Chapter 1660: Sages All Buried Beneath the Ruins

In a brilliant shower of light, the young man led the frail little girl away. Their figures vanished, and from that day on, no one ever saw them again.

Throughout all realms, all extraordinary phenomena dissipated.

The Great Thousand Universe seemed to plunge into darkness. Countless hearts felt heavy, and eyes welled with tears, yet people remained silent.

The entire world lost its brilliance, becoming lifeless and somber. The last glimmer of hope in people's hearts was swallowed by the abyss, leaving them utterly oppressed.

On this day, Huang and Ye fell in battle.

On this day, the Empress, who sacrificed herself in desperation, also finally transformed into light and departed.

On this day, Wushi, Luo, the Dark Immortal Emperor, and others all perished.

After the battle, there were no Emperors left in the human world!

“It’s finally over,” an Ancestor declared, exhausted and mentally drained. He let out a long sigh, feeling a sense of relief.

They had believed they could foresee the future, sweep away all their opponents, powerfully rewrite history, and that this day would be a glorious end.

However, the process had been so perilous that even now, recalling it sent shivers down their spines and left them with lingering fear; they wished never to remember it again.

Ten Ancestors had emerged together, yet ultimately, six of them had still died? It was like a dreadful fate, consistent with the number of Ancestors who perished in their dreams—it had not changed!

Had they rewritten history? When this question arose, the four surviving Ancestors felt a chill in their hearts, a creeping sensation of dread.

“We changed fate,” an Ancestor stated firmly. “Ultimately, we are the ones who survived; Huang and Ye are dead.”

Another Ancestor said in a deep voice that no matter what, victory belonged to them. With one battle, they had swept away all enemies across the realms, and the unsettling feeling of apprehension was gone.

Their dreams had become reality; everything was over. All opponents who could endanger the plateau had been eliminated.

The process had been extremely perilous; even the four of them had nearly died, their origins repeatedly shattered. Had they not evolved over countless eons and possessed profound foundations, they would have been in grave danger today.

Huang, looking down upon his opponents, had calmly told them that he would take the three Ancestors he had confronted.

Ye, with a faint smile, had exuded an extremely dangerous aura even in death, as if he had outsmarted the Ancestors, making them uneasy even after his demise.

The Empress, born of brilliance and departing as light in death, had scorned them, disdaining to show her true face, and had slain an Ancestor immediately upon entering the Sacrificial Dao realm.

After this battle, the few Ancestors were utterly ravaged, both in body and mind. They never wished to look back or encounter such enemies again.

“Finally, all rebellious seeds have been extinguished,” an Ancestor declared. “From now on… there are no Emperors in this world!” They could now rest and recover their origins with peace of mind.

For the beings of the Great Thousand Universe, this day was one of immense pain and despair. The world and their hearts turned bleak; it was a true era of fallen Emperors, a calamity unlike any before, as all Emperors had perished.

The Fall of Emperors, the Anguish of Humanity!

***

A biting wind swept across the barren land, wailing mournfully as if someone were sobbing in sorrow, creating an overwhelming sense of desolation.

Chu Feng fell from mid-air, landing on the frozen ground. He coughed incessantly, his mouth filled with bloody foam.

Blood streamed from his eyes. He knelt on one knee, suppressing a low growl, in agony to the point of madness. He wished he could tear open the sky, bore through the Cursed Land, slay every Ancestor, and slaughter all the strange beings!

But he couldn't; he lacked such power. He was merely a young evolver, a latecomer.

He could do nothing, powerless to avenge his wife and child, powerless to rewrite destiny. He felt suffocated, driven to insanity.

“Roar…” He roared like a beast, despairing and desolate, his heart writhing in pain. His vision was consumed by an endless crimson.

He collapsed with a thud, rolling onto his back. His chest heaved violently as he gasped for air, constantly coughing up blood.

As a father, he had watched helplessly as his child died before him, impaled by eight cold spears, lifted into the air, bleeding profusely. That crimson blood… it was so tragically vivid, so blindingly striking!

Their first meeting, when the child weakly called him father… also became their last meeting, their last reunion. Father and son were parted forever.

Watching his child's body disintegrate, their eyes dimming, losing all light, Chu Feng's heart was torn apart, pulverized, and driven to madness in that moment.

He could not forgive himself. Even if his power was inferior to the Dao Ancestors wielding Emperor artifacts, he should have appeared immediately and died before his child. He could not accept this reality.

He was still alive, yet his child's body had disintegrated before him, blood splattering everywhere. He desperately reached out to embrace, but could hold onto nothing!

And before Zhou Xi died, she stumbled, running frantically towards her child, only for blood to spurt in a flash of a brilliant blade… a sight that pained Chu Feng's eyes and pierced his heart.

Ying Xiaoxiao was also cut down by such a blade. On her pale face were pain and longing, and until her death, she kept looking at him, her gaze so desolate and helpless.

Yao Yao, with unmatched talent, should have had a brilliant future. Yet, in this catastrophe, she was impaled by a battle spear thrown from beyond the heavens by a higher-level strange being, pinned to the bleeding earth—a tragic and sorrowful sight.

Furthermore, there were Huang Niu, Ouyang Dalong, Old Gu, Dong Dahu, Da Hei Niu, Lu Bohu, Ying Wudi, Zihuan, Qin Luoyin, Ying Zhexian, Dongqing, the Temple Fairy…

So many people, pitiable and tragic, disintegrated under Emperor artifacts. They couldn't even let out a final cry of defiance. Familiar and beloved faces flashed continuously in Chu Feng's mind; everything from the past felt as if it had happened just yesterday.

Everyone, familiar and unfamiliar alike, was dead!

Chu Feng’s era was severed, its future cut off. Everyone was consumed by blood and fire, reduced to ashes, as if they had never existed in this world.

An entire generation… simply vanished, everything turning into a lament.

Chu Feng lay motionless on the frozen ground, like a corpse. His eyes were empty, lifeless, completely gray and dead.

One day, two days… heavy snow began to fall from the sky, burying him. He was like a lonely wanderer who had died in the wilderness, with no home to return to.

His heart had died, and the cold, frozen earth bore his stiff, cold body.

***

Although many days had passed since the final battle, its impact and turmoil were far from settled. Across all realms, there were no Emperors, and all Dao Ancestors had perished. The world was vast and desolate, filled with anguish and wounds everywhere.

Even so, the beings of the Cursed Land did not cease their actions. The three surviving Path-Ending level beings emerged, raised their arms, and coldly and ruthlessly swept them across the world.

On that day, even the Immortal Kings who were still in the world, and the surviving elder evolvers, disintegrated as if struck by a blade!

In this bleeding era, the Immortal Emperors’ hands swept through the void, representing a 'Heaven's Will Blade' that targeted all surviving Immortal Kings of the Great Thousand World. No one could resist; everyone's origins were shattered, rapidly dissolving into the Dao, disintegrating, and dying tragically.

Immortal Emperors could create heavens and earths with a single thought, and tear apart various great worlds in the blink of an eye. Their every action represented destiny.

Especially in an era where there were no Emperors across the realms, the three Immortal Emperors from the Cursed Land swept their hands through heaven and earth with absolutely no resistance; no one could oppose them!

Their targeting of Immortal Kings was like a vast net of destiny descending. No matter how unparalleled one's talent or astonishing one's Dao fruit, they still couldn't break free; all Kings perished.

Even some beings at the True Immortal level were affected and died tragically on that day.

It was a targeted slaughter; when the great net fell, the more powerful the fish, the harder it was to escape, and they were all caught in one sweep.

This was the anguish of humanity, the pain of evolvers, and the most tragic and darkest era across all realms.

An old man stumbled, fell, and rose again, crying out in desolation and pain, murmuring to himself.

“Oh, how I wish Huang were still a mischievous child; how I wish Ye were still playing tricks on people; how I wish the Empress were still just little Nannann. If everything were still in the past, there would be no blood, no tears, no wounds, no anguish. They would all still be alive, glorious, brilliant, and happy!”

“If only time could stand still, if time could flow backward, if the great era were still magnificent, those people would never wither, still remaining in the human world!”

But there were no 'ifs'.

Even if time could flow backward, what difference would it make?

Immortal Emperors could reverse the flow of time, but they too had all perished.

As stars shifted and time passed, the human world grew old and weary. One vibrant face after another lost its smile; they became solemn, heavy-hearted, and sorrowful. Until finally, the entire era was buried, the magnificent world bathed in brilliant light turned to ashes. All old friends, all evolvers who dared to oppose the Cursed Land, withered away completely. Only ruins remained, burying saints and sages, leaving no trace thereafter.