Chapter Eleven: The Trial

The Celestial Phoenix Roc soared with astonishing speed, covering a thousand miles in an instant. Its wings trembled lightly, transforming into a golden streak that carried Luo Hao and Zhan Wujie deep into the mist-shrouded mountains. As they plunged into the swirling clouds, Luo Hao's heart quivered—within the mist, the spiritual energy was so dense it defied belief, a world apart from the outside.

Soon, the Celestial Phoenix Roc pierced through the foggy region, and Luo Hao’s gaze was suddenly dazzled. High above, a divine sun blazed in the sky, five-colored radiance streamed through the void, myriad auspicious lights shone forth. Ancient medicinal herbs entwined the mountain slopes, old vines curled like dragons, rainbow phoenixes danced, and spirit beasts sprawled everywhere, filling the air with fragrance and vitality.

Below the mountains, dragon veins converged, channeling the essence of ten directions continuously into the peaks. Bathed in this surging spiritual energy, every creature brimmed with life force. Even stubborn rocks bore faint patterns, some forming tiny apertures that inhaled and exhaled essence.

“Junior Brother, ahead lies the main peak of the Heavenly Sea Sect—Heaven-Suppressing Peak. The sect's grand hall stands atop its summit. Heaven-Suppressing Peak has several branches; you’ll learn more upon entry. Now is the time for the sect to recruit disciples. Though you have a recommendation letter, whether you’ll be admitted depends on your fortune.” As he spoke, the Celestial Phoenix Roc descended to a place thick with spiritual energy.

Zhan Wujie patted the roc and dismounted, adding, “Anyone who wishes to join the Heavenly Sea Sect must ascend the hundred thousand steps to the summit by their own strength. You have three days—do your best.” He pointed toward a towering peak in the distance. Luo Hao looked in the direction indicated, seeing a mountain thrusting into the clouds like a peerless sword, guarded at its base by several dragon veins, majestic and imposing.

On Heaven-Suppressing Peak, a staircase stretched endlessly from the summit, winding and twisting like a coiled dragon. Luo Hao’s heart stirred—he could hardly believe there were only a hundred thousand steps.

He turned to Zhan Wujie, “Senior Brother Zhan, this—” But when he looked, Zhan Wujie was already gone.

He smiled wryly, “Seems Senior Brother has left. I don’t even know which branch he belongs to. If only I could join the same one, I’d have free rein here.” Still, despite his frustration, Luo Hao began making his way toward the mountain’s base.

Along the path, Luo Hao witnessed wonders: in the streams, fish swam with bodies shimmering gold, two dragon whiskers sprouting from their mouths, exuding faint draconic aura. Beside a pool, a creature resembling the legendary qilin bent to drink; atop a black stone patterned with runes, a mysterious turtle, akin to the ancient bixi, lay absorbing and releasing essence. The marks on its shell resembled the rings of time—vast and dignified. Seeing so many mythical creatures he once thought existed only in stories, Luo Hao felt almost numb.

Beyond these extraordinary beings, he sensed countless presences moving toward Heaven-Suppressing Peak—likely other martial artists vying for entry, like himself. This thought quickened his steps.

At the summit, Zhan Wujie’s tall figure appeared, gazing down with a slight smile. Suddenly, a streak of pale purple flashed behind him, rapidly enlarging, and a melodious voice rang out, “Senior Brother Zhan, I heard you went after the Star Ghost Daoist. Are you alright?”

Zhan Wujie instinctively turned, finding three young women standing gracefully behind him. Each was radiant, a beauty of national fame. Their arrival seemed to brighten the peak itself.

The most striking among them was the woman in a violet dress. She appeared just over twenty, her purple hair cascading over her shoulders. Her starry eyes held a trace of maturity; her full cherry lips were alluring, her exquisite figure curvaceous, and her slender waist gave way to long, jade-like legs exposed beneath her dress.

“So it’s the three sisters from Jade Bamboo Peak: Su Yu, Su Yao, and Han Ling’er. Junior Sister Su Yu, I’m fine, though the Star Ghost Daoist escaped. Are you and Elder Qingyang jointly arranging the new disciples this year?” Zhan Wujie turned to the three, his gaze lingering a moment longer on Su Yu before he smiled.

“Yes, Senior Brother, this year we’re assisting Elder Qingyang in welcoming the new disciples. I wonder how many will manage to climb the hundred thousand steps,” replied Su Yao, her red dress making her seem like a vibrant spirit. She nudged Su Yu, “Sister, you kept mentioning Senior Brother while he was away. Now that he’s here, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” Su Yu’s cheeks flushed as she excused herself to visit Elder Qingyang. As she left, Su Yao and Han Ling’er bid Zhan Wujie farewell. He glanced once more down the mountain and, like a streak of light, flew off to another location.

Half an hour later, Luo Hao arrived at the base of Heaven-Suppressing Peak, where a crowd had already gathered. Emerging from the forest in his tattered clothes, he immediately drew countless gazes—some curious, others derisive.

“A beggar thinks he can join the Heavenly Sea Sect? Does he know what kind of place this is? He’s not fit to enter with us.” As Luo Hao approached, a cold, disdainful voice rang out, making him frown. He looked toward the source—a handsome youth with skin like white jade, perched atop a stone, staring down at him with contempt.

Luo Hao’s lips curled into a sly smile as he faced the youth, “And what are you, to judge me? In my eyes, you’re nothing but a paper tiger.”

An uproar swept through the crowd—was this beggar really so arrogant? The youth’s face darkened.

“You’ll pay for your words. I, Dongfang Ming, do not kill the nameless. Tell me—what is your name?” Dongfang Ming stepped down, his clothes rippling with fierce spiritual power. The pressure of his eighth-level Qi Spirit cultivation drew many glances.

“So that’s Dongfang Ming, the second son of the Dongfang family head. They say he’s as gifted as his elder brother Dongfang Ao—both reached eighth-level Qi Spirit in just three years. Dongfang Ao joined the sect years ago and became an elite disciple. Looks like this beggar is doomed,” murmured many, now regarding Luo Hao with pity.

“Sister, is that guy really a beggar?” A pair of starry eyes watched Luo Hao’s back with curiosity. The woman being asked only smiled—how could a beggar have reached the Heavenly Sea Sect?

“My name? Hah, the dead need not know my name.” Luo Hao stood with hands behind his back, his expression calm as stagnant water, entirely unphased by Dongfang Ming’s aura. Compared to the oppressive force of the ancient corpse he’d faced, Dongfang Ming was nothing.

“Interesting. To speak to me this way—you’ll die. Flame King Fist!” Dongfang Ming sneered, then burst forward like a cannonball.

Instantly, endless flames surged from his fist as he punched. A divine sun rose, the air temperature soared, and spiritual energy gathered into a sea of fire. The crowd retreated, save for a few who stood their ground.

Boom!

A tremor echoed through the void. The massive divine sun, like a golden millstone, pressed down on Luo Hao; its path seemed to ignite the very spiritual energy.

“Out of my way!” Luo Hao roared, stomping hard enough to crack the ground, then punched back. A thunderous tiger’s roar resounded, chilling all who heard it. The shadow of a peerless ferocious tiger surged behind him, its terrifying power rippling through the air.

“What a fearsome fist technique! Such lethal intent!” Many youths trembled, faces pale, hearts quaking as the murderous aura seeped into their bones.

“Tiger’s Roar in the Forest!”

Under countless shocked gazes, the tiger’s shadow bellowed skyward, stirring a boundless storm as it lunged mercilessly at the golden sun. The battle energy swept the void, causing tangible ripples.

Bang!

The tiger’s shadow collided fiercely with the golden sun. Spiritual energy exploded outward, and the tiger’s paw shattered the sun, its might sweeping across heaven and earth.

Dongfang Ming’s eyes widened as he resisted with all his strength, but the blow’s force was relentless. The golden sun crumbled; a terrifying power surged into his fist.

“Ah!” With a shrill cry, Dongfang Ming’s body flew like a broken kite, slamming into a distant cliff. Blood sprayed from his mouth.

“This is but a minor warning. Cross me again, and face the consequences!” Luo Hao withdrew his fist, his voice cold, not even glancing at Dongfang Ming. Dongfang Ming’s face twisted with frustration, but he could do nothing—he could only grit his teeth in silence.

Luo Hao’s decisiveness and terrifying strength silenced all contempt. This was a man who could defeat an eighth-level Qi Spirit cultivator—not someone to provoke.

After Dongfang Ming’s defeat, no one dared trouble Luo Hao again. He observed quietly, thinking to himself that in this land, strength truly is everything. His resolve to become powerful grew ever stronger.

Dong—dong—dong—dong!

A melodious bell rang out suddenly. Upon its sound, the restriction on the steps below Heaven-Suppressing Peak slowly lifted—the hundred thousand steps, coiled like a dragon, appeared before Luo Hao. All the youths felt their hearts surge with excitement. If they could traverse those steps, they would formally enter the Heavenly Sea Sect.