The Heavenly Emperor Returns

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Heaven and earth slowly returned to clarity.

The great white jade Qiongtian hand vanished, retreating at a speed faster than before, returning to the end of the heavens and the world.

Countless beings looked up, faintly glimpsing an incomparably massive figure standing at the edge of all existence, its body radiating immortal brilliance. Its face was blurred, clad in a phantom-like black bird emperor robe.

But in the blink of an eye, that phantom dispersed into nothingness.

All became calm again.

The Ten Ancestors were reduced to dust, completely disintegrated, and even the Primordial Chaos—once strong enough to contain Dao Ancestor-level warfare—evaporated like a dried-up lakebed.

A cold wind blew across the void.

Countless creatures stood dumbfounded, mouths agape, staring at the now barren primordial chaotic space.

"Too... too terrifying."

"How powerful was that hand? How could it be so strong it wiped out the Ten Ancestors together? Just what kind of existence is the master of that great white jade hand?"

"The master of that hand must far surpass even the Ten Ancestors!"

Endless shock swept across all realms.

That one hand had surpassed imagination, subverting their understanding of power.

No one expected that the so-called invincible Ancestors would be annihilated by a single palm.

Chu Feng, who had been pulled away to the far reaches of the universe by the Pollen Empress, also stared at the ruined primordial chaos, his face blank with disbelief.

"This... this world still has such beings?" he muttered.

The Pollen Empress pondered solemnly and finally spoke with a grave tone.

"I suspect that such a being, like the owner of the bronze coffin from the Third Age, is not of this time and space, but from beyond."

"Beyond... the gods?" Chu Feng was stunned.

If it's truly beyond the divine, then it all makes sense.

"What do you think this great hand appeared for?" Chu Feng asked again.

"I don't know. Who can fathom the will of such a supreme existence?" the Pollen Empress shook her head slowly.

Chu Feng was silent for a long moment before he smiled.

"Forget it. No matter what the reason, the true imprints of Emperor Huang and Emperor Ye have been preserved. As long as those true spirit imprints exist, they may yet return."

At the same time.

Elsewhere, surviving strange creatures witnessed the retreat of the Qiongtian white jade hand. The weight on their hearts lifted, and they gasped with relief, as if they had escaped death itself.

That hand was too terrifying, like the hand of destruction, capable of wiping out the three thousand worlds in a single sweep.

The pressure it radiated was enough to shatter the will to live.

"Go! Back to the plateau!" ordered a Lu Jin-level Strange Immortal Emperor.

Sweeping his gaze over the surroundings, he immediately led the surviving strange creatures in retreat, fleeing swiftly to the Etu Plateau.

Back on the Etu Plateau, within the ancestral land.

Sssss...

Countless strands of red primordial matter twisted and pulsed in the void.

Suddenly—

Puff!

The red primordial matter surged outward, forming the figure of a strange ancestor with red hair and black blood seeping from his skin.

In the same fashion, one by one, ten strange ancestors reconstituted themselves and emerged from the void, returning to the ancestral land.

"That hand..."

Their expressions were dark and grim as they exchanged glances.

In the deepest part of the ancestral land, the ancient and mysterious bronze coffin of the Third Age began to tremble faintly. Its surface was covered in arcane, cryptic runes.

Creak...

A thin screeching echoed.

The lid of the bronze coffin slowly shifted, opening just a crack.

A pair of turbid white eyes, veined with writhing red silk threads, suddenly snapped open.

No words could describe those eyes—the countless red threads, like parasitic worms, writhed in the whites, saturating them.

Inside those pupils were boundless years, ancient decay, and the withering breath of endless time.

Those eyes turned slightly, gazing toward the space where the great hand had disappeared.

There was no emotion, no trace of sentience or humanity—only the void of unfathomable depth.

No one knew how long passed.

The lid of the bronze coffin slowly slid shut again, and those dreadful eyes returned to eternal slumber.

Even the Ten Ancestors were unaware that this had occurred.

Shen Lian had withdrawn.

Yet that single palm etched an immortal legend in the Divine Ruins Era, across the Three Thousand Great Territories.

With just one appearance, countless beings began to revere Shen Lian as the Palm Emperor.

To honor that palm, countless lives built temples, sculpting statues of the great white jade Qiongtian hand and enshrining it alongside the statues of Emperor Huang and Emperor Ye.

Huangdi, Yedi, and Zhangdi—the Three Emperors—stood equal in name, revered and worshipped throughout all realms.

Meanwhile—

In the Great Luo Divine Mountain.

Seated on the throne of the Black Bird, Shen Lian suddenly opened his eyes, divine light bursting forth like a thousand suns.

"Your Majesty Liandi, are you alright?"

Xuan Ba, Yuan Ye, and others quickly gathered around, filled with concern.

"I'm fine," Shen Lian replied calmly, lowering his gaze to his right hand.

A shocking wound had appeared on its back.

Three inches long, vicious and torn, the wound bled unnaturally. Tiny red nematode-like threads gnawed into the flesh, preventing his transcendental body from healing fully.

"A detached existence, hiding deep in the plateau..." Shen Lian sneered coldly.

He gently brushed his left hand over the wound.

In an instant, it healed completely as if it had never existed.

Naturally, this wound was not caused by the Ten Ancestors.

Within their combined attack, a sinister strike had been hidden.

It came from the Third Age bronze coffin, from deep within the Etu ancestral land.

The master of that coffin had never truly died.

He remained alive and conscious, hidden in the shadows, coldly watching the long river of time and the decay of all existence.

He never died. He was awake the entire time.

Ironically, the Ten Ancestors had staged the great blood ritual to resurrect the coffin's master, aiming to seize his strange powers.

But little did they know—they were nothing more than tools. They were mere laborers, working unknowingly to nourish the being in the bronze coffin.

"That world... still holds too many secrets."

Shen Lian shook his head and ceased pondering.

Though the coffin's master still lived, he was clearly gravely wounded. Otherwise, he would not have relied on the Ten Ancestors to unleash this wave of chaos and devour the worlds.

Barring surprises, it would take hundreds of millions of years for that being to truly recover and return to his peak.

There was no need to worry.

At once, Shen Lian turned his gaze to his palm.

Within it danced countless immortal lights, like a sky full of fireflies.

That immortal radiance was the soul essence of Emperor Huang, Emperor Ye, and the others.

Shen Lian had brought them back from death into the living world.

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