“Let’s go, Huaixi. Straight to the third floor,” Lin Yun said.
For Lin Yun, the early floors posed no challenge, but for Huaixi, reaching the third floor was a monumental test.
“Alright,” Huaixi replied.
They soon reached the glowing portal to the third floor.
“I need to grow stronger to protect the tribe. I *must* reach the third floor!” Huaixi clenched his fists, eyes resolute.
He turned to Lin Yun. “Lord Lin, I might not make it. If I fail, I’ll retreat to the second floor for merit. If I can’t ascend, don’t wait for me.”
Huaixi yearned for the third floor but faced the reality that success was unlikely.
“Understood,” Lin Yun nodded.
Lin Yun sympathized. Having risen from nothing, he understood Huaixi’s drive. This might be his only chance to change his life and protect his tribe.
But the ascent required personal strength, and Lin Yun couldn’t assist him here.
They stepped into the portal together.
Inside, light enveloped Lin Yun, trying to bind him.
This time, the force was stronger than before, but still negligible to Lin Yun. With a slight effort, he broke free and pushed forward.
As the light faded, he arrived on the third floor.
He surveyed the surroundings—similar to the second floor, with little difference.
“I wonder if Huaixi will make it,” Lin Yun said.
He waited briefly, but Huaixi didn’t appear.
“Looks like he didn’t succeed,” Lin Yun sighed, shaking his head.
Countless others, like Huaixi, dreamed of growing stronger, yet faced the face of opportunity, their weakness held them back, forcing them to accept reality.
With Huaixi absent, Lin Yun pressed on to the fourth floor.
…
As Lin Yun ascended, most of the four alliances’ tribesmen crossed the rainbow bridges outside, entering the first floor.
The Wuji Heavenly Palace buzzed with activity.
Lin Yun breezed through the fourth and fifth floors.
He didn’t linger on these middle floors.
Each floor’s portal increased the binding force significantly.
Now, Lin Yun reached the sixth floor.
“Hm? This is different,” he noted.
The sixth floor’s environment starkly contrasted with the lower five, with far fewer stone pillars.
According to the four leaders, reaching the sixth floor was rare in the Wuji Realm, happening perhaps once a century.
This floor was already exceptional.
But Lin Yun didn’t stay, soon reaching the portal to the seventh floor.
Entering the portal, light enveloped and bound him as before.
This time, the binding force surged dramatically!
For the Wuji Realm’s younger generation, such a force was daunting.
But Lin Yun’s Tianhao Body was no ordinary feat. With a burst of strength, he shattered the light effortlessly.
As it dispersed, the seventh floor came into view.
“Seventh floor,” Lin Yun said, smiling.
The journey had been smooth, lifting his spirits.
The light cleared, revealing a new scene: blue skies with drifting clouds above, soft grass beneath his feet.
Ahead stood a castle.
“Where am I? Is this the seventh floor?” Lin Yun glanced around, puzzled.
“Lin Yun!”
A familiar, graceful figure approached with a smile—Wang Xue.
“Wang Xue?” Lin Yun froze, stunned.
In moments, Wang Xue reached him.
She looked as pure and captivating as she did in their student days.
“Lin Yun, did you miss me? I… I missed you so much,” Wang Xue said, biting her lip shyly, her demeanor tender.
“I… of course I missed you,” Lin Yun said, reaching out to gently take her hand.
It felt real!
Her hand’s warmth and softness were undeniable.
“Wang Xue, I… I’m sorry. I caused your death!” Lin Yun pulled her into an embrace, his voice choking with emotion.
The long-suppressed guilt in his heart erupted!
To save the world, he’d chosen to act against her, a wound that never healed.
“Silly, I’m alive and well, living here. Oh, and your mother’s here too,” Wang Xue said, pointing toward the castle.
Lin Yun looked up to see his mother emerging from the castle.
“Yun’er, I’ve missed you so much! Why haven’t you visited? I’ve been waiting here!” his mother called, rushing toward him with joy.
“Mom…”
Her voice pierced his heart, so familiar, so real.
“Mom!”
Lin Yun ran to her, throwing himself into her arms.
On Earth, he’d saved countless lives but failed to save her.
This was another deep regret, a thorn in his heart.
He’d fulfilled his duty to the world but not his filial piety.
Though he rarely spoke of it, the pain lingered.
“Mom, I’ve been unfilial!” Lin Yun sobbed, unable to hold back.
No matter how powerful he was, in his mother’s presence, he was still a vulnerable child.
“Yun’er, I don’t blame you. Stay here and keep me company, alright?” his mother said, holding his hand with a gentle, loving smile.
As Lin Yun was about to agree, he froze.
No!
Wang Xue was dead. His mother was dead!
This wasn’t real—it was an illusion!
“Yun’er, why aren’t you speaking?” his mother asked, puzzled.
“No, this is fake… fake…” Lin Yun shook his head vigorously.
“Fake? I’m your mother. Don’t you trust me? Come to the castle,” she urged, pulling his hand.
“I… I…” Lin Yun hesitated, torn.
Even if it was fake, it felt so beautiful, so real!
Who could reject such vivid, cherished illusions?
Facing his mother, Lin Yun couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
“Yun’er, let’s go. Many others you want to see are waiting in the castle,” she said, leading him toward it.
