“The higher you go, the colder it gets.”
Zhao Batian gazed up at the nine-thousandth step, now tantalizingly close, and sighed with profound emotion. Without Han Lie and Xiao Yuruo breathing down his neck, he felt a strange, hollow sense of unaccustomed solitude.
“You two are barely worthy of being my opponents now,” he muttered to the wind, his voice thick with self-satisfaction. “In the near future, my world will have no room for the likes of you.”
In terms of raw combat power, Han Lie and Xiao Yuruo could indeed trade blows with him for three hundred rounds. But this trial—the Stairway to Heaven—was a test of potential and will. His lead proved that his destiny far outstripped theirs.
The shadow of his defeat in the Sacred Sun Mountain Range evaporated, replaced by a swelling tide of arrogance.
“The nine-thousandth step? That is merely my starting point.”
Zhao Batian’s face hardened with ambition. He did not seek the plateau; he sought the summit.
Heart surging with renewed purpose, he prepared to take the next step.
Whoosh!
A violent gale suddenly screamed past his ear.
Zhao Batian froze. He watched, eyes widening in disbelief, as a figure surged past him as if walking on flat ground. It was Han Lie. He was carrying Bai Ling on his back and dragging Xiao Yuruo by the hand, yet he moved with the unstoppable momentum of a landslide.
“???”
Question marks seemed to materialize physically above Zhao Batian’s head.
Was he hallucinating? This was the approach to the nine-thousandth tier! The spiritual pressure here was terrifying, enough to crush steel. Even he was struggling to lift his feet. How could Han Lie be sprinting while carrying two people?
Before Zhao Batian’s brain could process the impossibility, Han Lie had already crossed the distance, stopping precisely on the 8,999th step.
Han Lie paused. He turned his head slowly, looking down at the Holy Son with a smile that was devastatingly harmless.
“Holy Son Zhao… should we wait for you?”
“?”
The sentence carried no killing intent, yet it struck Zhao Batian with the force of a war hammer. His Dao Heart cracked.
If his mental fortitude hadn’t been exceptional, he would have vomited a mouthful of blood right there. As it was, his face went through a kaleidoscope of colors—red, purple, then a sickly green. He opened his mouth to retort, but the words died in his throat.
Thinking back to his earlier monologue, the arrogance he had just spewed into the void, Zhao Batian felt a shame so burning he wanted to claw a hole in the white jade stairs and bury himself alive.
It was humiliating. Utterly, devastatingly humiliating.
“Hahahaha!”
Han Lie laughed, a bright, booming sound that echoed across the heavens. Ignoring the petrified Holy Son, he tightened his grip on Xiao Yuruo’s hand and stepped up.
Boom.
The moment they crossed the threshold of the nine-thousandth step, the pressure multiplied exponentially. Han Lie’s knees buckled slightly, his spine bending under the invisible mountain.
He exhaled sharply and lowered Bai Ling to the ground. Only then did his breathing ease.
“Alright, Brother Lie,” Bai Ling whispered, her eyes shining with tears. She forced a gentle smile. “Thank you for bringing me here. Go. I believe you can reach the summit.”
Xiao Zi hopped out of his robes, transforming back into her small feline form. “Okay, Brother Lie! I won’t increase the difficulty for you anymore, meow!”
Han Lie nodded, straightening his robes. He turned to the woman beside him. “And you, Fairy Yuruo? Will you continue?”
“Yes.”
Xiao Yuruo’s legs were trembling just standing there, but her eyes were clear. “I likely cannot reach the summit. But I want to try. I need to know where my limit lies.”
“Then let us go together.”
After a brief adjustment, Han Lie took Xiao Yuruo’s hand once more. They turned their backs on the plateau and began the final, brutal ascent.
Two hours later.
Zhao Batian finally dragged his exhausted body onto the nine-thousandth step.
He collapsed, gasping for air, his lungs burning. When he finally looked up, his gaze fell upon Bai Ling and Xiao Zi resting nearby.
Instantly, a surge of irrational, helpless rage flooded his system.
“Sister Bai Ling,” Zhao Batian hissed, his voice dripping with venom. “Are you even worthy of dirtying the nine-thousandth step? If you know what’s good for you, roll down immediately. Do not force me to act.”
In his eyes, Bai Ling—a girl with a mere quasi-ninth-grade spiritual vein—was an ant. She hadn’t climbed here; she had been carried like luggage. Seeing her stand on the same level as him was an insult to his genius.
“I am not afraid of you!”
Bai Ling struggled to her feet, her gaze sharp and defiant. “Brother Lie said I might drag him back, but I must never be spineless! I will not dishonor his effort!”
“Meow—!” Xiao Zi bristled, expanding into her Spinosaurus form, black flames licking at her fur as she hissed at the Holy Son.
“Spineless? Why does that word sound so laughable coming from you?”
Zhao Batian stood up, cracking his neck. “I gave you a chance, Sister Bai Ling. Since you refuse to accept your place, don’t blame me for disregarding our sect fellowship!”
Although the stairs suppressed his power to a fraction of its peak, Zhao Batian’s base cultivation was far higher than Bai Ling’s. In a contest of suppressed strength, he was still a predator, and she was prey.
Bang!
Zhao Batian struck. His palm shattered Bai Ling’s hasty defense effortlessly, slamming into her chest.
“Pfft!”
Bai Ling flew backward, blood spraying from her lips to stain her robes and the pristine jade beneath her.
“Sister Bai Ling, why are you still such trash?” Zhao Batian sneered, walking toward her. “Oh… I remember. If not for that old bastard Han Lie, you wouldn’t even have the qualification to enter these ruins, let alone stand here.”
He looked down at her, his eyes cold and cruel. “Relying on a man to carry you… do you really think you are something special?”
“You…!” Bai Ling gasped, clutching her chest. “Zhao Batian, you go too far! I will fight you!”
Her eyes turned red with fury. She channeled her remaining qi, desperate to defend her dignity.
But in Zhao Batian’s eyes, her struggle was pathetic. He waved his hand dismissively, slapping aside her weak attack before backhanding her across the face.
Smack!
Bai Ling collapsed again, coughing blood.
“Lies don’t hurt, but the truth is the sharpest blade,” Zhao Batian mocked, towering over her. “Look at you. Look at this helpless rage. Did I touch a nerve? Hehe…”
He leaned down, his voice a whisper of contempt. “In this life, you are only fit to be a burden. A quasi-ninth-grade talent? What a complete mess.”
Bai Ling felt her dignity being ground into the dust. She trembled violently, tears of humiliation mixing with the blood on her face. She tried to breathe, to summon a retort, but her chest seized, and she nearly vomited blood again.
“Meow—!”
Xiao Zi could take no more. With a furious roar, she lunged, intending to incinerate the bully.
However, before her black flames could fully ignite, the crushing pressure of the stairs slammed down on her. The mysterious power of the trial suppressed her energy, pinning the beast to the floor.
“Hmph. Where did this little beast come from?” Zhao Batian raised a hand, gathering a lethal concentration of qi. “Today, I’ll dispose of you both!”
Xiao Zi’s eyes widened in terror. She realized she couldn’t move.
“Brother Lie!” she screamed, her voice piercing the high altitude air. “Save me, meow!”
Support the Creator
If you enjoy this chapter, consider supporting us with Spirit Stones.
👑 The story continues!
Subscribe to our membership to instantly unlock all premium chapters right here on the site. Enjoy uninterrupted reading!
Become a VIP Member