Chapter 1644: The Peerless Might

The ultimate battle had come to an end, yet the hearts of the onlookers remained unsettled. Who was this person? Where did he come from? To which era did he belong?

It was utterly staggering!

Blood rain still drifted through the sky, each drop capable of incinerating stars and severing galaxies, its power terrifying beyond measure.

However, those celestial bodies had surged in alongside him—they did not belong to this realm.

The colossal cauldron pulsed with divine radiance, primordial energy manifesting as it absorbed the scattered blood essence, drawing in even some of the stars before they vanished into its depths.

Only remnants of blood remained, purified of their supreme power, leaving behind crimson stains that dyed the heavens.

The man descended slowly, standing atop the cauldron as he moved.

At this moment, the sight was both magnificent and unparalleled!

A cauldron hovered in the void, a man standing upon it, gazing down upon the world with an air of supremacy. His figure was tall and upright, his long black hair cascading freely, his pupils deep and unfathomable, his heroic aura overwhelming—as if he were the ruler of all existence.

The cauldron was ancient and unadorned, forged from a fusion of immortal metals and primordial energy. As it pulsed, massive stars orbited around it, while above its mouth shimmered a resplendent river of stars, undulating in harmony with its movements.

The man approached atop the cauldron, his body stained with blood—some from his enemies, some his own.

Even one as mighty as he had sustained injuries, a testament to the ferocity of the battles he had endured. Clearly, his wounds were not inflicted by a single foe.

At the very least, the cauldron bore other marks—blade scars, arrow punctures, lingering sword qi—traces of the most formidable weapons, remnants of a world-shaking conflict.

And it must have happened not long ago.

For the cauldron was astonishing, capable of self-repair. Some of the marks were already fading, gradually disappearing.

The foreign realm’s millions-strong army stood on high alert!

To them, this being was an anomaly, appearing abruptly and instilling deep wariness.

Originally, they had been on the verge of breaching the Abyss. But now, with such a formidable entity appearing—was this a blessing or a curse?

At the very least, it would have been better had he not appeared!

Upon the walls of the Imperial Pass, the people watched, many trembling with anticipation, yearning for something to happen.

Yet, an elder sighed softly and said, “Our fate cannot be entrusted to another. Even if he wished to intervene, he lacks the means—he does not belong to this time. Should they truly clash, the consequences would be unpredictable!”

This was recorded in ancient bone scriptures—cultivators within the Imperial Pass were far from comprehending such realms.

“You should leave now.”

From within an ancient war chariot in the desert came a calm voice—youthful, not aged, as if spoken by a man in the prime of his years.

It was An Lan, speaking publicly for the first time!

Throughout his journey, he had disregarded all obstacles, yet now, facing this mysterious powerhouse, he was serious.

The man atop the cauldron remained silent, continuing his descent.

None could discern his true appearance, for he was shrouded in mist. Yet, it was clear that he, too, was in the prime of his life, exuding a vibrant life force.

His eyes were unfathomably deep, as if capable of piercing through eternity and unraveling the secrets of heaven.

“Moo…”

The golden-backed savage ox let out a thunderous groan, tormented by fear. As the man descended upon the cauldron, the beast’s bones creaked incessantly, on the verge of shattering.

Crack!

Finally, all four of its legs snapped. Earlier, it had knelt—now, it lay prostrate, trembling uncontrollably.

The scene was shocking. This was the ancient beast that pulled the chariot of an Immortal King—who would dare provoke it?

Yet, this mysterious powerhouse acted without restraint, descending slowly, his overwhelming aura causing the savage ox to shudder, its bones fracturing one after another.

A series of crisp snaps echoed as it collapsed.

Before this, the golden-backed ox had been arrogant, disdainful of the heavens and contemptuous of all within the Imperial Pass.

But now, it trembled, emitting pitiful groans.

The crowd was stunned. This mysterious powerhouse was terrifying, his divine might awe-inspiring. Was this a challenge to Immortal King An Lan?

To suppress his mount right before his eyes—what audacity!

Who would dare provoke an Immortal King? This man did, and he was doing so now!

On the walls of the Imperial Pass, some clenched their fists, their hearts surging with emotion, wishing they could take his place and kick that war chariot over!

“You know we cannot engage. If we do, this era—and the world behind you—will undergo catastrophic changes,” An Lan said, his tone still indifferent.

Behind him, the foreign realm’s experts clenched their fists in frustration. Why did An Lan not strike this man down?

Even the immortal beings struggled to remain composed, seething with indignation. This was an Immortal King—being openly challenged and pressured!

His mount’s legs had been broken—why did An Lan not act?

“The Abyss has been torn open. Our two eras, both embroiled in war, have collided at the peak of conflict, opening a gateway through time. You descended upon it, injuring my mount—this is not yet a storm. But if you press further, heaven and earth will be overturned!”

Boom!

In that instant, the war chariot erupted with light, chaotic energy surging forth.

For a moment, the entire world was illuminated.

An Lan had emerged!

Many could not keep their eyes open—the radiance was too intense. A humanoid figure stepped out of the chariot, one hand still supporting the Primordial Imperial City, the other gripping a golden ancient spear!

The spear was blinding, its golden luster illuminating past, present, and future, as if all epochs had converged into one eternal moment.

This spear had once pierced the Heavenly Horned Ant and slain Immortal Kings, its divine might shaking history itself.

An Lan stood revealed, his body wreathed in brilliance, too dazzling to behold directly. Like his golden spear, his aura was sharp and unyielding.

“I truly wish to kill you before returning,” the man atop the cauldron sighed, his voice tinged with regret and resignation.

His words sent shockwaves through the land!

On the walls of the Imperial Pass, the crowd was electrified. Such arrogance, such dominance—this was a true peerless expert!

The golden-backed ox’s earlier arrogance had stemmed from An Lan’s prestige, inciting anger. But this man’s casual disdain arose from his own invincible bearing, inspiring awe.

It was earth-shattering—this man was contemplating killing An Lan!

The foreign realm’s forces were dumbfounded. Millions of soldiers stood in disbelief. How could anyone dare speak like this?

“Come then, if you dare. Even while bearing the Abyss and holding up the Primordial Imperial City with one hand, I, An Lan, remain invincible in this world!”

An Lan smiled faintly, his confidence absolute.

On the ground, the golden-backed ox scrambled backward, its bones fractured in dozens of places, yet it retreated swiftly, utterly terrified of that level of existence.

Fortunately, the cauldron and its master paid it no further heed, and the primordial energy ceased its descent.

“A dilemma—to kill or not to kill?” the man murmured, as if weighing his options.

Every spectator’s nerves were taut. Was he serious?

“If you truly wished to fight, you would not hesitate. Your time here is limited—return. I sense we will meet again in the future, and then we shall battle!” An Lan declared.

“Why?” Some from the foreign realm could not understand, eager for An Lan to strike now.

A sphere of light emerged—Yu Tuo had appeared!

He spoke softly, “You exist in different eras. Should you truly clash, the heavens will collapse, the earth will split, time will be thrown into chaos—perhaps everything will cease to exist!”

Yu Tuo’s words revealed the truth—neither side could afford to escalate this conflict.

“It seems you have no shortage of enemies in your own time,” An Lan remarked, observing the man’s bloodstained form. Some of the blood belonged to his foes, some to himself.

Indeed, this peerless expert bore wounds. Despite his immense power, he had been injured—proof of the brutal battles waged in his era.

“Only through such trials can one forge an invincible body, capable of traversing the river of time,” the mysterious powerhouse replied with a carefree laugh.

At that moment, upon the Imperial Pass’s walls, a single figure wept—her emotions a mix of excitement and sorrow, tinged with worry.

It was Ye Qingxian, an enigmatic presence within the Imperial Pass, rarely seen and often secluded.

Some said she had been in seclusion all this time.

Even when Shi Hao had been handed over to the foreign realm, she had missed the event.

Yet today, she had emerged, gazing at the man atop the cauldron with tear-filled eyes.

Her form wavered, even blurring slightly, until the mark of an immortal bell upon her resonated gently, restoring her stability.

“We do not belong to the same era. I cannot change anything, nor can I act,” the mysterious man sighed. Time was immutable!

He turned, standing upon the cauldron, and said, “This is not my first journey across the river of time. Coincidentally, I have done so once before. Yet, like this time, it was not the era I sought to witness. However, I did make a discovery—a drop of blood, akin to mine yet belonging to this epoch, once followed me before inexplicably returning to this world.”

A drop of blood?

Why was he saying this? Was it a clue?

On the walls, the Witch shuddered. She remembered—during the Three Thousand Provinces’ genius competition, Shi Hao had discovered a drop of blood within the Immortal Ancient ruins’ soil of all things.

Back then, she had even glimpsed a cauldron—identical to the one this mysterious powerhouse now stood upon.

That drop of blood had been left behind by the cauldron.