Lan Xiaobu grew increasingly astonished. Fang Zhifan had clearly been severely injured by him—not only that, but more than half of his Great Dao foundation had been destroyed. In essence, this guy’s strength was now at most equivalent to an ordinary Quasi-Saint. If that were the case, his speed shouldn’t be this fast. Yet, Lan Xiaobu felt that Fang Zhifan’s speed was astonishingly quick—so quick that he couldn’t catch up.
And this was despite Lan Xiaobu having teleportation techniques at his disposal. Even with them, the distance between him and Fang Zhifan never shrank. If he hadn’t mastered teleportation, he might’ve already lost him entirely.
If Fang Zhifan hadn’t been injured and his Great Dao were intact, how could Lan Xiaobu possibly keep up? The only relief for Lan Xiaobu was that Fang Zhifan didn’t seem intent on escaping the Eternal Life Realm. Otherwise, with this speed in the void, Lan Xiaobu likely wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Sensing Lan Xiaobu closing in, Fang Zhifan frantically unleashed his escape techniques. His Great Dao foundation was damaged, but he didn’t care about anything else—just fleeing for his life. No matter what, he couldn’t let himself fall into Lan Xiaobu’s hands. He’d heard that Lan Xiaobu could unlock a Saint’s world, and he absolutely couldn’t allow his own world to be breached.
At this moment, Fang Zhifan was equally puzzled. He felt his escape techniques flowing almost effortlessly, as if he’d reached a state of perfect mastery. It was clearly the assistance of the Heavenly Dao’s laws, yet he’d been abandoned by the Eternal Life Realm’s Heavenly Dao before. If not, how could he have been so desperate to capture Lan Xiaobu that he fell into his trap?
Whether it was the Eternal Life Realm’s Heavenly Dao helping him or not, bringing his understanding of spatial teleportation to such a profound level, Fang Zhifan didn’t dare leave the realm lightly.
Lan Xiaobu might not know his situation, but Fang Zhifan was painfully aware. The moment he left the Eternal Life Realm and lost this heightened insight into spatial teleportation, he’d be a lamb to the slaughter for Lan Xiaobu.
Right now, Fang Zhifan could only hope that Lan Xiaobu would grow impatient after chasing him for a while and give up on his own. Once so proud, Fang Zhifan now wished only to be seen as an insignificant ant in Lan Xiaobu’s eyes.
Unfortunately, Lan Xiaobu was dead-set on killing him. No matter where Fang Zhifan fled, Lan Xiaobu stayed hot on his heels, never letting him out of sight.
A year later, even Lan Xiaobu was feeling the strain. Constant teleportation in pursuit was exhausting. Using the Reincarnation Pot wouldn’t work—it’d lose Fang Zhifan eventually. But without it, the drain on his divine energy was immense.
Fang Zhifan had now plunged into the Eternal Life Sea. After merging with the Eternal Life Realm, no one had ever crossed this sea. To this day, no one knew how vast it was or whether it was still expanding.
Whether the Eternal Life Sea had stopped growing due to the realm’s rules no longer perfecting themselves or not, its boundless expanse was universally acknowledged.
Lan Xiaobu figured Fang Zhifan planned to cross the sea to find a chance to shake him off. But he wouldn’t give him that opportunity. He refused to believe that, with his own cultivation rising and Fang Zhifan weakening by the moment, he’d still let him escape.
Another year passed, the two locked in a chase across the Eternal Life Sea. To Lan Xiaobu’s surprise, he sensed Fang Zhifan had stopped fleeing. His aura lingered in one spot, no longer moving forward. Had he given up, realising escape was futile?
Lan Xiaobu decisively summoned the Reincarnation Pot. After two years of relentless teleportation, he was worn out. Now that he’d finally cornered Fang Zhifan into staying put, it was time to rest in the pot for a bit.
Two days later, Lan Xiaobu halted the Reincarnation Pot, staring in stunned silence at the sight before him.
A massive Sacred Dao City loomed ahead—no, not just a city. It was more like a colossal island. At its centre stood a golden Sacred Dao City. Even without entering, he could sense the clear spatial rules and dense heaven-and-earth vitality within. This was a true Sacred Dao sanctuary.
Who’d have thought such a place existed in the Eternal Life Sea? He didn’t know whose sanctuary it was, but since Fang Zhifan had stopped here, he must’ve calculated that Lan Xiaobu couldn’t touch him. Regardless of whose domain this was, Lan Xiaobu was determined to kill Fang Zhifan.
Stowing the Reincarnation Pot, he stepped onto the island’s edge.
The perimeter was guarded by top-tier Level 9 defensive and killing divine arrays. Lan Xiaobu probed them with his divine sense—arrays he couldn’t possibly set up himself. Not now, and maybe not even when he first advanced to a Level 9 Divine Array Emperor. Such formidable arrays protected the island, yet the golden Sacred Dao City remained visible, suggesting its master deliberately wanted to draw people in.
Standing outside the protective array, Lan Xiaobu noticed a void indentation—a handprint-shaped slot.
As an Eighth-Grade Divine Array Master, he couldn’t construct this array, but he understood the slot’s purpose.
It was a cultivation restriction for entry. Place your hand in the slot, and if your cultivation met the requirement, you’d get in. If not, you’d be locked out.
While letting his Cosmic Dimension Model analyse the array’s structure, Lan Xiaobu pressed his hand into the slot.
Fang Zhifan had only just fled here, so he couldn’t have any deep ties to this island. Two years of teleportation had brought him this far—a distance greater than two years of flight in the Reincarnation Pot. For a typical high-grade flying divine artifact, that could mean hundreds or even thousands of years. This golden Sacred Dao City was unimaginably distant from the mainland he’d come from.
As soon as his hand touched the slot, a wave of law-based aura washed over him. The slot flashed several times, then the array parted, revealing a passageway.
Lan Xiaobu stepped through, inwardly shocked. This island required at least Quasi-Saint cultivation to enter. That meant, from this point on, the weakest person he’d encounter here would be a Quasi-Saint.
Once inside, three large, dao-patterned characters appeared in his divine sense: Saint Island.
His first thought: What a bold name. But then he realised it was fitting. The minimum entry requirement was Quasi-Saint, so calling it Saint Island wasn’t unreasonable. Quasi-Saints weren’t true Saints, but they still carried the “Saint” label.
He recalled once visiting an Immortal Emperor Village, a place entirely populated by Immortal Emperors. Was this another such place?
Extending his divine sense, he saw a jade-stone avenue ten zhang wide beneath his feet. Beyond it lay a vast plaza, and at the plaza’s end stood the golden Sacred Dao City.
Outside the city were over a hundred cultivators, all Quasi-Saints or above. Though he didn’t probe each one, Lan Xiaobu could tell their cultivation started at Quasi-Saint level.
Farther out, vast fields of divine spiritual herbs stretched into the distance. Seventh-grade herbs were common here, and there were even dao fruits.
Lan Xiaobu sucked in a breath. Was this for real? He considered himself wealthy, but he’d never dare plant such top-tier divine herbs and dao fruits casually outside the Eternal Life Sacred Dao City or the Great Desolate Sacred Dao City.
Still reeling, his divine sense suddenly picked up a familiar figure—no, two familiar figures.
Without hesitation, he strode to the edge of the golden Sacred Dao City and called out loudly, “Haha, Friend He Ku, long time no see!”
Then he turned to a skinny man nearby, “Oh, right, what’s your name again? I’ve forgotten.”
He’d met He Ku Saint in the Great Radial Gobi Valley and had even considered recruiting him. But after the Kun Chen Sacred Court was established, He Ku had shamelessly defected to them. A man with no integrity or gratitude.
Back then, He Ku was a False Saint. Years later, he hadn’t improved much—still a False Saint. The other guy was someone Lan Xiaobu had seen in Sky Street, a forgettable passerby whose name he hadn’t bothered to remember. He Ku, though, might’ve come from Sky Street too…
“You?” The skinny man’s face twitched at the sight of Lan Xiaobu. Without another word, he turned and slipped into the golden Sacred Dao City.
Back in Sky Street, Lan Xiaobu had been a tyrant. Though restrictions had kept them from teaching him a lesson, he’d left a bad impression. Best not to provoke someone like that if it could be avoided.
“Heh, so it’s Friend Lan. Indeed, it’s been a while,” He Ku replied with a forced smile.
He knew Lan Xiaobu didn’t like him, but since Lan Xiaobu had once saved his life, he couldn’t just brush him off. Sometimes, when no major interests were at stake, he didn’t mind keeping a shred of dignity.
If not for wanting to ask about the golden Sacred Dao City and Saint Island, Lan Xiaobu wouldn’t have bothered with him.
“Friend He Ku, didn’t you go serve the Kun Chen Sacred Court? How’d you end up here?” Lan Xiaobu chuckled.
He wondered if the Kun Chen Sacred Court had been wiped out. Otherwise, why would He Ku be here? Having been in seclusion, he wasn’t sure of its fate.
He Ku said flatly, “Is Dao Lord Lan mocking me? Don’t you know the Kun Chen Sacred Court was shattered by the Curse Saint?”
It really had been destroyed? Lan Xiaobu paused, then said, “Friend He Ku, didn’t the Curse Saint come in here two days ago? Why didn’t you take him on—get some revenge?”
He Ku’s face darkened. He thought, I’m just a False Saint, and you want me to go after the Curse Saint Fang Zhifan? Are you mocking me, or do you think I’m tired of living?
