Yan Lu had spoken without realising how loud her voice had become.
When the others heard her words, they became dumbfounded once again.
"Nine-Nine Heavenly Tribulation…?"
Shock rippled through the crowd.
Just as the observers were still struggling to absorb the revelation before them, the fragile calm was shattered.
Among those who had been watching stood several cultivators who had already failed the trial; individuals whose hopes of advancement had been extinguished moments earlier. Their expressions had once been filled with bitterness and resentment as they mocked those still attempting the ascent.
Now, however, one of them stared at the scene with widening eyes.
He had witnessed what the others had seen—the lightning, the awakening of the cosmic soul, the unmistakable sign of a breakthrough. Instead of awe or acceptance, something darker stirred within him.
Refusal.
He refused to believe that another cultivator, someone he had ridiculed only moments ago, could succeed where he himself had failed.
A greedy thought slowly took root in his mind.
Ignoring the strange looks cast in his direction as he strode toward the platform.
Several cultivators watched him with furrowed brows, sensing the instability in his demeanour, but none stepped forward to stop him. His mind had already convinced itself of a simple explanation.
The steps must have malfunctioned.
After all, how could someone like Chu Feng succeed while he himself had failed? The thought gnawed at him, feeding the stubborn arrogance that refused to accept defeat.
If the trial had erred once… perhaps it could err again.
Driven by that fragile hope, he approached the staircase. The air around it carried a faint pressure, but he ignored it. Lifting his foot, he prepared to place it on the very first step—the same place where Chu Feng had once stood.
The moment he drew within reach, an invisible force exploded outward.
It struck him like a hammer from the heavens.
His body was hurled backwards like a rag doll, flying several meters through the air before crashing violently against the ground. The impact sent a dull shock through the platform, and a spray of blood burst from his mouth, nose, and ears.
He lay there twitching, limbs trembling uncontrollably as the remaining force rippled through his broken body.
For a long moment, he simply stared upward at the sky.
His vision swam- the clouds above blurred and twisted as pain flooded every nerve in his body.
Then, slowly…
Realisation dawned on him.
"No…!"
"This can't be!"
The words tore from his throat in a hysterical scream, raw with disbelief and despair. His body trembled violently where he lay, blood still trickling from his lips as the truth settled over him like a crushing weight.
The trial had not malfunctioned.
Around the platform, the cultivators who had witnessed his attempt fell into an uneasy silence. Some had instinctively stepped back when he was hurled away, the violence of the invisible force leaving a lingering sense of danger in the air.
Almost unconsciously, their gazes began to shift.
One by one, they turned toward Chu Feng.
Their expressions were complicated—eyes filled with disbelief at what they had just witnessed, awe at the impossible feat unfolding before them, and envy that flickered like a barely contained flame.
Inside the trial realm, silence still weighed heavily upon the gathered cultivators as their gazes remained fixed upon Chu Feng.
But far beyond this isolated world, the situation outside had already grown dangerously volatile.
The predicted time for the ancient realm's closure had long since passed.
According to what they knew, the entrance should have collapsed by now. Survivors should have emerged, while those who perished inside would remain forever sealed within its depths.
Yet the realm remained open.
The massive spatial gate still hovered in the sky, its surface swirling with slow currents of pale light like a silent vortex. It neither expanded nor shrank.
That abnormality had turned the plains surrounding the entrance into a battlefield waiting to ignite.
Representatives of countless factions had gathered there—elders from powerful sects, patriarchs of great clans, commanders of wandering alliances. Behind them stood rows of disciples and guards, all staring at the suspended gate with restless eyes.
Many of their most talented young elites had entered the realm together.
And none had returned.
Suspicion was inevitable.
Spiritual pressure began to build across the plains as tempers rose. Several factions had already begun accusing one another of secretly interfering with the trial. Old grudges resurfaced, and hostile auras rippled through the crowd like sparks falling upon dry grass.
A war could have erupted at any moment.
It was only when two figures stepped forward that the growing storm was forcibly suppressed.
One was a tall man clad in flowing white robes embroidered with golden clouds. His long hair was tied neatly behind his back, and his calm eyes carried the quiet authority of someone accustomed to command. When he released a trace of his cultivation, the air itself seemed to grow heavy, pressing down upon the restless gathering.
He represented the human factions.
Opposite him stood a towering figure with dark bronze skin and sharp, beastlike features. Two faint horns curved back from his temples, and his eyes gleamed like molten amber. Though he stood in human form, a faint aura of primal savagery lingered around him.
He represented the beast clans.
Neither spoke at first.
Instead, both released a carefully controlled wave of spiritual pressure.
The effect was immediate.
The invisible force spread across the plains like a silent tide, pressing down upon the arguing factions and forcing their chaotic auras to subside. Even the most hot-headed cultivators fell silent under that combined authority.
Only then did the man in white finally speak.
His gaze shifted toward the figure standing opposite him, calm yet piercing, as though attempting to read something hidden behind the other's composure.
"We demand an explanation," he said evenly.
Despite the quiet tone, his voice carried across the entire gathering with unmistakable authority.
A wave of low murmurs immediately rippled through the crowd. Cultivators exchanged uneasy glances, their whispers spreading like wind through tall grass. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface now began to rise openly.
Not far away, the beast representative slowly narrowed his eyes.
His gaze remained fixed on the floating gate, studying the faint distortions of energy swirling around its surface. The ancient structure hung silently in the air, yet something about it felt… different.
"A change may have occurred inside," he said at last, his voice measured. "Something beyond what we knew."
A faint glint flashed in the eyes of the man in white.
For a brief moment, the two leaders exchanged a glance.
No words were spoken between them, yet the meaning was clear.
Neither of them truly understood what was happening.
And in a place filled with powerful cultivators, ancient forces, and ambitions stretching toward the heavens, uncertainty was the most dangerous element of all.
Moving a short distance away from the crowd, they spoke quietly, their voices shielded by layers of spiritual energy so that none of the surrounding factions could intercept. Though they represented opposing sides, both understood the delicate stakes: any reckless action now could ignite a catastrophe from which no one would easily recover.
After a tense interval, they returned to the platform. The man in white raised his voice, firm and deliberate.
"We will test the entrance," he announced. "By sending two juniors from each side."
A young cultivator from the human factions was called forward—an elite disciple who had arrived too late to enter the realm earlier. From the beast clans, a young warrior with a tiger bloodline stepped out to represent their side.
The two youths approached the gate cautiously.
The swirling vortex glowed faintly as they drew closer.
Encouraged by the lack of resistance, they stepped forward together.
The moment they crossed the invisible boundary—
The gate erupted with blinding light.
A violent surge of spatial energy exploded outward like a living force rejecting their presence. Both youths were thrown backwards as though struck by an invisible hammer, tumoring across the ground before scrambling to their feet in shock.
The gate returned to silence.
It had clearly refused any entrance.
The two representatives observed the result without surprise, though their expressions grew noticeably more serious.
After a long pause, the beast representative exhaled slowly.
"It seems," he said, "we can only wait."
The man in white nodded.
For now, the fate of everyone inside the realm remained beyond their reach.
Far to the east of this tense gathering, the world presented a very different landscape.
The eastern territories were infamous across the continent.
If the central regions were governed by sects and noble clans, the east was a place where such order barely existed. Mountain ranges carved deep scars across the land, forests stretched endlessly across mist-covered valleys, and lawless cities rose wherever opportunity appeared.
Bandits ruled the roads.
Pirates dominated the coastal waters.
Mercenary companies, rogue cultivators, wandering beast tribes, and remnants of forgotten sects all competed for survival in a chaotic balance where strength alone determined fate.
It was toward this restless frontier that Jìn Bǎo had chosen to travel.
The journey had already proven far more dangerous than he had expected.