Beiluo, Western Mountain Trial Tower.

  Ni Yu, Nie Shuang, and Jing Yue stared in stunned awe at Nie Changqing, who sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion.

  Above his head, the number glowed: “10”!

  He had breached the tenth layer of the trial tower.

  The trio exchanged glances, shock rippling through their eyes.

  Even Jing Yue—who had completed his Body Storage tempering and awakened his personal attribute sword intent—had only scraped through to the seventh layer.

  He had tested the eighth. Without stepping into Heavenly Lock, he stood no chance.

  The tenth? Beyond imagination.

  “Young Master did mention the challenges shift every ten layers,” Jing Yue said. “It piques the curiosity.”

  Lu Fan had explained it: the first through tenth layers spawned eerie entities that mirrored the challenger’s combat style, forcing them to confront flaws mid-battle and refine them.

  The tenth layer itself, however, remained veiled.

  Now Nie Changqing stood within it.

  No entities materialized. The moment he entered, reality warped.

  Fivefold spiritual pressure—Lu Fan’s signature weight—crushed down, locking every joint. A Heavenly Lock cultivator, immobilized by aura alone.

  Yet this might be the layer’s true purpose.

  Nie Changqing ignited power along his spine, forcing his torso upright against the invisible tide.

  He felt the tempering of his Three Poles spine accelerate.

  Surprise flickered across his face.

  Then the jungle thundered.

  Ten mountain-sized monstrosities erupted from the undergrowth, flattening trees, hurling clods of earth, quaking the ground.

  Nie Changqing hoisted Dragon Slayer beneath the pressure.

  He tried to weave aside.

  Too slow. The aura dragged his limbs like lead.

  No dodging ten charging behemoths.

  A guttural roar tore from his throat. Metallic blade intent flared; he slashed.

  One beast split in half. Nine more thundered on.

  No retreat. Another swing—blade qi of sharpened steel.

  Every cut had to kill. A single falter meant failure, meant being trampled into pulp.

  Pressure plus precision demanded flawless attribute control.

  Nie Changqing had unlocked the Second Pole, but his mastery was rough.

  Here, under duress, it honed to razor finesse.

  At last, the final beast fell. The pressure vanished.

  Sweat drenched him; his body sagged like wet clay.

  He refused to exit.

  Pale light coalesced into an ethereal staircase. He climbed to the eleventh layer.

  Eleventh: pressure surged to tenfold; beasts swelled to a hundred.

  He felled a handful before the stampede swallowed him, grinding him to dust.

  Trial tower interior.

  Nie Changqing’s eyes snapped open, chest heaving.

  The higher the layer, the crueler the grind.

  Tenfold pressure slowed motion to a crawl; still he needed killing strokes. The control demanded was brutal.

  Yet failure carried riches.

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  This tower run had vaulted his strength.

  Face Yang Kun—Fourth Turn Golden Core—again, and he would no longer scramble.

  Luck or not, victory lay within reach.

  Ni Yu, Nie Shuang, and the others crowded close, eyes bright with questions.

  Nie Changqing shared the tenth layer’s ordeal without reserve.

  Jing Yue’s face darkened. Fivefold pressure, ten beasts whose hides shrugged off anything less than a Body Storage peak strike—he’d be paste in seconds.

  Still, good news: no more monotonous self-mirroring doppelg?ngers.

  Those entities had felt like sparring your own shadow. Novel at first, stale soon after.

  “How long was I inside?” Nie Changqing asked.

  “Nearly five days.”

  Ni Yu popped a sugar-coated Qi Gathering Pill into her mouth.

  Five days…

  Nie Changqing raised a brow. Lost in the climb, he had forgotten time.

  He rose and left the tower.

  Nie Shuang, Ni Yu, and the rest trailed after.

  They reached Lake Heart Island.

  Lu Fan sat in his wheelchair, rolling leisurely around the island with Ning Zhao at his side.

  Her white gauze dress danced in the breeze.

  Her cultivation hovered at a bottleneck—one thread from Heavenly Lock. The closer the breakthrough, the calmer she grew.

  Ni Yu arrived hugging a massive bundle of herbs.

  “Young Master!”

  She hadn’t seen Lu Fan in ages, trapped in the tower.

  Lu Fan glanced over and nodded. The girl had advanced noticeably. Even compared to the lazy dragon on his shoulder, her diligence shone.

  Little Ying Dragon snorted, turned its head, and resumed splashing.

  “Little Ni, tempering Body Pills now?”

  With her current realm, she could manage it.

  Body Tempering Pills ranked higher than Qi Gathering; they required spirited herbs.

  “Yes, Young Master!”

  Her eyes sparkled with confidence—and a desire for variety. Qi pills daily had grown bland as water.

  Lu Fan dipped his chin. Ni Yu retreated with her sack, found a spot, set up her cauldron, and lit the fire.

  Nie Changqing approached last. Seeing Lu Fan stirred complicated feelings.

  They spoke at length. Mostly about the God-Slay Plan—Nie Changqing sensed peril.

  “Young Master, beware. It could be their trap. Better safe than sorry.”

  Lu Fan only smiled.

  After more talk, Nie Changqing took his leave. He needed the forbidden domain’s pressure.

  Ning Zhao’s long lashes trembled as she watched him go.

  Lu Fan eyed her. “Fancy a run at the forbidden domain too?”

  She nodded.

  “Wait until you break into Heavenly Lock. Right now, breakthrough is priority.”

  She understood. Lu Fan never caged them; strength was freedom.

  “What you lack is heart-insight. Heavenly Lock remains risky for you. Condensing a Golden Core is safer.”

  “No, Young Master. This servant aims for Heavenly Lock.”

  Stubborn resolve. If cultivating, choose the mightiest path.

  Lu Fan nodded, saying no more.

  “Visit the book tower. Seek inspiration.”

  “The cultivation road is yours to walk. I can clear a rough trail, but it’s overgrown with weeds and thorns. Your task: trample the weeds, sever the thorns, carve your own way.”

  Ning Zhao pondered, then bowed. White skirts swirling, she leaped, toes skimming the lake, rippling outward, and glided toward the book tower.

  Lu Fan watched her vanish inside, then gazed at the unruffled lake, expression distant.

  He thought of Yi Yue, gone now.

  Her talent ensured a harder road than most.

  On the island, Ni Yu focused on her cauldron.

  Succeeding at Body Tempering Pills would clarify her spirit, perhaps spark a breakthrough.

  Gongsun Yu and Lu Changkong arrived together.

  Gongsun Yu had gleaned much from the book tower, scribbling designs for days. Today he emerged.

  “Young Master…”

  Short in stature, yet power coiled within.

  He offered a booklet.

  “Young Master, my latest concealed weapon manual—reforged from tower texts. See if these can be crafted.”

  Lu Fan accepted without demur.

  The cover read: World’s Concealed Weapons Codex.

  A glance piqued interest.

  “Storm Pear Blossom—ranked tenth?”

  Gongsun Yu’s life work, merely tenth. What topped it?

  “Phoenix Feather (speculative)—seventh. Ninety thousand poison needles. Detonation forms a flaming phoenix. Toxin rides spirit qi into the heart; the heart explodes.”

  Poison weaponry.

  “Toxin that flows with spirit qi?”

  “Extracted by City Lord Lu from Skyward Chrysanthemum.”

  “City Lord Lu hails from the Agrarian School—masters of flora.”

  Lu Fan blinked at Lu Changkong beside Gongsun Yu.

  His old man could distill poison from flowers?

  First he’d heard Skyward Chrysanthemum was toxic.

  No wonder the gardens overflowed with blooms.

  Agrarian heir.

  Lu Fan smiled.

  The ancient Hundred Schools still gleamed in this age of cultivators.

  He scanned further: Heaven Lotus, Bodhi Tear, Ledger of Life and Death—flights of fancy, yet feasible.

  Cultivation turned impossible into reality.

  If forged, Gongsun Yu might pioneer the Mechanism School’s weapon path.

  Lu Fan closed the codex.

  “Not bad.”

  Gongsun Yu flushed with excitement.

  Lu Fan was the artifact master he revered. Approval meant the world.

  “Feasible. Craft them, and they’ll shine. You may gain insight, leap in cultivation. This is your road.”

  Gongsun Yu clutched the codex and hurried off to begin.

  Half a lifetime on Storm Pear Blossom; the rest on the codex.

  Lu Changkong walked the lakeside with Lu Fan.

  Father and son spoke long.

  With the world stabilizing, Lu Changkong resumed herb lore.

  Spirit qi surge mutated flora—new properties, new potencies, new poisons.

  He would study, compile a flora codex.

  Lu Fan respected the choice.

  Lu Changkong clapped his son’s shoulder, eyes deep, said nothing, then boarded a lone boat and vanished into the mist.

  Lu Fan watched both men fade.

  Ni Yu refined pills.

  The book tower thrummed with eager learners.

  A gentle breeze tugged his robes.

  He laughed softly.

  A hundred cultivation styles, all vying.

  The cultivators’ Hundred Schools contention—perhaps near.

  …

  Nie Changqing stepped through the dragon gate into South County’s forbidden domain.

  Mo Tianyu followed, divination banner in hand. “How could the forbidden domain lack me?”

  “You’ll challenge Martial Emperor City disciples. You’ll need my counsel… my divinations never miss.”

  Nie Changqing said nothing but didn’t stop him.

  He had noticed the accuracy himself.

  They chatted as they ventured deeper.

  South Prefecture guards saluted—true daredevils, braving the unknown again.

  The air wall rippled.

  Both emerged inside the Bodhisattva Temple.

  Outside, snow still fell.

  Yet the instant they appeared—

  A terrifying aura erupted beyond the temple.

  Sun-like pressure surged, threatening to shatter the structure.

  Snow cascaded from the eaves.

  In black robes, Du Longyang approached step by step. Snow melted in his wake.

  Nie Changqing and Mo Tianyu felt crushing force; breath came hard.