The crowd stood stunned. The two beings had been immensely powerful, yet now one lay dead and the other wounded. The youth's attacks had seemed effortless—where had this prodigy emerged from?
Some realized why he dared confront the Martial Hall: his strength was terrifying, likely a scion of a great clan with profound physical tempering. Some even suspected he might be an ancient fiendbeast in human form.
Wu Penghai was nearly吓死 (scared to death). When he'd fought Daoling earlier, the youth hadn't been this strong. How could he have grown so rapidly in just a few days? This was no ordinary prodigy—this was a monster.
"So runes can merge with flesh and blood," Daoling thought, excited. "This greatly enhances attack power, though it consumes more energy." He burned with eagerness to break through to the Soul Convergence Realm.
Wu Hongsheng's aura surged, but his expression remained calm. "Not bad. You've earned my personal attention."
Wu Penghai, about to flee, took heart at Wu Hongsheng's composure, trusting he had a way to deal with Daoling.
"You talk big. Let's see if you can back it up!" Daoling's dark eyes lit up as he charged, golden runes shimmering beneath his skin.
Wu Hongsheng snorted, extending a hand coiled in lightning. Each thread of lightning shattered the vacuum as he swatted at Daoling.
"Cousin has mastered the clan's Ancient Lightning Secret Technique!" Wu Penghai rejoiced. This fearsome technique required channeling real lightning, a perilous practice—many elder Martial Hall experts had died attempting to master it.
Daoling's golden runes clashed with the lightning, triggering天地共振 (heaven-earth resonance). The lightning was powerful, but it was canceled out by the runes.
Daoling showed no surprise; the runes were newly formed and not yet at full power. More runes hovered around him, radiating golden light as he engaged Wu Hongsheng in close combat, shattering ten-thousand-jin boulders around them.
"This youth is terrifying," a being murmured. "Though Wu Hongsheng wields a secret technique, he relies on the lightning illusions of his higher realm." Others nodded in agreement.
Wu Hongsheng's expression darkened. He'd thought Daoling relied solely on runes, but his physical body was so robust it could clash with him head-on. Lightning was ferocious, one of the most violent attack techniques, yet it barely harmed Daoling—this astonished him.
After a hundred exchanges, Wu Hongsheng's patience snapped. His palm erupted in purple light, like carved amethyst, unleashing more violent lightning that crashed down.
Daoling's fist surged with even greater might, golden runes flying as it clashed with the lightning, forming a raging storm.
"My realm is too low, and my energy is insufficient to enhance the runes' power," Daoling thought, deciding to end the experiment.
"Suppress him!" Wu Hongsheng roared, hair whipping as purple lightning flared in his eyes. He spat a bolt of purple lightning, radiating destructive force that twisted and collapsed the vacuum.
"Excellent! Cousin has nurtured a primal lightning in his body—this will surely kill the brat!" Wu Penghai cheered, for this approached the energy limit the Spirit Pagoda could withstand.
The crowd gasped at the power of this divine ability. Many ancient techniques allowed storing special attacks within the body for confronting强敌（Powerful enemy ）.
Daoling sensed the danger—this lightning could truly wound him. Stamping the ground, he cracked the earth, forming a fist seal as golden runes surged like waves.
His punch erupted with billowing blood energy, the fist seal accompanied by a tide of golden runes, roaring forward like a dragon emerging from the sea.
Rumble!
The earth collapsed, rocks flying as窒息 (choking) energy surged outward. A golden figure stood amidst the chaos, runes blazing as three consecutive punches shattered the purple lightning. Then he waved his hand, golden runes sweeping up a storm of rocks to crush Wu Hongsheng.
"Who is this? He destroyed the lightning bare-handed! Is he a human prodigy?" someone shouted in awe. That lightning had neared the pagoda's energy limit, yet he'd destroyed it with his bare hands.
When the dust cleared, the crowd rushed forward, only to find Wu Penghai's group howling in pain—Daoling was gone.
"Dammit!" Wu Hongsheng raged, disheveled and blood-eyed. Losing here was a disgrace. "Summon reinforcements! He must be injured!" This youth who could withstand lightning was a threat that must be eliminated.
On the seventh floor, Daoling inspected his charred fist. Though he'd destroyed the lightning, it had wounded him. He sat to meditate, absorbing the pagoda's life force to heal. His broken bones knitted together, crackling with recovering energy.
Lightning wounds were hard to heal, but Daoling's body was formidable enough to handle it. An hour later, he opened his eyes, found the entrance to the eighth floor, and stepped inside.
The eighth floor's pressure was intense, even for Daoling. Shadows sat distant; one opened its eyes at his arrival, then closed them again at the sight of his rune-shrouded form.
Daoling used runes to hide his appearance as he wandered the eighth floor, eventually settling in a remote spot to meditate. Rich energy poured into him, strengthening his wood-attributed power. He planned to train here before attempting the ninth floor, where the pressure was said to have killed ancient fiendbeasts.
A dozen beings meditated on the eighth floor, each absorbing energy and tempering their bodies without disturbing others. The pagoda's energy was invaluable for physical cultivation, drawing prodigies from all regions.
Five days passed. A cultivator died while tempering their body, crushed by the pagoda's pressure.
In the depths, thunder rumbled as Daoling sat surrounded by clouds. Emerald divine light poured into his head, releasing endless life force. The eighth floor's pressure had made his body more resilient than ever.
That day, he rose silently and approached the ninth floor's entrance—an imposing gateway spewing essence, ringed by golden runes and stained with dried blood from those who'd been turned to mist.
Beyond lay a golden passage shrouded in mist, exuding holiness. As Daoling stepped in, crushing pressure surged like a flood, making his body tremble. Fully inside, his bones screamed as if about to explode.
"Incredible pressure—just the entrance is this terrifying!" he marveled, forcing his way forward. The ground sank beneath him; only the golden runes kept him from being buried.
"They say the ninth floor holds great fortune. What treasures lie within? And the tenth floor—what's there?" he wondered, moving slowly as the journey drained him.
The golden passage was long and sacred. As he deepened his stride, his eyes snapped to several figures ahead—formidable shadows standing in the passage, their auras如山 (like mountains), distorting the golden runes around them.