Atop the Sky Ladder.
When Chen Xuan and over twenty other heavenly prodigies who had formed Immortal Cores stood side by side at the summit of the Sky Ladder, their robes were neat, their expressions composed, and their breaths steady. Climbing all eighty-one steps had been as easy for them as taking a stroll through their own back garden.
Situ Lie stood with his arms folded, his trademark smile hanging from his lips as he looked down below, as though watching a fine show.
Luo Feiyu stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze indifferent, as if nothing in the world was worth a second glance from him.
The young monk Mingjing pressed his palms together and chanted scriptures with his eyes closed. Faint Buddhist light circulated around him, leaving him unmoved by worldly things.
Bai Aotian stood at the edge, his gaze cold and stern, disdainful of everything around him.
Wu Man squatted on the steps, idly drawing circles on the ground with a finger. From time to time, he lifted his head to glance at the figures still struggling below, his eyes filled with boredom.
Chen Xuan stood at the center of the crowd, his face calm as still water. His gaze swept across those figures still climbing below. There was neither contempt nor pity in his eyes, only a faint tranquility.
Below the Sky Ladder, however, the climbers were in stark contrast to the prodigies at its summit.
At this time, the many prodigies below had already reached the nine steps of the eighth tier of the Sky Ladder. Every one of them was panting heavily, drenched in sweat; some climbers were even bleeding from all seven orifices.
On the eighth tier of the Sky Ladder, a young man in a green robe laboriously lifted his