The final corridor of the First Level dissolved behind them.
As Lin Feng stepped forward, the black-and-gold stone beneath his feet cracked softly, then faded into drifting motes of light. The oppressive tension of the maze—its shifting walls, hidden blades, and predatory formations—vanished in an instant, as if it had never existed.
A low chime echoed through the space.
First Trial: Cleared.
The air grew still.
Lin Feng exhaled slowly, only now realizing how tightly he had been holding his breath. His companion straightened beside him, her expression composed, but a faint relaxation passed through her shoulders.
"We made it," she said quietly.
Before them, space folded inward, forming a circular platform of pale stone suspended in emptiness. Ancient runes ignited one by one along its edge, radiating a muted brilliance. At the center hovered a translucent gate, its surface rippling like water disturbed by a single drop.
Lin Feng's bronze ring pulsed—once.
Lao Yao's voice emerged, steadier now, touched with restrained satisfaction.
"Good. Your cooperation was efficient. The First Level tested perception and coordination. You passed without triggering a single lethal sequence. That alone puts you ahead of most."
Lin Feng nodded. "The maze felt… like it was learning us."
"It was," Lao Yao replied. "But its creator lacked imagination. Mediocre, as those elders above would say."
The girl smiled faintly at that, unaware of the deeper meaning behind his words.
The gate before them responded to their presence. Runes rearranged themselves, forming a new configuration—denser, more complex. The surrounding Dao shifted, no longer subtle, but pressing.
Lin Feng's expression sharpened.
"This feels different."
His companion's eyes narrowed, Supreme Lord aura instinctively reinforcing itself. "Much heavier. The Dao here isn't passive anymore."
Lao Yao confirmed it.
"The Second Level abandons deception. This is no longer a maze—it is confrontation. Direct trials. Pressure. Choice under force."
The platform trembled lightly as the gate opened.
Beyond it lay a vast arena of fractured land floating in layers, each island rotating slowly around a central axis of condensed Dao light. Chains of inscriptions linked the fragments together, pulsing rhythmically like a living heart.
At the far end, shadowy silhouettes flickered into existence—constructs, beasts, or perhaps projections of past cultivators. Their forms were unclear, but their intent was unmistakable.
Hostile.
Lin Feng felt his pulse quicken.
Above—far beyond this layer of space—the Nine Divine Golden Dragons shifted.
Feng Hao's gaze followed the transition with mild interest.
"The second part," he murmured.
One of the Ancient Elders scoffed lightly. "Combat and pressure trials. Predictable."
Another added, "At least this will filter out the unworthy quickly."
Feng Hao said nothing.
His attention remained fixed—not on the arena as a whole, but on a single thread of fate moving through it.
Lin Feng stepped forward.
As his foot crossed the threshold, the gate sealed behind them with a soft, final hum. The First Level was gone—locked, recorded, concluded.
The Second Level awakened.
The Dao pressure surged.
The silhouettes ahead solidified, and the inheritance, no longer testing cleverness, prepared to test will.
Lin Feng tightened his grip on his sword.
Beside him, his companion's aura flared—calm, controlled, resolute.
And within the bronze ring, Lao Yao watched closely.
"This," the fallen Holy Lord said quietly,
"is where growth truly begins."
The Second Level did not welcome them.
It pressed.
The moment Lin Feng and his companion fully entered the fractured arena, the Dao density surged violently. Gravity warped. Space distorted. Every floating landmass radiated suppression formations that did not discriminate—strength, will, soul, and intent were all weighed equally.
Lin Feng felt it immediately.
His knees bent a fraction as the pressure bore down on him, forcing his cultivation to circulate at full speed just to remain standing. The Lord Realm aura around him wavered, compressed to its limit.
His companion reacted instantly.
A Supreme Lord–level domain unfolded around them, not expansive, but precise—a thin layer of controlled Dao that shielded Lin Feng from being crushed outright.
"Don't rely on me too much," she said calmly, eyes fixed forward. "This trial is meant for you too."
Lin Feng nodded, teeth clenched. "I know."
The first enemies formed.
Stone constructs rose from the fractured islands—humanoid figures etched with ancient runes, each one radiating Lord-level combat intent. Their eyes ignited simultaneously.
They attacked without warning.
The battlefield erupted.
Lin Feng moved on instinct, drawing his sword as Dao surged through his meridians. His strikes were clean, efficient—but every swing felt heavier than the last, as if the inheritance itself resisted him.
One construct shattered under a combined assault—his blade piercing its core as his companion erased its upper half with a precise Dao pulse.
But more emerged.
Five. Ten.
They came in waves, each stronger than the last.
Lin Feng was forced to adapt.
He stopped trying to overpower them.
Instead, he watched.
The constructs moved in fixed patterns—subtle, but consistent. Their formations mirrored fragments of an ancient battle array. Once he noticed it, his mind raced.
"Left construct—delay by half a breath," he called.
His companion trusted him instantly, shifting her timing.
The formation broke.
The next wave fell faster.
Inside the bronze ring, Lao Yao observed silently—then spoke, approval clear in his tone.
"Good. You're learning to read intent, not just force. This trial rewards comprehension over brute strength."
The inheritance escalated.
The Dao pressure doubled.
Illusions layered over reality—phantom enemies striking from impossible angles, memories dragged from the depths of Lin Feng's mind and weaponized against him. For a brief moment, he saw himself failing—falling, kneeling, powerless beneath beings far beyond his reach.
His breath hitched.
The illusion nearly took him.
Then the bronze ring burned hot.
"Focus," Lao Yao snapped. "This is false dominance. Do not compare yourself to endpoints—compare yourself to yesterday."
Lin Feng's eyes cleared.
His will hardened.
He stepped forward into the illusion and cut it apart.
The inheritance responded.
A roar echoed through the arena as the final trial manifested—a towering guardian formed of condensed Dao light, its cultivation brushing the edge of Supreme Lord. Its mere presence caused cracks to spread across the floating islands.
His companion frowned. "This one's mine."
Lin Feng shook his head.
"No," he said, voice steady despite the pressure crushing his bones. "We do it together."
They moved as one.
She suppressed. He pierced.
Her Dao locked the guardian in place; his sword—guided by instinct, insight, and sheer refusal to yield—struck the core at the exact moment its circulation faltered.
The guardian froze.
Then shattered.
Silence followed.
The pressure receded.
The arena began to dissolve.
A deep, ancient voice echoed through the space:
Second Trial: Passed.
Lin Feng dropped to one knee, chest heaving. Blood traced the corner of his mouth, but his eyes were bright—burning with something new.
Growth.
His companion steadied him, her expression unreadable, but her grip was firm.
"You held," she said simply.
Inside the ring, Lao Yao exhaled—a sound like a long-held breath finally released.
"Well done, my disciple. You survived not because you were strong… but because you were ready to become stronger."
Above—far beyond the inheritance itself—
Feng Hao observed quietly.
No surprise.
No excitement.
Only a slight adjustment in interest.
"The boy didn't break," he noted.
One of the Ancient Elders nodded. "He adapted under pressure. Acceptable."
Another added, "Still far from worthy."
Feng Hao's gaze lingered on Lin Feng a moment longer than necessary.
Then he looked ahead.
"The second level is over," he said calmly.
"Let's see what the third demands."
Below, as the last fragments of the Second Level faded away, a new gate formed—older, heavier, and far more personal in its aura.
Lin Feng raised his head and looked at it.
The Third Level awaited.