"My name is Chang Cheng. I'll be presiding over the examination at this year's Winter Immortal Conference," said the middle-aged man from the Dao Seeking Sect.
He waved his hand, and a massive circular staircase with 108 steps rose from the ground, forming in the center of the plaza just a few meters from the Dao Seeking Sect's gates. The white marble that shaped the staircase pulsed with spiritual energy, and even from dozens of meters away, Fang Mo could feel its power radiating outward.
"This is the Immortal Root Staircase. Instead of measuring one's immortal spiritual roots using the usual method, we'll be using this. The Immortal Root Staircase is capable of measuring both talent and willpower," Chang Cheng said, looking at the eyes filled with admiration from the participants with a faint smile. "Please step forward a thousand at a time. Don't worry about hurting yourselves, our disciples will be assisting as examiners alongside me, making sure no one dies. Before ascending the Immortal Root Staircase, get a token from one of the examiners outside the plaza."
Fang Mo looked around and saw dozens of people wearing white robes with the Dao Seeking Sect's symbol—a black staircase—emblazoned on their chests.
"With this, I announce the beginning of the Winter Immortal Conference!" Chang Cheng declared before disappearing.
The people from the Dao Seeking Sect weren't the only ones present. Inside the Dao Seeking Sect, Fang Mo saw dozens of elders and young cultivators in various robes, observing silently. Near the Dao Seeking Sect's examiners, hundreds of participants were already lining up to register and receive their tokens.
Despite the overwhelming number of people, the process was surprisingly efficient. Each minute, more than a thousand participants were registered. Fang Mo joined one of the queues to receive his token. To his surprise, the person handing out the tokens was someone he recognized.
"You!" Qian Fan stared wide-eyed at Fang Mo. "What are you doing here? Don't you only have mortal spiritual roots?"
Her words drew the attention of those nearby, a few of whom chuckled at Fang Mo. Many people who had already tested their spiritual roots and received poor results still came to try their luck. At best, people like that ended up as servant disciples in Mortal or Earth-ranked sects. Powerful sects like the Dao Seeking Sect wouldn't even accept servant disciples without immortal spiritual roots.
Fang Mo's expression darkened as he stared back at Qian Fan. "What does my presence here have to do with you? My name is Fang Mo, and I came here as an attendant. Get me a token."
Qian Fan's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She knew she had spoken out of turn. "I'm sorry," she said, bowing toward Fang Mo before retrieving a token and registering his name. "Here is your token."
With the registration complete and the token in hand, Fang Mo walked away. Printed on the token were the words: Attendant 26500.
Twenty minutes later, once everyone had finished registering, a few disciples from the Dao Seeking Sect moved closer to the Immortal Root Staircase. One of them spoke aloud, "Please come forward to take your test. Results will be registered automatically on your token."
Fang Mo decided to wait and observe. He knew he would most likely receive poor results due to his spiritual roots, so there was no need to rush.
Unlike him, those who had come were filled with a mix of determination and nervousness. As soon as the Dao Seeking Sect disciple gave the signal, most participants stepped forward and began forming a long line to ascend the staircase.
The first thousand took their place and began the trial. Most barely reached the third step before coughing up blood and collapsing, only to be caught by an examiner before hitting the ground.
"So this is the famous Immortal Root Staircase of the Dao Seeking Sect," a person near Fang Mo said as he watched the participants struggle. "I've heard that those with mortal spiritual roots can't go beyond the seventh step, and only those with supreme mutated immortal spiritual roots can reach the top. In the last hundred years, only Xu Yan from the Yun Han Empire managed to step on all 108 steps and was directly accepted as a disciple of the sect master."
Xu Yan… the princess from the Yun Han Empire? Fang Mo recalled the beautiful woman he had seen just after testing his spiritual roots. Despite having barely interacted with her, he had to admit she was blessed by the heavens, possessing both talent and beauty far above her peers.
A self-mocking smile tugged at his lips. Unlike me, who can't even cultivate properly.
Fang Mo shook his head, dispersing the useless thoughts. Before long, it was finally his turn. He glanced at Qian Fan as he stepped closer to the Immortal Root Staircase. She was the disciple responsible for ensuring he wouldn't die while ascending the staircase.
Qian Fan stared at him absentmindedly. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could form any words, Fang Mo stepped onto the stairs.
A heavy, but manageable, pressure descended on his body. He took a deep breath and circulated his cultivation technique to alleviate it, but it was of no use. So cultivation level won't make any difference here.
Fang Mo stepped onto the second step without much difficulty, but the moment his foot touched it, the pressure on his body increased by fifty percent. He now understood why most people collapsed by the third step.
He clenched his fist and took the third step, causing the pressure to rise again by another fifty percent. His body screamed in pain, and blood surged up his throat. With the most common type of spiritual roots, this was as far as he should have been able to go.
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Without hesitation, he clenched his jaw and swallowed it. Ignoring the pain, he stepped onto the fourth step. Once again, the pressure intensified—another fifty percent increase.
When Fang Mo took the fifth step, his blood churned violently. After breaking through to the first level of the Opening Meridian Stage, his understanding of his own body had improved by a few degrees. Right now, that same body screamed at him to stop—to give in and let the pressure bring him down.
But he couldn't allow that. This wasn't a battle against others, but against himself. Two weeks ago, he had already defied common sense by cultivating despite having mortal spiritual roots. Today, he would break his own limits once again and enter an immortal sect.
The sixth step. Fang Mo heard a sharp crack from within his body; his bones could no longer endure the strain.
Blood poured from his seven orifices. His joints cracked, forcing him to his knees. His vision blurred. This was the known limit for those with mortal spiritual roots.
"Not yet," Fang Mo whispered to no one but himself, his voice hoarse. His vocal cords had cracked under the pressure. He wanted to take the eighth step, to go beyond the limits of his birth, but his legs were too damaged to move.
Not yet, he thought as he gripped the edge of the eighth step. If his legs couldn't carry him, then he would crawl. The bones in his hands cracked on contact with the stairs. His muscles shredded under the force. Strength drained from his body.
I need to enter the best sect I can.
Fang Mo bit down on the step and used his elbows to drag himself forward. Centimeter by centimeter, he moved his legs until his entire body rested upon the eighth step.
A second later, he lost consciousness. Before his body could tumble down the staircase, Qian Fan caught him in her arms.
***
A man with a youthful appearance but long white hair stood silently, watching the participants ascend the Immortal Root Staircase.
"Elder Qi, did anyone catch your interest?" asked a young man with short black hair and handsome features, looking at him with admiration. "There have been many promising talents over the last couple of years. I even heard someone with mutated supreme immortal spiritual roots appeared in the Dao Seeking Sect last year."
Elder Qi smiled, his gaze fixed on Fang Mo, who lay unconscious in Qian Fan's arms. "You're right, Ding Zixin. There are many incredible talents to choose from," he said calmly. "But I think I've just found someone interesting."
Ding Zixin laughed. "How many steps did the person who caught your eye take? 90? You've been the Grand Elder of our Nine Lives Sect for five centuries and have never accepted a personal disciple. I'm dying to know who finally managed to impress you, Elder Qi."
The smile on Elder Qi's lips widened. "Only eight."