Chapter 262: Jun Xiaoyao

Hearing the little fairy's words, the group all broke out in cold sweat.

This Holy Maiden of the Demon Fairy Sect really says anything without restraint.

But the little fairy's nature has always been like this—though she looks pure and lovely, she carries a seductive charm.

She speaks without any inhibitions, entirely different from Jiang Luoli.

Jiang Luoli didn't understand what "good performance" and "positions" meant.

But seeing the little fairy's seductive yet innocent face, she knew these were definitely not proper words.

She spat lightly and said, "You wicked witch, what are you saying to disturb Xiao Yao Brother?"

"Jiang Luoli, are you pretending not to understand?" The little fairy laughed without restraint.

"You… hmph, don't you dare do anything to Xiao Yao Brother!" Jiang Luoli puffed up, her cheeks flushed red.

The little fairy's peculiar "knowledge" was a complete blank to her.

"No way, no way—you're so close to Xiao Yao Brother, you really haven't… done it with him?"

The little fairy feigned shock, speaking in a mocking tone.

"You…" Even if Jiang Luoli didn't understand, she now grasped the meaning of those words.

Her face turned as red as an apple, yet she couldn't utter a single word.

Jun Xiaoyao's expression remained calm—this little demoness drove harder than he did.

But looking at the little fairy's slender frame, she was no match for Jiang Luoli.

"Sorry, not interested," Jun Xiaoyao continued climbing with Jiang Luoli and the others.

"Xiao Yao Brother, I know you're the Primal Ancient Holy Body, brimming with vitality—Jiang Luoli can't satisfy you. I can serve you well too."

The little fairy spoke without restraint, her words luring, trying to sway Jun Xiaoyao.

Even Jun Xiaoyao was left speechless.

He admitted—he was the Primal Ancient Holy Body, and his Kidney Divine Treasury was exceptionally strong.

But was he that kind of man?

Was he? Was he?

Jun Xiaoyao ignored her.

Watching their receding figures climbing higher, the little fairy stamped her foot in frustration.

"Better rely on yourself than on trickery," Ji Qingyi said calmly, silently climbing all along.

"Oh yes, White Lotus Miss, you're the purest of all," the little fairy sneered.

Ji Qingyi shook her head and paid no attention.

She understood this opponent's nature well, so she refused to engage in verbal sparring.

Wang Chuan's heart could not remain calm—Jun Xiaoyao's performance had shattered his understanding of prodigies.

One could say that if Jun Xiaoyao had lived in his era, he would have been the most brilliant prodigy, without exception.

But Wang Chuan, after all, was an ancient anomaly of the Reincarnation Demon Sect, his temperament far beyond men like Li Daoxuan.

Soon, he adjusted his state and began climbing silently.

For a time, the Spirit Altar saw no disturbances.

Now, those who could still hold their ground on the altar were extremely few.

Those prodigies either went mad and died, or remained frozen in place, unable to advance further.

Jun Xiaoyao remained far ahead.

Not only that—he carried Jiang Luoli, Yi Yu, and Yan Qingying with him.

Effectively, Jun Xiaoyao bore the pressure of four people.

Then came Ji Qingyi, Wang Chuan, the little fairy, and others.

Finally, a scattered few prodigies still struggled onward.

And the higher they climbed, the stronger the pressure became.

Naturally, the mysterious Dao resonance grew ever denser.

Finally, when they reached around eight hundred steps, Yan Qingying spoke first.

"Master, Qingying can go no further."

Yan Qingying's already pale cheeks now bore a tinge of whiteness.

Clearly, she had reached her limit.

Though Yan Qingying was the heir of the Devouring Spirit Demon Art and had devoured the essence of celestial prodigies from the Immortal Realm, she was still a prodigy from the Lower Realm, with too little time to grow and insufficient foundation.

In truth, with her own strength, reaching six hundred steps would have been impressive enough.

Now reaching eight hundred steps was only possible thanks to Jun Xiaoyao's protection.

"Very well, stay here and meditate deeply," Jun Xiaoyao nodded slightly, not forcing her.

Overdoing it would harm her cultivation—forcing her further would do more harm than good.

Yan Qingying nodded, took out the Dark Immortal Seed, and began refining and contemplating it.

She had confidence she could break through on the Spirit Altar.

Then, around nine hundred and fifty steps, Jiang Luoli and Yi Yu also stopped.

They could not advance further.

Jun Xiaoyao likewise did not press them, beginning to climb alone.

Above nine hundred and fifty steps, each step doubled the pressure.

Moreover, the ancient spirits manifested in the void began to launch attacks.

A spirit shaped like a firebird opened its mouth, spewing crimson flames.

A creature resembling a centipede surged from the void.

An ancient hero hurled a piercing divine spear toward Jun Xiaoyao.

These spirits were all beings who had perished on the Spirit Altar.

They envied Jun Xiaoyao and sought to block his ascent.

Jun Xiaoyao merely smashed them all away with a single palm—golden palm prints crushed everything before him.

All spirits shattered before him.

Ji Qingyi and the little fairy ultimately stopped around nine hundred and fifty steps.

Only Wang Chuan continued climbing.

Behind him, the Sixfold Reincarnation Disc spun, his Reincarnation Holy Body's power pushed to its utmost.

He refused to accept defeat—he was an ancient anomaly, unwilling to be outshone by contemporary prodigies.

But the final dozens of steps carried a pressure so terrifying, it was unbearable.

At this point, even the ancient anomaly Wang Chuan could only inch upward step by step.

Eventually, Wang Chuan halted at around nine hundred and seventy steps, unable to take another step.

To be honest, this performance was already exceptional.

Throughout history, among prodigies entering the Ten Realms Rift, fewer than one percent had reached above eight hundred steps.

Those who reached nine hundred steps were fewer than one in a thousand.

Watching Jun Xiaoyao, still walking without pause, Wang Chuan finally lowered his head.

He had lost again to Jun Xiaoyao.

In strength, willpower, or talent—he was inferior to Jun Xiaoyao.

Even if restored to peak condition, he doubted he could change this fact.

"Could he… reach the summit of the Spirit Altar?" Wang Chuan's pupils trembled.

The summit of the Spirit Altar was an almost inaccessible forbidden zone.

And he knew one thing:

To carve his own path, one must reach the summit of the altar.

Only atop the Spirit Altar could Jun Xiaoyao gain the full blessing of the Lower Realm's Ten Lands' fortune.

Combined with the aid of the Ten Realms' primordial source.

Only then might Jun Xiaoyao have even a sliver of chance to forge a path never before tread.

"Jun Xiaoyao has such ambition," Wang Chuan breathed deeply.

He could not imagine—Jun Xiaoyao, already a monstrous prodigy with overwhelming strength.

If he carved his own path, how brilliant would his future become?

Even attaining Emperorhood would not be Jun Xiaoyao's final destination!