161: Chapter 161 Passing Another Level

Master Qingyang spoke. The voice was not loud, but every word struck his chest like a hammer.

"Lin Xuan. You have cultivated to the Foundation Establishment Stage from bottom-tier aptitude in ten years. I was once very pleased, thinking you were a model for the rising stars of the Sanyang Sect."

He paused, his gaze shifting from gentle to sharp, his pupils slightly constricting.

"But now I know, you have simply had great luck. Hand over the spirit control tower, and the Sect can spare your life, abolish your cultivation, and expel you from the mountain gate. If you remain obsessed—"

A wave of pressure erupted from Master Qingyang.

The pressure of the Golden Core Stage crushed down like an overwhelming tide. It was not the gradual increase of boiling a frog in warm water, but a full release—like a mountain falling from the sky and crashing onto him.

Lin Xuan's knees buckled violently, his kneecaps striking the white jade platform with a dull thud.

The formation patterns on the platform lit up where his knees had struck, and dark red light surged from the cracks, spreading like blood.

His back felt as if it were being pressed by a large hand, his spine emitting an unbearable creaking sound as each vertebra collapsed downward.

His ribs were compressed inward by an inch, the volume of his chest cavity shrank, and his breathing turned into intermittent gasps—he could only inhale halfway before the air was forced out, and the exhaled air was cut off by the next inhalation before it could be fully expelled.

His shoulders felt as if they were being pressed by two thousand-pound boulders, the muscles between his shoulder blades trembling violently.

"—there is only death." Master Qingyang finished the second half of the sentence.

Lin Xuan lifted his eyelids.

The silver-white Inner Sect Disciple robe he wore was very heavy, much heavier than that dusty outer Sect robe.

The thunder-patterned cloud on his chest was crushed and wrinkled by the pressure, like a squeezed water bag.

The thunder seed in his Dantian was pressed so hard by the Golden Core Stage pressure that it almost stopped beating, its purple light as dim as a candle flame about to go out—the gap between the Foundation Establishment Stage and the Golden Core Stage was not quantitative, but qualitative, just as a water droplet can never oppose a flood.

But he thought of a question.

This question surfaced in his mind so quickly that he didn't even have time to be afraid.

It was like a needle, piercing out from his Sea of Consciousness, waking him from the state of being almost suffocated by the pressure.

"Why am I standing here?"

The Heart Mirror Platform reflected the deepest fear in his heart.

It was that nightmare he had suppressed deep in his heart day after day since obtaining the spirit control tower—the crime of harboring a treasure.

Once this thing was exposed, would the Sanyang Sect still protect him? These people, these ones he once called "Sect elders," would they still treat him as a Disciple?

He stood here, being crushed by the pressure.

The people off the platform were not enemies from the Xuanyin Sect, not Loose Cultivators from the Luantian Sea, not Yao Beasts from the Secret Realm—it was the Sanyang Sect.

It was the Sect that led him to Cultivate.

"Nothing more than this."

The moment this thought emerged, Lin Xuan suddenly felt his shoulders lighten a little.

It was not that the Golden Core pressure had disappeared—that pressure was still crushing him, his knees were still trembling, his back was still sinking, and his chest cavity was still being compressed.

But he was no longer afraid.

Fear is a strange thing; before you face it, it is as massive as a mountain.

But when you truly turn around to face it, you will find that it is nothing at all.

The spirit control tower trembled violently in his Sea of Consciousness. It was not the gentle reminder from before, but a vibration bordering on anger.

Clear light erupted from the tower—not flowing water, not thin mist, but a torrent—the clear light washed down along his Meridians, rushing into his limbs and bones, and wherever it passed, those Meridians suppressed by the pressure sprang open one by one.

With every Meridian that sprang open, his breathing became a fraction smoother.

The clear light rushed into his Dantian, wrapping around the purple thunder seed, stripping the Golden Core pressure from the surface of the thunder seed.

The process of stripping it away was very painful—not physical pain, but pain in the Sea of Consciousness, like tearing off a layer of skin stuck to the bone.

The thunder seed beat again within the shroud of clear light, more powerfully than before, and the purple light pierced through the clear light, casting onto the inner walls of his Dantian.

Lin Xuan slowly, inch by inch, straightened his waist.

His spine sprang back vertebra by vertebra, like a bamboo stalk pushed to its limit that had finally shed the heavy weight upon it.

His shoulders spread out, his chest cavity expanded, and large gulps of air poured into his lungs, carrying the chill from the white jade platform.

He lifted his head, looking at the dozen or so Golden Core powerhouses on the platform, looking at the indifference, greed, and scrutiny on their faces.

"Are you even worthy?"

The voice was not loud, but very steady. It was not shouted, but flowed naturally from the depths of his throat.

The four words echoed a few times on the high white jade platform.

All images froze at this moment. Master Qingyang's mouth was still open, but the sound was gone.

The indifferent, mocking, and gloating faces on the viewing platform all froze, like wax figures. Then—

Shattered.

The high white jade platform cracked down the middle, and the fissures radiated outward with him as the center, like a giant spiderweb exploding on an ice surface.

The faces of the sixteen Golden Core powerhouses peeled off piece by piece as the cracks spread; robes, seats, Magical Artifacts, and spiritual light all turned to ash.

The Disciples on the viewing platform were like weathered sand sculptures, blown away by an invisible gale, crumbling into powder layer by layer, from hair to torso to limbs.

The rolling peaks of the Sanyang Sect collapsed into ruins in the distance, the glow of the Spiritual Veins extinguished one by one, and the majestic Sect was trampled flat like a paper model.

Purple light surged back in.

The Void Realm returned to its previous appearance—beneath his feet was a transparent glass floor, and overhead, pale purple halos were spreading in circles.

Only this time, those halos did not look illusory, but like some kind of gentle comfort, casting a faint light when reflected on his face.

Lin Xuan stood in place, gasping for air.

His chest was still heaving violently, his robe on his back was soaked through, sticking to his spine, and he could feel sweat trickling down the groove of his spine, all the way to his belt.

His knees were still trembling slightly, but not the kind of trembling from being crushed earlier—it was the physiological trembling of muscles suddenly relaxing after extreme tension, very fine, and hard to control.

He took five full deep breaths before he could suppress the trembling in his knees.

He raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his face. He wiped from his forehead to his chin, his palm completely wet.

He could feel the corners of his mouth twitch—not a smile, but a very slight tug that he himself wasn't sure was a smile.

In the distance, those two blurred figures had also experienced their own Heart Demons.

One had already crouched down, hands clutching their head, their body trembling violently—the amplitude of the trembling was even greater than when Lin Xuan had trembled just now, shoulders heaving.

A light curtain enveloped their body, making it impossible to see their expression, but intermittent roars could be heard leaking from the light curtain. The roars were dampened by the light curtain, and when they reached Lin Xuan's ears, only a very faint whimpering, like that of an injured beast, remained.

Another person stood straight, unchanged from before entering the Heart Demon, standing in the Void Realm like a stone; the light curtain flowed over them a few times before dispersing.

The other person was already gone. On that transparent ground remained a patch of pale purple light, the mark slightly hot, emitting extremely fine smoke—it was the residual fluctuation left after being swallowed by the Heart Demon and expelled from the Secret Realm.

The fluctuation was very faint, and it would completely dissipate after a while.

That cold voice sounded again. This time, the voice was faster than the previous two times, without any pause.

"Second trial passed. Heart state rating: Top-tier."

Lin Xuan let out a long breath. This breath had been held in his chest for a long time, and when he exhaled, it carried an indescribable sense of relief—not the physical relief of a Breakthrough in cultivation, but a relief he had never experienced before, surging from the depths of his Sea of Consciousness.

It was as if something that had been pressing on his heart for a long time had suddenly been moved away; the stone pressing on his heart had not been shattered, but kicked away by himself.

He lowered his head to look at his open palm, still stained with sweat, wet, and shimmering with a pale purple luster under the purple light of the Void Realm.

His five fingers slowly tightened, clenching into a fist.

The teleportation light gate opened before his eyes again. The purple light inside the light gate was no longer Chaos, but possessed an indescribable order—not violently churning as before, but flowing slowly and rhythmically, as if breathing.

Lin Xuan did not hesitate. He loosened his fist, wiped the undried sweat on his chin with the back of his hand, and stepped inside.