Lord Wanshouyuan climbed step by step. Around him, the Pangu Pressure had grown almost solid, as though billions of tons of divine iron were crushing his body without pause.
The pressure bore down not only on his skin. It pierced through to his marrow and even reached deep into his Primordial Spirit. It carried the vast, domineering force of the Primordial Wilderness at its birth, seeking to crush him utterly, absorb him, and return him to this world.
The mountain grew steeper until it was nearly vertical. Jagged rocks jutted out on every side. Each blue-black outcrop had sharp edges and a cold metallic sheen, as though it still held traces of the Chaos Aura from the opening of heaven and earth. It was ancient, heavy, and terrifying.
At this height, an ordinary creature could not have taken a single step. Even a Golden Immortal of slightly lesser cultivation might have been unable to move, or been crushed until his body collapsed and his Primordial Spirit dispersed, becoming nourishment for Buzhou Mountain.
He looked around. A boundless sea of clouds rolled like an endless sea of chaos. Not a single living creature remained in sight, not even a bird. All was silent save for the howling winds, sharp enough to cut through space, and Pangu's omnipresent, unchanging might.
He alone pressed on, a solitary pilgrim pitting his unyielding will and ever-hardened body against the supreme power left from the dawn of the Primordial Wilderness.
Against the vast mountain, his figure looked small, yet his back held a stubborn resolve that seemed capable of standing between heaven and earth.
Each step upward demanded every ounce of strength in his body to resist the immense force bearing down from above and pressing in from all sides.
When his foot came down, the rock, harder than tempered steel, trembled and took a shallow imprint. The unseen pressure smoothed it away at once.
His bones gave faint, strained groans, as if they might shatter at any moment. Under the extreme pressure, flesh and meridians tore again and again. Tiny beads of blood had barely seeped from his pores before they were forced back inside or crushed into nothing.
Then the vast Wood Vitality within him surged. Azure light welled up from deep in his organs and marrow, nourishing and repairing the damage. The cycle repeated, slowly but surely strengthening his Dao body through endless pain. Each recovery brought him a little closer to adapting to the Pangu Pressure.
Muscle fibers snapped under the weight, then joined again as azure light flowed through them. They became denser, and mysterious Runes flickered briefly through their grain, allowing them to withstand still more of that dreadful force.
The Wood Magical Power rushing through his meridians was compressed until it almost stopped, struggling onward as though through a swamp. Yet driven by his formidable will, it continued to flow.
He directed its abundant vitality precisely into every inch of flesh that needed it, while stale qi and spent blood squeezed from his body slowly escaped through his acupoints, only to be purified by the pressure outside.
But the pressure seemed to rise without end. The higher he went, the more it multiplied, gaining a terrifying quality that wore away the soul and eroded the Dao Foundation.
By the time Lord Wanshouyuan reached a great projecting ledge, he felt close to his limit. His organs seemed to have shifted inside him, and his Primordial Spirit Light, compressed within his inner palace, flickered unsteadily.
If he kept forcing his body alone to bear it, he risked damaging his very source or even shaking his Dao Foundation. That would defeat the purpose.
The Body Protection Azure Light around him had dimmed. Even breathing took effort, his chest rising and falling with difficulty.
Every breath in felt like swallowing billions of tons of crushed metal and stone, scraping his throat and lungs. Every breath out brought tearing pain, and the air he expelled was crushed instantly with a muffled sonic boom.
He had to stop climbing. His gaze flashed as he surveyed the relatively level ledge.
Its surface was smooth as a mirror and reflected a cold, faint gleam. Countless ages under the pressure had clearly polished it to an extraordinary hardness.
He probed carefully with his divine sense and found a hollow naturally formed by several huge boulders. Their arrangement weakened the pressure there ever so slightly, as if it had created a natural force field that offset part of the weight.
He moved into it at once, each step ponderous and leaving a shallow mark that was promptly flattened. He sat cross-legged, ceased holding back his magical power, and began guiding his breathing to recover.
Hum—
A low, vast hum sounded from within him. Azure light blazed around him like a sun suddenly kindled on that lofty peak. His pure, abundant Wood Magical Power circulated of its own accord, swiftly nourishing and restoring his weary, dimmed body like rain after a long drought.
At the same time, it formed a dense, sturdy barrier around him. Countless Runes of life flowed across it, keeping some of the all-pervading, all-crushing Pangu Pressure at bay.
The azure light clashed fiercely with the invisible pressure. Fine, rapid cracks filled the air, scattering countless flecks of blue-gold light that flared and vanished like stars.
The crushing weight eased a fraction. He let out a long breath of stale air, which the remaining pressure shattered the moment it left his mouth.
He needed this rare chance to catch his breath and restore himself to his best condition before continuing the still harder climb ahead.
He formed a hand seal and rested his hands on his knees. Behind him, the faint image of the Ginseng Fruit Tree appeared and faded, drawing on the thin but pure Wutu Essence Qi deep in the earth to aid his Wood Magical Power in a deeper recovery.
As he turned his attention inward, circulated the Wood Scripture at full strength, and drew on the Ginseng Fruit Tree's innate vitality to regulate his body and mend its deepest, finest cracks, something changed.
With his magical power running at full force, his divine sense grew exceptionally sharp and active. His awareness of the surrounding world became clearer and more profound.
Suddenly, he sensed something: an exceedingly faint yet strangely familiar pulse that resonated with his source. It passed through the heavy Pangu Pressure and seemed to come from behind a stretch of blue-black cliff not far from the ledge, a wall that appeared completely solid.
That pulse... it was profoundly mysterious and deeply concealed. It seemed to move in time with Buzhou Mountain's breathing, yet followed a rhythm of its own, carrying an innate, natural Dao resonance.
Had he not been born from an Innate Spiritual Root and lived for years on Longevity Mountain, intimately familiar with the workings of the Innate Xutu Great Formation and the flow of the Earth Veins, he might have mistaken that pulse for an illusion caused by a shift in the pressure.
The sensation was remarkably similar to the naturally formed earth formation that guarded his Wuzhuang Temple of Longevity Mountain!
Both had arisen innately, not through anyone's efforts. Both were linked to the Earth Veins and contained the most primal, natural power of the Heaven and Earth Law. They were mysterious beyond measure.
Could it be... a Xiantian Restriction?
Lord Wanshouyuan stirred and immediately broke from his deep recovery. He opened his eyes, azure light flowing through them like two divine lamps, and peered through the oppressive haze toward the source of the pulse.
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