Ancient Path to Heaven, eight hundred seventieth step.
The pressure here could no longer be described by the words "heavy." It was like countless invisible divine mountains, squeezing from all directions, not only acting on the physical body, but seeming to directly crush cultivators' souls and explode their spiritual power! The air was thick as mercury, every breath accompanied by lung-tearing pain. That permeating "Heart-Questioning Illusion Realm" had even evolved into bizarre scenes directly reaching the origin of the Dao-heart; the slightest carelessness meant eternal damnation.
Fewer than thirty people could persist to here. None were not the topmost group of geniuses in this assembly, seed contenders truly qualified to vie for the top ten or even top three.
However, even they had almost reached their limits.
Central Plains Ninth Prince's face was slightly pale, that brilliant purple dragon qi had already retracted into his body, only able to protect his immediate three feet. Every step he took left a deep footprint flashing with purple-gold light on the stone step beneath his feet, clearly using supreme imperial dragon qi to resist hard, with enormous consumption.
Ice Plain Holy Maiden's surrounding cold energy had almost condensed into actual ice armor, but the ice armor was covered with dense cracks, her breathing rapid, every exhale bringing out large patches of ice crystal fragments.
Ten Thousand Buddhas Sect Buddha Son sat cross-legged on the stone steps, his appearance solemn, Buddhist chanting unceasing from his mouth, above his head floated a relic, shedding soft Buddhist light to protect himself, clearly meditating, temporarily unable to move forward.
Even that Hidden Dragon List's top rank Ling Tianyu had stopped his steps, standing with hands behind his back on the stone steps, chaos aura surging around his body, seeming to comprehend this extreme pressure, looking for a breakthrough opportunity, brows tightly locked, no longer as relaxed as before.
Everyone was either meditating, resisting hard, or seeking sudden enlightenment before this final barrier, their speed slowed to the extreme.
Among these almost-stagnant top geniuses, only three still maintained a steady pace of advancement.
At the very front was Xuanji Holy Land's Mu Xue. She was still so cold and elegant, her moon-white Daoist robe rustling in the terrifying pressure, yet showing no sign of disarray. Her steps still carried that unique rhythm, as if this pressure enough to crush everything was just ordinary scenery on her cultivation path. Her Dao-heart and this ancient path's laws seemed to have produced a wonderful resonance, making the resistance she faced far less than others.
Closely following was Tang Xiaoqi. He did not have Mu Xue's gift of merging with the Dao; his advance was entirely the embodiment of his own hard power. The Green Lotus Origin circulated within him at unprecedented speed, releasing pure and peaceful purification power, resisting the pressure's erosion on the mind, while nourishing the physical body and spiritual power. The "Vajra Subduing Demons Divine Power" was pushed to the extreme, faint golden runes circulating beneath his skin, transforming that terrifying pressure into energy for tempering the physical body. His pace was still steady, though slow, carrying an unwavering determination, every step planted solidly, as if nothing could block his determination to reach the summit.
And about a dozen steps behind these two, there was another person, gnashing his teeth, face twisted, barely following.
It was Blazing Sun Sect's Yan Feng!
At this moment, Yan Feng had long lost his initial arrogant manner. The raging flames around him had dimmed considerably, like a candle in the wind, flickering uncertainly. His face was flushed red, veins bulging on his forehead and neck, sweat flowing like streams, soaking his luxurious robes. He panted heavily, every breath carrying scorching heat and hoarse noise, his internal organs clearly having suffered not-light oppression.
His steps were stumbling and heavy, every step seeming to use all his strength, his body trembling slightly, appearing he might kneel and collapse at any moment. He had to frequently stop, mobilize his nearly-depleted spiritual power, use Blazing Sun Sect's secret methods to forcibly stimulate potential, to barely climb one more step.
This overdrawn method clearly could not last, and had endless aftereffects.
However, what made Yan Feng feel most tormented and humiliated was not this ultimate physical pain, but the two figures ahead!
That Tang Xiaoqi from the Southeast Region barbarian lands! And that Xuanji Holy Land's Mu Xue who disdained him!
What right did they have?!
What right to be so at ease?! What right to keep pace as if strolling?!
He, Yan Feng, Blazing Sun Sect young master, Hidden Dragon List ninety-seventh ranked genius, bearing the sect's high hopes, cultivating the top cultivation method "Nine Sun Scorching Heaven Art," at this moment had to follow behind these two guys like a stray dog, barely keeping up, even about to lose pace!
Jealousy, resentment, unwillingness... all sorts of negative emotions gnawed at his heart like poisonous snakes, making his Dao-heart increasingly shaky under the dual impact of pressure and illusion.
He stared dead at the two almost-shoulder-to-shoulder figures ahead, especially Tang Xiaoqi's steady-as-a-mountain, seemingly never-knowing-fatigue pace, the venom in his eyes almost about to spray out as actual flames.
The humiliation at "Hundred Flavors Hall," the fear at the city gate, and the powerlessness of being left far behind at this moment... all of it turned into monstrous hatred for Tang Xiaoqi!
"Damn barbarian... you just wait for this young master... in the assembly, I will make you pay!" Yan Feng squeezed viciousous curses from between his teeth, forcibly suppressing a mouthful of sweetness surging up his throat, once again pushing the secret method, the dimmed flames around him suddenly flaring up, stumbling another step upward.
However, just this forced step made his already tight mind show a fine flaw.
Instantly, the surrounding illusion power suddenly increased! He seemed to see himself stepped on by Tang Xiaoqi, wantonly humiliated; saw the disappointed eyes of sect elders toward him; saw the mocking faces of other geniuses...
"No!" Yan Feng let out a low roar, his eyes instantly becoming somewhat chaotic, his surrounding spiritual power violently fluctuating for a moment, almost losing control and falling from the stone steps! He quickly guarded his mind, spending huge effort to barely suppress the illusion, but his face was already pale as paper, his aura even more withered.
He looked up to see Tang Xiaoqi and Mu Xue had already climbed several more steps, the distance from him further widening.
Those figures keeping pace, in Yan Feng's eyes at this moment, were so piercing, so hard for him to accept.
He could only, filled with jealousy and unwillingness, like a stumbling old man, with difficulty barely following behind, watching helplessly as those two figures gradually approached that summit symbolizing glory and qualification.
This powerlessness, more than physical pain, made him suffer even more.