180: The Seventh Level, the Polar Ice Bear
The Polar Ice Bear's roar of pain was cut short as its massive body crashed against the far wall of the trial arena, dissolving into a shower of azure crystalline light before it could even slump to the ground. The violent cold wind whipped through Yao Xuan's hair, the residual ice energy prickling against his scales before being utterly subsumed by the Ancestral Dragon's inherent vitality.
He landed softly, the golden scales along his arms receding. A faint mist of steam rose from his skin where the extreme cold met his draconic body heat. His breath plumed white for a moment before steadying.
'A clean break. Its force was considerable, but without agility or tactical variation, it was just a blunt instrument. My suppression field crippled its ice-energy control by at least thirty percent.' His analysis was clinical, a habit drilled into him by Di Tian. Yet, beneath the analysis, a different thread of thought wove itself: 'She is watching. Did she note the efficiency? Or does she see the boy from Aolai City, fighting with everything he has?'
The azure restorative light descended, washing over him. It soothed the minor chill that had seeped into his joints and replenished the sliver of soul power he had expended. It felt cooler than before, carrying a trace of the ice-attribute energy he had just overcome, his body adapting.
The reward was more substantial now. The Tower was acknowledging the leap in difficulty.
As the light faded, the arena morphed. The icy, stone environment melted away, reforming into the familiar, neutral hall of the tower's internal junction. A new portal swirled into being ahead of him. This one was a deep, burning crimson, laced with veins of gold. The air around it vibrated with palpable heat and a denser, more aggressive spiritual pressure.
The Eighth Level.
The threshold where the opposing soul beast would rival a 57th-ranked Soul King.
In the observation room, Leng Yaozhu let out a long, slow breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The data streams on her screen were a symphony of absurdity. "He dismantled a four-thousand-year Polar Ice Bear… a creature known for its brutal strength and defensive ice armor… by shattering its primary weapon and overpowering it in a direct contest of force." She shook her head, a wry smile touching her lips. "Instinctual sovereignty, indeed. He doesn't just fight it; he dominates its very element."
Her gaze shifted to Gu Yue. The girl's face was still a calm mask, but her eyes were luminous, reflecting the crimson and gold of the new portal on the screen. There was a fierce pride in that gaze, a possessiveness that went beyond mere observation.
"He's going for the eighth," Leng Yaozhu stated.
"He is," Gu Yue confirmed, her voice soft but certain. "The fire-gate. It will be a creature of flame and rage. It will try to match his Yang energy with its own." A pause, then a whisper so low it was almost for herself, carrying the weight of both her identities: "But his fire is older. It is the fire of creation, not destruction."
Leng Yaozhu heard it. The specificity of the insight gave her pause. 'How does she know…?' The mysteries around her prized disciple and this unbelievable boy seemed to multiply. She chose not to pry, instead focusing on the unfolding spectacle. "The strain will be real now. Even with his bloodline, the gap in raw soul power is significant."
Back in the tower, Yao Xuan stared at the crimson gateway. His body hummed with energy, but his mind was preternaturally calm. He recalled the pure, unwavering trust in Na'er's eyes back in Aolai City, a trust that had anchored him. He recalled the complex, calculating yet increasingly warm violet eyes of Gu Yue, which challenged him to be more, to understand more.
For them—for the singular soul that encompassed both—he would step into the fire.
He approached the portal. The heat radiating from it was tangible, pushing against the lingering coolness in his body. He did not hurry. With each step, he centered himself, drawing the Ancestral Dragon's power not as a raging inferno, but as a deep, steady, unquenchable flame at his core.
He crossed the threshold.
The world erupted into fire and basalt. He stood on a platform of black, volcanic rock in a sea of churning magma. The air shimmered with heat haze, and the very oxygen felt scarce. Across the platform, coalescing from the molten rock itself, rose a being of living lava and obsidian—a Magma Titan, its form shedding globs of molten stone, its eyes pits of white-hot fury. The aura it emitted was oppressive, a physical weight of heat and ancient, earthen malice.
< Trial Eighth Stage: Fortitude of the Caldera. Begin.>
The Magma Titan did not roar. It slammed a fist the size of Yao Xuan's torso into the platform, and a wave of crystallized fire and shattered rock erupted in a line towards him.
Yao Xuan's golden eyes narrowed. This was no mere beast. This was an embodiment of elemental fury.
'Let's see if your fire can burn the Ancestral Dragon's legacy.'
He didn't retreat. He charged forward, meeting the cataclysm head-on, a streak of gold against a canvas of hellish red.