This was a domain woven from light, possessing no physical ground, only myriad streams of radiance that seemed to coalesce into billows of white cloud and blossoming lotus flowers—all incomparably pure and sacred. Countless other forms of luminous flora also graced this space.
This was the threshold of the Sacred Land of Civilization.
Everything here was composed of light, yet simultaneously, there existed nearly twenty thousand dimensional rifts, each one emanating a soft glow, signifying an exit—someone was emerging.
Not far off hung a digital roster, displaying the exact count of individuals who had arrived at the Gate of the Sacred Land of Civilization. If the count exceeded fifteen thousand, the remainder would fail.
Notorious figures such as the Imperial Sons of the Dharma Saint and the Imperial Son of the Martial Saint had long since arrived. Prominent names like Kong Ni, Meng Wei, Su Yuemian, and Kong Mingde were all present, without exception. They had certainly encountered numerous hardships within the Void Passages, but facing trials was their specialty; relying on their profound strength and seasoned experience, they had overcome obstacles to reach this point.
They all cast their gazes toward the roster. The number currently displayed was 14,801.
With a swoosh, another figure appeared—Heng Zhan of the Hengdao Sect—making the count 14,802.
Moments later, another swoosh, and another arrival: True Man Nanhua, who had once clashed with Lu Yuan in the arena and passed only due to Lu Yuan’s exceptional performance. The count now stood at 14,835.
With 14,835 people already present, a wave of immense surprise rippled through the assembled crowd.
What kind of surprise was this?
The Son of the Desolate Lands—the one everyone had anticipated—had not yet appeared. Indeed, the most closely watched figure, arguably the strongest among them all, had yet to materialize. With only 165 spots remaining before the cut-off of fifteen thousand, if the Son of the Desolate Lands did not appear within this final group, he would truly be eliminated.
Surely such a dramatic turn of events wouldn't happen?
The Son of the Desolate Lands was potentially the mightiest of them all, yet he was on the verge of being disqualified before even entering the Sacred Land.
If such a thing truly occurred, the ensuing spectacle would be enormous.
The crowd buzzed with speculation as to why the Son of the Desolate Lands had delayed his arrival.
The Imperial Son of the Dharma Saint frowned slightly. Though he bore injuries inflicted by the Son of the Desolate Lands, he had to concede the opponent’s power was outrageously potent. Logically, the twenty thousand Void Passages should not have been enough to stop him—unless he had drawn the one specific route known among them. In that network of twenty thousand channels, one was notoriously labeled the most difficult, boasting a passage success rate of zero.
Zero, indeed.
From antiquity to the present, no one had ever successfully navigated that particular path.
Rumor had it that the most arduous passage was fraught with overwhelming perils. If the Son of the Desolate Lands had indeed entered that specific route, the possibility of his failure to pass was far from slim.
“What do you think is the reason the Son of the Desolate Lands hasn't appeared yet?”
“Could he really have encountered the most difficult passage?”
“If he did meet the hardest passage, the drama will be immense! The Son of the Desolate Lands will be eliminated, unable to even enter the Sacred Land.”
“If the Son of the Desolate Lands cannot enter, our chances increase!” A few powerhouses, hearing that the strongest contender might be eliminated, suddenly glowed with excitement. If the Son of the Desolate Lands were present, he would undoubtedly consume too many resources. They could hardly believe their luck—the potentially strongest competitor might be wiped out so easily before the event even began.
Just as the discussions reached a fever pitch, a flash of light erupted, and the Son of the Desolate Lands strode out from one of the rifts, clad in his Ink Jade Battle Robe and gripping the Primordial Halberd. His Ink Jade Qilin Robe bore a few marks from blade strikes, but he himself appeared vigorous and unscathed. He was the 14,836th arrival.
What a shame, what a shame. He had missed the elimination threshold by the narrowest margin.
The Imperial Son of the Desolate Saint rushed forward. “Why so late this time?” The Imperial Son of the Desolate Saint was slightly weaker than the Imperial Son of the Dharma Saint, and naturally inferior to the Son of the Desolate Lands. Moreover, he knew that despite his own status as a Saint Child, in the eyes of the Lord of the Ancient Desolate Civilization, this Era’s Child—the Son of the Desolate Lands—was far more significant.
“I encountered the most difficult passage. It took some effort.”
It was true! The Son of the Desolate Lands had indeed entered the path with a zero historical success rate.
Even so, he passed through unharmed. The sheer power of the Son of the Desolate Lands was terrifying. With him present in the Sacred Land of Civilization this time, the difficulty level would be significantly raised.
“By the way, now that the Son of the Desolate Lands is here, where is Lu Yuan?” A few people whispered amongst themselves.
“More than two years ago, Lu Yuan was gravely injured by the Son of the Desolate Lands, nearly killed. Now he’s like a stray dog. Wherever the Son of the Desolate Lands appears, Lu Yuan wouldn't dare show his face,” someone sneered. Lu Yuan had never vanished before; his disappearance for over two years following his severe injury by the Son of the Desolate Lands led many to suspect he had been utterly terrified into hiding.
“Lu Yuan is the Eighth Child of Fortune, after all. He shouldn't be afraid to fight,” someone remarked as the count hit 14,905.
14,920. Lu Yuan still had not appeared.
14,935. The possibility of Lu Yuan showing up seemed to dwindle with every passing moment.
14,965. Lu Yuan remained absent.
14,983. Lu Yuan still hadn't emerged. The Imperial Son of the Dharma Saint shook his head. He hadn't heard anything of Lu Yuan these past two years, hoping to see him at the Sacred Land entrance, but alas, he was absent again. Still, Lu Yuan’s non-appearance was perhaps prudent; the Son of the Desolate Lands was too terrifying. Few whom he targeted survived. The Imperial Son of the Dharma Emperor laughed heartily. “Imperial Son of the Dharma Saint, it seems Lu Yuan won't be coming. He is truly a hunted dog now.” He felt immense satisfaction. In his power struggle with the Dharma Saint, seeing Lu Yuan grow stronger posed a potential threat as he might aid the Dharma Saint. But now that Lu Yuan appeared to have fled in fear, his momentum was entirely lost. At best, Lu Yuan’s future achievements would only match that of the Son of the Sword.
14,995. The next emergence was Hu Yueming, a fox-eared maiden, representing the Fox Civilization. The young maiden patted her chest. “So close, so close! I almost didn't make it.” The gesture of her patting her ample chest drew considerable attention.
14,996. A cold, stern man in black attire and a black crown flashed out. This man was Ye Juhei, also a Half-Step World Realm expert. After appearing, he glanced at the data and visibly relaxed. It wasn't that those who ranked higher were stronger; the twenty thousand passages each presented unique circumstances, meaning there was no inherent strength hierarchy. Success was measured only by arriving before the 15,000 mark.
14,999. A young man in cyan robes, carrying a sword on his shoulder, flickered out. Lu Yuan! It was Lu Yuan! Lu Yuan gasped for breath, then checked the number: 14,999. How narrow! Damn it, the so-called longest passage was no joke. He had barely managed to arrive. This time, he had skirted disaster by the slimmest margin. The Imperial Son of the Dharma Saint approached. “Oh? Why so late?”
“I hit the Longest Passage among the twenty thousand. I only made it through sheer luck.”
“The Longest Passage.” The Imperial Son of the Dharma Saint frowned. While the Longest Passage was certainly not as perilous as the Most Difficult Passage the Son of the Desolate Lands faced, it was still exceptionally challenging. Its passage rate was notoriously low, causing countless aspirants to fail. To pass before the 15,000 mark was, therefore, quite fortunate.
A beam of light flashed, and the 15,000th person emerged. This individual was incredibly lucky, making it just under the wire. He was none other than Qian Shengqian of the Money Civilization. The Money Civilization was unique, cultivating through a fervent, almost greedy devotion to wealth. Their weapons often consisted of golden ingots and copper coins, each possessing its own subtle advantages. Those unfamiliar with the Money Civilization often suffered unexpected harm from their strange techniques. Qian Shengqian was a portly man who let out a deep sigh. “Finally made it! That was too close! But they say great misfortune precedes great fortune. I’m sure this training in the Sacred Land of Civilization will bring me immense benefits! Ha ha ha!” As he laughed, his double chin jiggled, exuding an air of prosperous nobility.
All fifteen thousand had finally arrived. Everyone remaining, no matter how close they were to the Gate of the Sacred Land of Civilization, would be completely eliminated. The passage leading to the Sacred Land instantly sealed shut. Those left behind could only retreat the way they came; they had failed.
These five thousand individuals undoubtedly felt a deep sense of grievance. Obtaining a place to enter the Sacred Land was not easy, only to be rejected at the threshold. But there was nothing they could do. Reality was brutal; they were eliminated.
“Oh, Lu Yuan. You have incredible nerve, daring to show yourself before me.” The Son of the Desolate Lands spotted Lu Yuan. Holding the Primordial Halberd, he advanced with the imposing gait of a dragon, his aura so immense that others naturally backed away, clearing a path for him.
This was the Son of the Desolate Lands—a god among gods, a demon among demons.
His demeanor was utterly domineering. If he willed Lu Yuan to die, Lu Yuan must die.
“Since you’ve come, die here,” the Son of the Desolate Lands roared, his tone absolute, as if he could command all life itself.
Lu Yuan also noticed his sword trembling—it was vibrating with excitement. He, too, was intensely thrilled. The shame of being defeated by the Son of the Desolate Lands back then was etched deep within his memory. Now, finally facing his nemesis, an infinite surge of fighting spirit welled up within him. “Son of the Desolate Lands, if you want a fight, then fight!”
What spirit from Lu Yuan! Facing the overwhelmingly powerful Son of the Desolate Lands, his presence did not yield in the slightest as he issued his challenge.
The Imperial Son of the Dharma Saint’s mind raced, formulating a plan.