Ultimate Suppression

Eight thousand eight hundred steps, eight thousand nine hundred...

He caught up with Mo Xingyun and the Frostmoon Fairy, whose pace had slowed considerably after suffering setbacks, then surged past them under their astonished gazes.

He could sense the terrifying ripples of Dao resonance left behind by Chu Daolin and the others as they climbed higher.

None of this caused him the slightest hesitation.

At last, he stood on the eight thousand nine hundred and ninety-ninth step.

Ahead of him, Chu Daolin and the other three had already finished meditating and were climbing upward one step at a time.

Farther above, the figures of Xiao Ruobai and the other four were on the verge of disappearing from sight.

Wang Zhan drew a deep breath, suppressing his roiling blood and qi. An unprecedented brilliance burst from his eyes.

He did not immediately charge forward. Instead, he closed his eyes and completely fused together the momentum, battle intent, insights into the Dao, and the source power of his Heavenly Azure Saint Physique that he had accumulated throughout the climb!

The next moment, he opened his eyes and let out a long howl that shook the heavens!

“My Dao moves ever forward! I shall tread upon the Heavenly Gate!”

His entire body transformed into a meteor wreathed in azure-green Dao fire and dazzling golden light, carrying an supreme will that could crush all Daos and carve open a path where none existed before.

He charged toward the final barrier!

Before long, a radiance of rosy light blossomed.

Wang Zhan’s slightly staggering figure defiantly stepped onto the nine-thousandth-step platform!

His blood and qi still churned around him, while the azure-green radiance of sainthood flickered unsteadily. A thread of saintly blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

That final burst of speed had forced him to withstand the suppression of the Heavenly Stairway’s Dao laws, consuming an enormous amount of energy.

But he stood firm.

Higher up the Heavenly Stairway, around the nine-thousand-two-hundredth step, Chu Daolin, Qin Wuye, and the others were struggling forward.

Sensing the emergence of a new presence below them, they turned around almost simultaneously.

Their gazes fell upon Wang Zhan, who had just steadied himself.

Chu Daolin’s black robes fluttered slightly, and a trace of surprise flashed through his cold eyes.

He did not know Wang Zhan, but he could sense the austere, solid aura surrounding him—an aura carrying the unyielding will of one tempered by countless battles. It gave Chu Daolin an intense sense of danger.

“Another fierce one has arrived.”

Chu Daolin memorized Wang Zhan’s face. In this life, the stars truly shone brilliantly.

The God-King Physique’s gaze was as tangible as the edge of a sword, pinning Wang Zhan in place. His face was filled with disbelief.

“Wang Zhan?! It’s actually him?!”

In the past, Wang Zhan had possessed extraordinary talent, but he had also been too sharp and overbearing. After suffering defeat after defeat, he had developed a repressed stubbornness and viciousness.

Especially after being defeated by a single finger from the Cyan Rakshasa outside the Imperial Tomb, he had left in dejection. His retreating figure had been filled with loneliness and unwillingness.

Yet the Wang Zhan standing before him now had climbed to the nine-thousandth step and still appeared to have strength to spare. Though the climb had drained him considerably, the sheer depth of his saintly power foundation and the weight of his Dao resonance were enough to leave Jiang Ruofeng shaken.

How long had it been?

The time between the events at the Imperial Tomb and the opening of the Dao Repository Academy was not particularly long!

“He’s actually transformed this much?!” Jiang Ruofeng was horrified.

Defeated time and again, yet rising to fight again after every defeat—until his final loss to the Cyan Rakshasa. But rather than sink into despair, he had broken through his limits and risen from the ashes, reaching such a level?

An absurd yet uncontrollable thought suddenly sprang into Jiang Ruofeng’s mind.

“Could failure truly be this important? Could it temper a person even more than an uninterrupted string of victories?”

He could not help raising his head once more and looking toward the heights above—to the direction of Battle Asura Xiao Ruobai, Sword in White Fang Hanyu, Cyan Rakshasa Ling Xi, and the other two, whose figures were now almost impossible to see.

An unprecedented battle intent, mixed with an intense desire to investigate, began to burn fiercely within Jiang Ruofeng’s heart.

“Once the Heavenly Stairway trial is over and I’ve settled into the academy...”

Jiang Ruofeng clenched his fists tightly. His gaze was as sharp as a blade as it swept over Wang Zhan before turning toward the heights above.

“I will challenge every one of you! Battle Asura, Sword in White, Cyan Rakshasa—and you, Wang Zhan!

“I want to see with my own eyes what makes your paths so different!”

On the platform below, Wang Zhan naturally sensed Jiang Ruofeng’s exceedingly complicated gaze, and he also noticed the scrutiny of Chu Daolin, Qin Wuye, and the others.

But his expression remained calm. He ignored the others, sat down cross-legged, and circulated his cultivation art with all his might. He absorbed the dense Dao resonance on the platform, comprehended its hidden creation, replenished his strength, and healed his hidden injuries.

Chu Daolin, Qin Wuye, Jiang Ruofeng, and Lei Dong suppressed the turbulence in their hearts. No longer looking back at Wang Zhan, they turned and continued climbing.

Yet every step seemed to be pushing against a divine mountain. Their movements were slow and heavy, clearly bringing each of them close to the limits of their current strength.

Higher up, Xiao Ruobai and the others had already approached the nine-thousand-five-hundredth step!

The moment they set foot there, the entire Heavenly Stairway seemed to sink slightly, while the surrounding space let out a humming groan as though it could no longer bear the strain.

All the trials from before abruptly vanished. In their place came a pure and tyrannical pressure of ultimate intensity, descending with a roar from every inch of the void!

The pressure was so immense that space itself solidified. It sought to crush and pulverize everything that dared to climb, from soul to flesh!

Xiao Ruobai’s body suddenly sank, and the bones throughout him cracked sharply.

He let out a low growl. The blood of the War God thundered within him, forcing his spine straight.

He raised a foot and brought it down. Each movement was as heavy as a mountain shifting, and every step made the stairs tremble.

Yet his pace remained steady, his eyes sharp as blades as he resisted the pure force and moved upward slowly but resolutely.

Fang Hanyu’s body swayed once before coming to a halt, his face paling slightly.

His aura instantly drew inward, and his entire person became like an ancient sword sheathed in its scabbard—unusually heavy and solid.

Under the boundless pressure, he continued forward with firm steps, as though this weight were the finest whetstone for his swordsmanship.

Ling Xi’s body swayed faintly before she adjusted herself. Her aura became deep and unfathomable. Though her steps were no longer light, they remained steady.

“Ow! This pressure’s going to crush Fatty Wang flat!”

Fatty Wang let out a strange cry, his chubby face instantly turning crimson as if an invisible giant hand had seized him.

The omnipresent pressure sought to flatten his Myriad-Talisman Dao Body together with his soul!

He frantically waved both hands. Blood sprayed from his fingers as he recklessly used his own Dao blood and soul as ink, inscribing symbols through the air before him.

One after another, heavy talismans representing the origins of solidity and defense took shape, layering upon one another to resist the immense pressure.

He panted heavily, and his steps slowed considerably, but he never stopped moving forward.

On the other side, Mo Yu let out a muffled groan from deep in his throat.

His crimson-gold Qilin Emperor blood surged through his veins like boiling magma, roaring as he followed Fatty Wang one step at a time up the stairs.

On the nine-thousandth-step platform, Wang Zhan sat cross-legged as the surging blood and qi around him gradually calmed.

Nourished by the platform’s dense Dao resonance, the saintly power he had expended rapidly recovered. The thread of pale-golden saintly blood at the corner of his mouth had long since evaporated.

He slowly opened his eyes. The battle intent burning deep within them was even more blazing than before, yet also more restrained and tranquil—like molten rock beneath an abyss.

He lifted his head and gazed toward the unreachable heights of the Heavenly Stairway.

The first figures to enter his view were those higher up, struggling forward as though trudging through a swamp: Chu Daolin, Qin Wuye, and the others. Their steps were arduous, clearly indicating that they had already approached their limits.