Chapter 109: The Polar Spirit Trails

Glares of hate, sharp and unrelenting, centered on Jiang Feng and Ji Moran as the top experts of the various factions fixed their gazes upon them. The weight of their animosity was palpable, a suffocating pressure that seemed to press down from all sides. Ji Moran swallowed heavily, her throat dry as she sensed the overwhelming auras radiating from the cultivators around her.

These were individuals who either teetered on the edge of the Golden Core Realm or had already ascended into its profound depths. It was common knowledge that the Golden Core Realm was a monumental divide—a threshold that brought one closer to the Heavenly Dao, granting immense strength and an abundance of spiritual energy. Those who stood within its ranks were no longer mere mortals; they were beings touched by the heavens themselves.

Jiang Feng observed the scene with a calm exterior, though his mind raced. The auras of the others were staggering, a testament to their cultivation and the years—or perhaps decades—they had spent honing their power. He knew that facing any of them in combat would be a grueling ordeal. "I've spent more time in here fighting than cultivating," he thought, his inner voice steady despite the tension. "But this is acceptable. With a strong foundation, refined techniques, and combat experience, my bloodline allows me to devour resources at an unparalleled rate. I'll catch up soon enough."

Chen Yutian, the number one expert from Silver Sword City, stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. As the son of the Sword Emperor and the heir to his legacy, Chen Yutian was a figure of immense respect and fear. His focus had always been on the sword, his devotion to the blade absolute. Yet, even he could not ignore the tension in the air. Though he remained silent, his presence was a silent reminder of the authority he wielded. He listened to Shen Long's narration with a detached calm, but his sharp eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. He would not stand idly by if his people were threatened.

Zhan Huito, the leader of Mist Ridge City's party, clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His eyes burned with a fiery intensity as he surveyed the casualties among his people. The loss was personal, a wound that cut deep into his pride and loyalty. "If I don't kill you," he thought, his mind seething with rage, "I won't be able to face my master." The only thing restraining him was the mountain-like spiritual energy that bound them all, a force so immense that even his fury could not break through.

Gao Zhenlie, however, wore the most volatile expression of them all. The members of Thunderclap City had suffered the heaviest losses, with more than half of their number perishing. His rage was a living thing, crackling around him like a storm. Thunder roared in his veins, and the air around him twisted and sizzled with raw energy. "You're dead!" he shouted, his voice a guttural growl that echoed across the area. His mind was a tempest, a chaotic whirlwind of grief and fury that threatened to consume him.

As the cultivators prepared for battle, the two spirits spoke again, their voices resonating with an otherworldly timbre that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard them. "The flames are not the only prize," they declared, their words carrying the weight of ancient time. "Each challenge holds a reward for those who pass. After each trial, there will be a period of rest. The ultimate victor will gain the favor of the heavens. But beware—the path is fraught with danger, and not all who enter will leave alive. Once the trial is over, this realm will fade."

With that, the spirits vanished, leaving behind a silence so profound it felt like the world itself was holding its breath. The cultivators exchanged wary glances, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear, determination, and simmering hatred. The battleground before them was a treacherous landscape, filled with traps designed to test their limits—pits of fire that burned with unnatural heat, fields of ice that sapped warmth and strength, and illusions that twisted perception and preyed on the mind. The stakes had never been higher.

Jiang Feng took a deep breath, his grip on Ji Moran's hand tightening. He could feel the tension in her fingers, the slight tremble that betrayed her fear. He knew this was no ordinary trial. The spirits were testing them, pushing them to their absolute limits, even if it meant death. That much was evident. But he also saw this as an opportunity—a chance to prove himself, to rise above the chaos and claim the flames that could change his and her destiny.

"I won't drag you down," Ji Moran said softly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She knew her own potential, and she knew Jiang Feng's. But potential meant nothing if they didn't survive. "Even if I have to die, I won't let you fall because of me."

Jiang Feng turned to her, his expression softening for a moment. "You don't have to worry too much about it," he replied, his voice calm and reassuring. "What will come must come. We'll face it together." He wasn't afraid of any junior, no matter how strong they were. He still had the Concept of Darkness, a power he had yet to fully explore, and the Titan Ascendance Art, a technique that promised untold strength if he could unlock its secrets. He would find the opportunity to delve into both, but for now, survival was the priority.

"Okay," Ji Moran nodded, her resolve firming. She didn't know why, but standing beside Jiang Feng made her feel secure, as if his presence alone could shield her from the dangers ahead. That one month of training after he had saved her had been the best time of her life.

She had slept under the stars, trained until her body ached, feasted on the meat of wild beasts, and watched Jiang Feng forge weapons with a skill that bordered on artistry. Now, they stood on the precipice of a battle that would push their combat potential and mental fortitude to the absolute limit.

"Let's move," Jiang Feng said, his voice firm and resolute. "We'll face whatever comes together." As they stepped forward, the battleground seemed to come alive, the air crackling with energy as the fight for survival—and supremacy—began.

The glowing gates trembled, their light intensifying until it was almost blinding. In an instant, the juniors were pulled into the battleground, their bodies feeling as light and insubstantial as paper. It was as if the realm itself had taken hold of them, manipulating their forms with ease. In the blink of an eye, Jiang Feng found himself standing in a new environment, still holding Ji Moran's hand. He released a sigh of relief, grateful that they hadn't been separated. If this trial was anything like the Obsidian Waterfall Gate, where individuals were scattered randomly, their chances of survival would have plummeted.

"It appears that numbers don't matter here," Jiang Feng commented, his eyes scanning their surroundings. "They could make the challenges easier or harder, depending on how the realm decides to test us."

"Possibly," Ji Moran agreed, her analytical mind already at work. "But we might have an advantage. Those from Mist Ridge, Verdant Sky, and Obsidian Lake all practice some form of water, ice, or poison techniques. We practice ice and fire. These flames seem to embody those elements. If we can harness their power, we might stand a chance."

Jiang Feng nodded in agreement, his thoughts turning to Danue Ge, who wielded the formidable Water Prison Pearl. He hadn't even seen the full extent of what the strongest among them could do. The two of them stood in what appeared to be a chamber, its walls made of interconnected glass that shimmered like ice. The surface was smooth, almost liquid in its appearance, with flowing lines that crisscrossed into intricate patterns. Snowflakes, white trees, snowdrops, and shards of ice were etched into the walls, each design radiating a freezing temperature that seeped into the very air.

The patterns were not merely decorative; they were profound, each line a manifestation of the natural laws of heaven and earth. This chamber was not just a test of strength or endurance—it was a trial of comprehension. The lines on the walls represented the Dao of Deepfrost, a path of ice that required not only physical resilience but also a deep understanding of the element's essence. To succeed here, one would need to grasp the intricate interplay of energy and form, to see beyond the surface and into the heart of the ice itself.

Jiang Feng and Ji Moran's eyes narrowed as he studied the patterns, his mind already working to decipher their meaning. This was no ordinary challenge. It was a test of insight, a demand to align oneself with the natural order of the world. The Dao of Deepfrost was not merely about cold or hardness; it was about stillness, clarity, and the unyielding nature of ice that could both preserve and destroy. To comprehend it was to touch the very fabric of the universe.

Ji Moran stood beside him, her breath visible in the frigid air as she began to analyze the patterns. The two of them were silent, their minds focused on the task at hand. The chamber was a puzzle, a riddle written in the language of the heavens. And they would solve it—together. As they studied the walls, the temperature began to fall, causing ice to for on their bodies as the true life and death test officially began.

*** this chapter is dedicated to

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