklin were somehow resurrected and transplanted the entire Western Temple to Ghost Cry Ridge, that massive serpent would remain an absolute sovereign within those peaks.

Of course, should the serpentine dragon venture away from its ancestral lair in Ghost Cry Ridge, then perhaps he could contemplate taking on the role of a dragon slayer. The prerequisite, naturally, would be securing the assent of the two Sacred Beasts; otherwise, with them dragging their feet, He Yiming wouldn't stand a chance of achieving that legendary feat.

Bao Zhu sprang from He Yiming's embrace, emitting contented grunts filled with palpable happiness.

He Yiming smiled faintly. He knew the little creature perceived Ghost Cry Ridge, where the dragon slept, as its true home. And for an expatriate returning home after a long absence, such joy was boundless.

Cradling Bao Zhu and riding White Horse Lightning, He Yiming soon arrived at the periphery of Ghost Cry Ridge.

The imposing cliffs and sheer precipices that encircled the entire mountain range posed no obstacle to White Horse Lightning; it traversed the terrain as if running on level ground.

Although White Horse Lightning had successfully achieved the light-form transformation of its divine weapon, it was evident the beast still preferred to move with all four hooves pounding the earth. Moreover, frankly speaking, if pure speed was the metric, the horse's running pace surpassed even its velocity when soaring on lightning.

Within Ghost Cry Ridge, the dense Yin Sha Qi still permeated everything, and the power of heaven and earth was thick. However, after experiencing the divine might unleashed by the Divine Path Blood-Coagulated Man, He Yiming and his company no longer felt the profound shock that such concentrations of power usually inspired.

Yet, looking up toward the distant summit, He Yiming could not help but muse.

Ancient texts recorded that thousands of years ago, before the Divine Path experts vanished, when conflicts erupted among those of the Divine Path, battles would often drag on for days before a victor emerged.

During these struggles, splitting mountains and reversing rivers were commonplace occurrences.

He Yiming had once viewed these accounts with skepticism, but after witnessing the Divine Path Blood-Coagulated Man in action once, he was entirely convinced.

The practitioners of the Divine Path wielded monumental power with every gesture. If they fought for days, then splitting mountains and cracking stones were truly nothing more than child's play.

What truly captivated and inspired longing in He Yiming’s heart, however, was the sheer consumption of heaven and earth power required for those multi-day battles of the Divine Path era. He suspected that all the combined power of Ghost Cry Ridge would barely amount to a speck of dust in comparison.

This revelation underscored the unimaginable richness of the heaven and earth energies available in the Divine Path age, and what a truly fortunate existence those cultivators must have led.

A rumble, deep as crashing thunder, echoed down from the peak. Bao Zhu leaped up with excitement, and an equally formidable roar of draconic might erupted from its tiny frame.

He Yiming’s expression shifted slightly. They had just entered the dark mists of Ghost Cry Ridge, and the serpentine dragon on the summit had already detected their presence, using its voice to engage in some form of communication with Bao Zhu.

He faintly perceived that this dragon seemed stronger than the first time they met, or perhaps it was simply more attuned to subtle shifts in its surroundings.

Bao Zhu suddenly hopped onto White Horse Lightning’s neck, clinging tightly as it huffed a few phrases. Seemingly understanding the message, White Horse Lightning also lifted its head and emitted a sound brimming with authority.

Accompanying this sound was a rolling peal of thunder and lightning.

The dragon on the summit cried out again, but He Yiming could now detect a thread of elation in its tone. The serpentine creature was genuinely cheering for White Horse Lightning, which shared the blood of the same divine beast.

A faint sound drifted from behind them, causing He Yiming to pause momentarily. He turned his head, and his expression abruptly changed.

Behind them, the Divine Path Blood-Coagulated Man was acting atypically, extending both hands while massive amounts of Yin Sha Qi flowed into his body. Furthermore, a subtle, faint red halo began to shimmer in his eyes.

This was the unique marker of the Blood-Coagulated Man; when that hue deepened to a vibrant crimson, it signaled the moment he could unleash his maximum power.

He Yiming inwardly cursed his situation. He quickly sent a mental command through their psychic link, ordering the Divine Path Blood-Coagulated Man to cease absorbing the Yin Sha Qi.

The Blood-Coagulated Man seemed to hesitate, but ultimately did not defy He Yiming’s will. His posture shifted slightly, and the surging Yin Sha Qi immediately halted its inflow, slowly stabilizing.

The power currently wielded by the Divine Path Blood-Coagulated Man was extraordinary, far surpassing that of the Three Flower experts of yesteryear. If allowed to fully absorb the Yin Sha Qi, he would undoubtedly alert the master of this domain. The serpentine dragon possessed a notoriously short temper; if it took offense at the Blood-Coagulated Man’s presence, a battle ensuing would be something no one desired, so He Yiming had to prevent such an outcome by any means necessary.

Bao Zhu flapped its front hooves vigorously, clearly urging them towards the peak. He Yiming scooped up the little creature, and they proceeded toward the highest point with practiced familiarity.

At the summit of Ghost Cry Ridge, the concentration of Yin Sha Qi was densest. Any other party arriving here would have been strictly warned to keep away from the pinnacle, but He Yiming and his companions paid it no mind.

A pair of immense eyes blinked with brilliant luminescence, like lanterns in the deepest night, fixed upon them with boundless curiosity.

Then, a colossal wave of pressure emanated from the serpentine dragon. It was an immense force, tightening around them like invisible ropes, crushing the air from their lungs.

Had this been their first encounter, facing such pressure would have been nearly unbearable for everyone present, save for Hundred-and-Eight.

But now, even Little Bao Zhu merely grunted a few times before dismissing the pressure entirely.

Although He Yiming and the others made no aggressive moves, an aura of subtle, unyielding power radiated from them—a supreme force undeniably capable of matching the serpentine dragon's pressure.

As for Hundred-and-Eight, he remained utterly unmoved, solid as a boulder, impervious to the dragon’s might regardless of its intensity.

The Divine Path Blood-Coagulated Man’s reaction was even stranger: his body acted like a black hole, its unfathomable depths greedily devouring the dragon's emanating aura and pressure.

He Yiming observed the Blood-Coagulated Man with astonished eyes. Aura and pressure were indeed forms of energy, yet they were ephemeral—not tangible like True Qi or Yin Sha Qi. Even so, the Blood-Coagulated Man was managing to draw them into his body, a feat that defied belief.

The Blood-Coagulated Man’s display immediately captured the dragon's attention. The behemoth fixed its enormous gaze upon this miraculous figure.

With its depth of power, the serpentine dragon could faintly perceive the vast might hidden within the Blood-Coagulated Man’s form.

Specifically, the Divine Path Sarira embedded in his brow far surpassed the latent power of any powerhouse currently existing in the world. Perhaps only the enigmatic figure on the Divine Island overseas could claim power comparable to that relic.

A soft hiss escaped the dragon’s maw—a sound laced with a dual nature of threat and deep respect.

In that very instant, the colossal creature acknowledged the strength of the Divine Path Blood-Coagulated Man.

He Yiming breathed a sigh of relief. Before entering Ghost Cry Ridge, his greatest fear was that the serpentine dragon would clash with the Blood-Coagulated Man.

After all, the cultivation technique practiced by the Blood-Coagulated Man was fundamentally antagonistic to the serpentine dragon’s innate abilities.

Both possessed an intense craving for Yin Sha Qi; in this respect, they were natural adversaries. But now it seemed that as long as the Blood-Coagulated Man refrained from provoking the dragon, the conflict He Yiming worried about was highly unlikely to materialize.

“Revered Lord Serpent,” He Yiming inclined his head deeply toward the dragon, “Bao Zhu and Lightning have journeyed here to pay their respects. Please forgive any intrusion.”

This serpentine dragon had lived for untold years and possessed profound wisdom; He Yiming treated it as he would any equal sovereign.

The dragon’s massive head nodded slightly, and it let out a soft roar. The dragon was markedly pleased by the deference He Yiming intentionally displayed, and its expression conveyed that it no longer regarded He Yiming as an insignificant figure, but rather as an equal among the powerful.

Sensing the deference emanating from the mighty dragon, He Yiming felt a profound welling of emotion.

He was no longer the desperate youth who had once sought sanctuary in Ghost Cry Ridge.

Lifting his gaze, He Yiming swept his eyes over his companions, as if looking beyond the endless mist toward the distant northwest. Unconsciously, his fists slowly tightened at his sides.

A single question stirred within his heart.

Have I truly reached the apex of this world?

Ps: Currently in parent-teacher conference ^_^ Seeking monthly passes, recommendation tickets...