Chereads / INFINITE IMMORTAL PATH / Chapter 29 - Chapter 29: The Ascent

Chapter 29 - Chapter 29: The Ascent

The morning sun hung low, casting a golden hue over the gathering at the base of White Crane Mountain. Hundreds of aspiring cultivators clustered together, gazing up at the towering steps ahead, their height hidden by mist, stretching into the heavens. Anticipation hummed in the air, and a low murmur spread through the crowd.

A flurry of feathers cut through the mist, drawing every gaze upward. Descending on a colossal, white-feathered crane was the Examiner, his bearing cold and distant. With a curt motion, he dismounted, not sparing the crowd even a glance as he assessed the terrain. He radiated a proud indifference, his eyes flicking over the group as though they were an inconvenience.

With a single wave of his hand, he signaled to the assistants, who approached each hopeful with a brown sack. As each cultivator took one, they realized it was no mere bag but a significant weight, each as heavy as an average man.

The Examiner's gaze swept over them, his expression unreadable, until he addressed them in a dispassionate tone. "Your task is simple. Climb the mountain to the White Crane Sect's outer gates. If any of you find this too challenging," his eyes narrowed, "you're free to turn back now."

Several participants exchanged glances, gripping their sacks with renewed determination. The Examiner allowed a small, haughty smirk to emerge as he looked over the group, his distaste barely hidden.

"One final thing," he added in a clipped tone. "Make it to the gates before sundown." He paused, scanning their faces. "Or don't make it at all."

With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he gestured toward the massive steps sprawling before them. Without another word, he turned, mounted his crane, and ascended high above them, content to observe their struggles from a distance.

The crowd pushed forward, each participant gripping their sack and stepping onto the stairs. They soon discovered that these were no ordinary step, each was broad and deep, large enough to hold a dozen people at a time. As they climbed, they noticed a faint yet steady increase in pressure with every ten steps, a silent force pushing down on their bodies, testing their endurance.

By the twentieth step, many struggled, exchanging nervous glances. A stocky youth grunted as he shifted the sack on his shoulders, adjusting his grip. "Must be the altitude," he muttered to the person beside him, trying to laugh off the strain. But by the fortieth step, he stopped laughing, a scowl settling on his face as he trudged forward.

At the fiftieth step, a wiry figure stumbled to the side, dropping his sack, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. "No… this can't be," he whispered in disbelief, his legs shaking under the pressure. Unable to continue, he slumped to the side, yielding to exhaustion.

Others pressed on, though it was clear the climb was becoming a test of will as much as strength. Some cast glances back at those who had already surrendered, taking their departure as a reminder of the stakes. The mountain loomed ahead, veiled in mist, offering no hint of its end.

Around the eightieth step, the pressure became a tangible, unyielding force pressing on each cultivator's shoulders, chest, and legs. Some slowed, adjusting their stances to compensate for the burden, but the relentless weight wore down even the most resilient among them. A young woman with dark, focused eyes gritted her teeth, taking slow, steady steps, her jaw set in determination.

Among the climbers, one figure moved with quiet efficiency. Dressed in dark robes, a mask covering his face, he blended in with the shadows cast by the mountain's sheer cliffs. Yet his eyes—distinctive and sharp, a piercing shade of blue barely noticeable beneath his mask—glowed faintly in the dim morning light. He adjusted his pace without hesitation, his movements precise and calm, conserving his energy for the grueling climb.

As they neared the hundredth step, a distinct shift occurred; the gravity intensified to the point that many cultivators instinctively tapped into their Qi, unable to rely on physical strength alone. The air crackled faintly as several among them summoned their energy reserves, their bodies surrounded by a faint glow as they fortified themselves for the path ahead.

"Is it… getting heavier?" a young man muttered to his neighbor, eyes wide with panic as he struggled to stabilize his Qi, nearly toppling over in the process. His control faltered momentarily, and he stumbled, clutching his sack desperately to keep his balance.

A few participants made the mistake of expending their Qi too suddenly, finding themselves quickly drained. One young man's aura flickered, and with a gasp, he collapsed to the side, his face pale as he struggled to catch his breath. Others continued upward, casting wary glances at those who faltered, each misstep a reminder of their own fragility.

High above, the Examiner observed them with cold detachment, seated atop his crane as he watched the ascent. His expression, though dispassionate, hinted at faint amusement as he noted the struggle. His gaze lingered on the masked figure in black as he continued upward with unyielding focus, his pace unwavering. The Examiner's eyes narrowed slightly, and he murmured to himself, "Interesting."

Below, on the hundredth step, the pressure had intensified to a degree that sifted the contenders, separating those with real promise from those barely holding on. Some cultivators grunted under the weight, their faces twisted in determination, while others fell back, their breaths ragged, Qi reserves dwindling fast.

Each step seemed to stretch endlessly before them, and with every ten steps, another layer of pressure descended upon them, compressing their chests, testing their endurance. Several cultivators paused mid-ascent, their faces pale as they felt the crushing weight.

"Would this ever end ?" one muttered, sweat dripping down his brow.

Yet the dark figure pressed forward, his movements controlled, his blue eyes barely visible beneath the mask. Around him, the other participants struggled, some collapsing in exhaustion, others clinging to the steps with a look of sheer determination. He moved silently, his gaze focused, his pace unhurried yet with rhythm, conserving his energy for the trial still ahead.

By midday, a handful had faltered, slumping to the side, their bodies unable to endure the unrelenting pressure any longer. A few more collapsed after attempting to force their Qi too quickly, misjudging their reserves and leaving themselves defenseless against the unrelenting weight. Among those remaining, only the strong-willed and the well-trained endured, drawing deeply on their reserves.

Far above, the Examiner sat upon his crane, his gaze tracking each participant's progress. He muttered under his breath, with a hint of curiosity as he watched the masked figure who climbed without faltering. His gaze lingered on a few others who showed similar promise, those whose Qi flickered with steady control as they withstood the trial.

By now, the sun was nearing its zenith, the shadows lengthening as the mountain cast its vast presence over the valley below. For those climbing, each step was a battle, each pause a gamble as they measured their strength against the looming path. The mountain was unmoved by their struggles, its steps a silent, impartial judge of their worth.

The Examiner continued to watch, his expression unreadable but for a faint smirk as he observed those few who seemed to rise above the rest, pushing onward toward the summit with grit and quiet resolve.