"... how do you know so much?"

It didn't add up.

He knew the language. The faction politics, the games behind the rumors.

Wang Xiao shrugged. "Only visited once."

She nodded slowly, not believing him for a second.

In her heart, she'd already decided he was lying.

The further they walked, the worse her mood grew. The gossip never stopped. His shadow was everywhere.

"Since the day I was born," she muttered bitterly, lips pursed into a small pout, "there hasn't been a single year I didn't hear people talking about him."

Even here, even now.

She muttered, resentful?

"You take one step forward, thinking you're close… and then you realize he's already ten steps ahead."

Wang Xiao listened quietly.

Then, casually, he asked, "So… when are we killing him?"

Ning Xue snapped her head toward him, eyes annoyed. "How many times do I have to tell you... I don't want to kill him."

"Tsk, Boring," Wang Xiao shrugged.

She froze, was he disappointed? Annoyed? Did he really expect her to kill her own father?

Before she could dwell on it, he suddenly extended his hand toward her.

"Give me some gold."

"...What?" She stared at him warily.

He tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Right, the… uh… tuition. Yeah. That. Pay up!"

"You haven't taught me anything yet!" Ning Xue snapped, brows furrowing as heat rushed to her cheeks. Only then did she realize she'd basically agreed to this nonsense with her own mouth earlier.

She was convinced this man discovered new ways to scam her every single day.

Wang Xiao didn't even blink. Completely unbothered, and not the slightest bit ashamed of scamming his own daughter, he held out his hand.

"Girl, hand it over... The education ain't free. Aether crystals work too."

Grinding her teeth, Ning Xue tore open a spatial fold beside her and pulled out a handful of gold coins, dropping them into his palm.

Weighing the gold, Wang Xiao smiled. "Being kept by a rich woman feels pretty damn good."

"You!... Come back-!" Ning Xue felt a wave of embarrassment and turned bashful, yet before she could reclaim the money, he had already walked away without a backward glance, filled with pride.

It was all worth it!

... Moments later, he returned from a nearby street stall and tossed something toward her.

She caught it instinctively.

"…What is this?"

She stared down at the object in her hands, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

A small plushy, white bear-like creature, soft and warm, barely twice the size of her palm.

She lifted her eyes to him, expression flat and dead.

What did he think she was? A child who needed toys?

She almost threw it away, almost.

But when she looked at it again, at its stupidly round face and awkward little limbs, something softened inside her chest. She tucked it quietly into her arms, saying nothing.

She never expected this silly little thing to change her life.

Never expected it to be a hint.

A quiet, cruel hint of a future she didn't yet understand.

"Why… why do you keep staring at my abdomen?"

She tried to keep her voice steady, though a faint chill crept up her spine under his focused gaze.

Wang Xiao only shrugged, offering no explanation.

Flustered, she lifted the plush toy against her stomach, blocking his view, and more importantly, blocking his hands should they dare wander there again.

Soon... Stone streets stretched like a coiling dragon beneath their feet.

Step by step, they arrived before a nine-storied pagoda. Its eaves pierced the clouds; its bells chimed with the wind as though chanting an ancient sutra.

Below the vermilion gates gathered a modest crowd, halted by two guards clad in blazing red armor. Their faces were rugged, their gazes like drawn blades, enough to cleave the timid heart.

"Why do they all look like two-legged creatures… almost human?"

Familiar brows, familiar expressions, so familiar that Ning Xue nearly believed she still walked upon Earth. Yet the heavens above were alien, dyed in strange hues. The aether here surged like a raging tide; without control, it would tear an ordinary body to shreds.

To martial artists of Earth, this realm would be paradise.

Here, strength was law; cultivation, currency; one's realm decided one's fate.

Even those two guards excluded the faint aura of sages.

In Earth's charter, cultivation began with Warrior, advanced to Half-Step Master, then Master, mere refinement of flesh and technique, scarcely touching aether.

In the Netherworld, these three were collectively called "Mortal Practitioners", the common folk. Some could wield a blade; most served as foot soldiers beneath city banners.

When one first grasped aether, Earth named it Half-Step Grandmaster, then Grandmaster, and finally Great Grandmaster, each step like carving deeper lines upon the Dao of technique.

The Netherworld mirrored this, though in different tongues:

True Master, Grandmaster, Peak Grandmaster.

Most remained soldiers; a few became captains, minor officials. In smaller regions, a Peak Grandmaster might even govern a humble town.

When comprehension shifted from force to law, Earth spoke of Quasi-Sage; the Netherworld called it Half-Sage.

To master a law outright was to become Sage, a title shared across both realms.

Large towns and cities were ruled by such figures, their words heavier than mountains.

Beyond law lay the formation of a domain.

On Earth: Demigod

In the Netherworld: Saint

These commanded prefectures, their domains spreading like unseen skies.

Understanding the soul core gave birth to the Half-Immortal (Earth's Quasi-Immortal). With aid, they could reincarnate once.

Forge the Immortal Soul Core, and one became 'Immortal' able to reincarnate by one's own will. Provinces bowed before such beings.

Above them stood Earth's Quasi-Transcendent, known here as "Immortal Sovereign", lords who ruled kingdoms as lightly as holding a chess piece.

Within the Yin Faction's territory, this hierarchy was enforced by the Yin Faction Great Lord. All lesser kingdoms reported upward like tributary rivers returning to the sea.

The Yang Faction favored hierarchy through wars and warlords, strength seized land, and land bred bloodshed.

Their territory was a furnace of endless battle, unlike the organized calmness of Yin.

The Samsara Faction followed its own inscrutable design.

The Obsidian Faction was chaos given form, mysterious, unfathomable.

Beneath the Great Lord stood many Transcendents, also called Heavenly Lords, or lord class beings or Heavenly Dao. ("Lord" sometimes translated as "Dao.")

Some governed autonomous lands; others served as generals, helping manage the vast dominion.

Sect networks spread across the realm like roots of an ancient tree. Run by Heavenly Lords, these institutions claimed neutrality. They taught, nurtured, and shaped the populace. Though autonomous in name, none dared openly defy the Great Lord.

They stood outside official politics, yet influenced all beneath heaven.

On Earth, hierarchies were published by the Association of Guardians under Wang Xiao's sanction. Beyond Transcendence, no title yet existed.

If one must name it, Wang Xiao once thought, it would be Cosmic Monarch.

In the Netherworld, the highest living figures were, belonging to the great-lord class, often called Heavenly Sovereign Great Lords.

Above them?

Silence.

Some texts spoke of an ancient "Omniscient Paragon", a primordial existence.

Yet Wang Xiao knew, even that legend could not rival the vast shadow he had once glimpsed.

A hand that tore through laws of reality as one tears paper.

A presence beyond the scale of strength.

To measure it was like weighing the wind.

Those sky-rending hands were not a higher realm, They were beyond realms.

Beyond existence and the concept of strength itself.

"Let's go inside. Hah… look at that. Even the stairs are pretending to be mysterious."

Wang Xiao didn't wait, he grabbed Ning Xue's soft wrist and strode straight toward the entrance of the pagoda.

The crowd instinctively parted.

At the gate stood two sages of the Frost Pavillion, their red armor brimming with restrained spiritual pressure. They were both at the sages, figures worshipped within a thousand miles in such small region.

Normally, one glare from them would make a cultivator kneel.

Yet when Wang Xiao passed between them, both men froze.

They could not sense his strength.

No aether fluctuation.

No spirit resonance.

No life rhythm.

Nothing.

One of the sages swallowed. "Senior…?"

The other's palm trembled slightly. His divine sense brushed against Wang Xiao for a split second, and he instantly withdrew it, face pale.

It wasn't that there was no presence.

It was that whatever was there was so absolute… it rejected comprehension.

If a mortal stared at the sun, they'd go blind.

Even though Wang Xiao's presence was carefully cloaked, lest everyone here be crushed to death by the sheer weight of it, the aura radiating from Ning Xue was completely unrestrained, instantly rendering the two sages silent.

She walked calmly beside Wang Xiao, her light green robes flowing like a gentle breeze sweeping across a lush forest.

The two sages bowed deeply.

An Immortal!

A true Immortal had stepped into their backwater city of Frostfall City, what in the Nine Heavens was happening?

Frostfall Pagoda.

The Frostfall Pagoda, ancestral treasure of the Frostfall City Lord Manor, stood like a black-gold spear piercing the heavens. Carved into its pillars were ancient inscriptions of the Snow Moon Ancestor, founder of the country.

Once every year, the bottom floor opened.

The "Stairs to Heaven."

It tested bone aptitude, soul resonance, spirit compatibility.

Wang Xiao stepped inside, looking up.

The interior was absurd.

A boundless chamber with a staircase spiraling upward endlessly, vanishing into mist. Lanterns made of fire crystal floated midair, casting pale blue light.

Already climbing were several familiar figures.

Lukas stood on the seventeenth step, teeth grinding as whirlpools of wind coiled beneath his feet, violently pushing him upward with every breath he took.

Aisha a few steps below him, hesitating. Her brows furrowed as she debated whether to advance further.

She wasn't exactly a superhuman like Lukas, who possessed the strength of a Half-Sage, nor like Helena, who had just passed her with the strength of a Peak Grandmaster.

Comparatively, Aisha could only sense and manipulate aether. At best, that placed her at the peak of a Mortal Practitioner, perhaps a True Master on a generous day.

The pressure of the Stairs to Heaven pressed against her shoulders like an invisible mountain.

"Damn it… is this some kind of entrance exam?" she muttered softly. "Why does this thing feel like it's judging my entire life?"

Below, at the base of the staircase, Yuriko stood without moving. Her gaze was sharp, distant, uninterested.

She made no attempt to climb.

As an Immortal Sovereign (Quasi-Transcendent) her aura was difficult to perceive, much like Wang Xiao's. Yet unlike him, there was something cold in her eyes that made others instinctively keep their distance.

It felt like standing before an impenetrable mist that swallowed sound and light alike.

No one dared approach her nonetheless.

Meanwhile, the same could not be said about Athlaea.

Barefoot and utterly casual, she was already at the thirty-fourth step. She walked past everyone on the staircase as if she were strolling through a marketplace, her steps light, unbothered.

Each time her foot landed, the immortal pressure around her dispersed like mist, but the backlash crushed everyone nearby.

"She's… she's not even using spiritual energy, no aether circulation at all!"

"Is she human?!"

A so-called genius of Frostfall City, ranked third among the younger generation, nearly lost his balance when she passed him.

The distortion in the air around her disrupted his footing.

"W–Wait! Control your aura-!"

He slipped, and screamed.

Athlaea stopped, she glanced down at him, her expression sharp and mildly annoyed.

"Loud."

Before anyone could react, she casually swung her leg, a single kick! The impact distorted space itself. The genius was blasted backward across the staircase. His body ruptured midair... Turning into a cloud of blood mist.

Scarlet droplets splattered across the pale stone steps.

Silence!

The wind whirlpools beneath Lukas faltered.

Aisha's pupils shrank.

Even Helena paused mid-step.

Athlaea withdrew her foot and dusted it lightly against the stone.

"Oops... Slippery stairs," she muttered. "They should clean better."

No one dared to argue!