Chapter 103: Gathering of the Great Figures

"Wangwu Mountain."

Late at night, the moonlight bathed the earth in silver, and all around was silent. Most people had already entered their cultivation states, but Lin Fan could not quiet his mind.

Three days had passed since his conversation with Xiang Zhenting. According to him, tomorrow many important figures would strike, intending to break the defensive formation outside Little Thunder Monastery.

"Miss Little Immortal is not here, and even Young Master Falling Flowers doesn’t know her whereabouts. But there shouldn’t be any major trouble."

The moment Lin Fan met Young Master Falling Flowers, he inquired about Yi Little Immortal. Unfortunately, the latter knew nothing, but Lin Fan was not too worried. If Yi Little Immortal used the Great Golden Roc Feather, even those at the Celestial realm would be no match, so safety was not an issue.

"Let’s leave these matters aside for now. I’ll wait for tomorrow when the great figures come knocking. Who knows what calamity they might stir up."

He closed his eyes, not intending to cultivate, but he wanted to adjust his state to its peak.

At dawn the next day, sunlight pierced through the black mist that had long shrouded Wangwu Mountain. The earth trembled, and a terrifying aura swept in from afar.

Lin Fan held his breath, not daring to extend his divine sense, for this was an old acquaintance.

Yi Ming strode forward like a dragon and tiger. Though merely at the peak of the Celestial realm, no one dared to underestimate him.

A nine-segmented whip radiated dazzling divine light, overwhelming the vast heavens. This was a true ancestral artifact, fully awakened and sublimated to its peak.

"Fellow Daoists, since you are here, come forth and meet," Yi Ming called out with a long cry. He was on the verge of reaching the Void-breaking realm, a true hero in his own right.

"Brother Yi, you are early. It seems you are fully confident," came a voice as the world trembled, radiant glows shimmering. The void ripped open with a loud crack, and a peerless master stepped out.

He wore a dragon crown, long robes, and possessed an invincible presence—the unmistakable bearing of one long in power. Every gesture carried terrifying majesty.

He was the Lord of the Ancient Buddha Domain, though nominal in title, for the domain was dominated by the Buddhist sect. Yet none dared to belittle him, for he had reached the peak of the Void-breaking realm. One more step and he would gain a title, enough to command a region. But that last step was as daunting as it was elusive—hence his willingness to come here and take risks.

"What the domain lord says is too much, but without some confidence, I doubt any of us would have dared come," Yi Ming replied with a half-smile. He was wary of the domain lord, or more precisely, of the small tower in his hand.

This, too, was a true ancestral artifact, passed down from the Great Jin Kingdom and possessing terrifying power. At the level of ancestral artifacts, there were subtle distinctions; Yi Ming’s nine-segmented whip was a low-grade ancestral artifact, on par with the domain lord’s small tower. However, the divine spirit of the tower had not fully awakened, so its power was slightly less than the whip’s.

"That’s true enough. The Purple Robe Pavilion and the Xiang family’s Daoists may also come forth," the domain lord nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He was calm and confident, his strength far surpassing Yi Ming’s; even if Yi Ming’s whip were a fully awakened mid-grade ancestral artifact, he would still be no match.

Purple qi surged, and divine light flooded from afar. A heavenly sword tore through the sky, drawing a river of time and space—this was the previous master of the Purple Robe Pavilion, already a figure in the Void-breaking realm.

"You two have arrived timely. This time, Little Thunder Monastery is doomed to be broken by us. Then we may observe the method for becoming emperor," the old master of Purple Robe Pavilion declared, his aura soaring. Though aged, his heroic spirit was unmatched, exuding a defiant will to battle heaven and earth.

"Indeed, fellow Daoist speaks the truth. Little Thunder Monastery shall be opened!" Another thunderous sound echoed; the world roared as an elder of the Xiang family finally arrived, bringing an ancestral artifact—a red furnace radiating waves that could burn the heavens and boil the seas.

Now the four great figures had all gathered, but they waited, not yet making a move.

After several breaths, a sharp whistling came from the horizon. Another great figure arrived—a man who appeared very young, but at the Void-breaking realm, a lifespan could stretch thousands of years. Perhaps before them stood a seasoned old monster.

"Greetings, four fellow Daoists," the young man spoke humbly, but none dared underestimate him. He was a renowned peerless figure, unaffiliated with any sect, his strength unfathomable—nearly invincible in the Void-breaking realm, and he too possessed an ancestral artifact.

"What an array—five ancestors of the Void-breaking realm, each bearing ancestral artifacts. If these five went to Tiandu Gate, the whole sect would topple; even if the hidden ancestors of the eight great houses struck together, it would be futile," Lin Fan mused, unable to resist comparing their strength to Tiandu Gate, and concluding as much.

It was only natural. The five in the void belonged to different factions, each with their own foundation. Combined, the five great forces would certainly surpass Tiandu Gate, though Tiandu Gate’s ancestors of the Void-breaking realm would not necessarily be inferior to these.

Thus one could see Tiandu Gate’s formidable power—it was truly a contender for the leading force of Poso County, fearsome indeed.

"Could there still be others yet to arrive? How many great figures have gathered here?" Lin Fan wondered after a while, for none of these figures had yet acted or chosen to break the gates.

Just then, a battleship appeared overhead. Its hull, thousands of feet long, charged forth like a mountain, exuding an indescribable sense of oppression.

"The Three Immortals of Peach Source have arrived. Now we may act," the domain lord of Ancient Buddha Domain announced, clearly recognizing those aboard the battleship, though they remained mysterious and never showed themselves.

The small tower burst forth with radiance, a massive pillar of light shooting into the heavens. Terrifying power descended, flooding the sky. In that moment, the tower’s divine spirit fully awakened, joining the domain lord in an unstoppable assault.

"Let us begin," cried the old master of Purple Robe Pavilion. A long sword appeared in his hand, its unmatched sharpness filling the world. Even those hundreds of miles away felt a bone-chilling cold.

The nine-segmented whip awakened, dominating its foes, breathing clouds and mist. Unlike other ancestral artifacts, it sublimated entirely on its own, without Yi Ming’s power, revealing the gap between Yi Ming and the other great figures. Without the whip, he would not even qualify to stand here.

The elder of the Xiang family struck; the furnace soared, growing larger, seeming to devour heaven and earth, its might boundless.

The figure with the youthful face also acted, but unexpectedly, he held a bamboo basket. Yet none dared disregard it, for it was a legendary secret treasure of the Buddhist sect.

In comparison, the Three Immortals of Peach Source unleashed the least imposing attack—a pillar of light rose from their battleship, shooting toward Little Thunder Monastery in the distance.

Six terrifying killing arts swept through the land, shattering the heavens, suffocating all who witnessed.