The War of the Gods in the Great Void God King

Tormented by excruciating pain, Jiang Fan's strength was completely exhausted, and he was utterly fatigued.

The extreme exhaustion left him unable to stand upright, but his unwavering will to survive and seek the truth kept him from collapsing.

Jiang Fan bent down, gripped the cold, rough stone steps tightly with both hands, and dug his fingers into the cracks in the stone. Using both hands and feet, he moved upwards inch by inch.

The rough steps wore down his palms and knees, the skin and flesh turned inside out, blood gushing out and staining the stone steps red, a shocking sight.

His clothes were completely soaked with sweat and blood, clinging tightly to Jiang Fan's body, making him look extremely disheveled.

Amidst the sea of ​​clouds, the mountain wind is biting.

A distant sigh drifted down from the mountaintop, piercing through the clouds: "A child's heart is steadfast, yet the Great Dao is merciless; with mediocre talent, it is all in vain..."

A middle-aged cultivator dressed in plain robes stepped through the air, his gaze sweeping over the teenagers who were on the verge of their limits, his eyes filled with indifference and sighs.

He slowly walked to Jiang Fan's side, and looking at the bloodied and mangled body that was still writhing, he was shocked.

Such a tragic situation would have broken even many geniuses.

He leaned down slightly and asked softly, "Child, what's your name?"

At this moment, Jiang Fan's mind was already blurred, his five senses were all lost, and only the words "reach the summit" remained in his mind.

He was completely cut off from all outside sounds, and he just stared intently at the stone steps above, mechanically and stubbornly climbing upwards.

The middle-aged elder gazed into his dim yet stubborn eyes, his heart filled with emotion, and gently stroked the top of his head to examine his bones.

After a moment, he shook his head slightly and muttered to himself, "His resolve is truly rare. It's a pity his talent is mediocre and his aptitude ordinary; he'll find it difficult to embark on the path of cultivation. What a pity..."

After saying this, he took a deep look at the winding trail of blood, then turned and left.

Night fell, and the stars and moon were obscured.

The mountain wind at night tore at Jiang Fan's mangled body like a knife; his flesh was covered in sores and his breath was weak.

For three whole days, he worked tirelessly, grinding his flesh and blood against the steps, relying on his unwavering will to resist the heavenly ladder.

All of these actions stemmed from the stubbornness in his heart that refused to accept his fate.

At dawn on the third day, sunlight pierced through the sea of ​​clouds. In a daze, Jiang Fan finally saw the faint light at the end; he was only a few feet away from reaching the summit.

Just as he was about to sprint with his last ounce of strength, a cold and ruthless booming voice suddenly rang out:

"The three-day deadline has passed. Only three people have passed this Ascension to Heaven! The rest have all failed!"

The cold verdict shattered his last hope in an instant.

They were just a stone's throw away from reaching the summit, but now all their efforts have been in vain.

Endless despair and bitterness instantly overwhelmed Jiang Fan, and his mind, which had been taut for three days, suddenly snapped.

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. All the strength drained from his body, and he collapsed straight into a pool of blood, completely unconscious.

At the summit, the black-clad steward stood with his hands behind his back, looking down with surprise at the unconscious Jiang Fan below.

Before long, several disciples hurried down the mountain and came to the aid of the unconscious boys.

A female disciple in grey stood beside the deacon and reported in a clear voice:

"Senior brother, there were thirty-two people in the preliminary test. Ten were eliminated by the inner demons, and eight gave up on the Heavenly Ascension Staircase. In the end, only three people reached the top, and the remaining eleven survivors who did not meet the requirements."

She was well aware of the harshness of this assessment.

If she hadn't practiced martial arts since childhood, she would have barely passed the test and become a nominal disciple through sheer perseverance. However, after ten years of arduous training, she still hasn't become a formal disciple.

The black-clad deacon's expression was icy. He nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the ten surviving but unqualified individuals below. "The three qualified ones," he said, "take them to the miscellaneous goods area to register and arrange their future work. The other 18 who gave up or failed to meet the requirements, send them back to their respective families..."

He paused, his gaze falling on Jiang Fan, a barely perceptible flicker in his eyes.

After a moment of contemplation, he slowly spoke: "Among them, Jiang Fan, although he did not reach the summit, has been climbing the Heavenly Stairs day and night for the past three days, his willpower is unprecedented."

"I will make an exception and accept you as a disciple under my name."

"Yes!" The gray-robed female disciple accepted the order, her gaze towards Jiang Fan now filled with a complex sense of respect.

Not long after, Jiang Fan woke up from his coma. When he learned that he had been selected as a disciple, he instantly felt that all his efforts had been worthwhile.

At this moment, the black-clad steward flicked his sleeve and spoke calmly: "Now that the dust has settled, let's announce the sect's rules as usual, so that these newcomers know what cultivation is."

The gray-robed female disciple bowed slightly and said in a clear voice, "Yes."

She turned to the chosen youths and said, "The path of cultivation is clearly divided into realms, from low to high: Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, and even the legendary Divine Transformation realm."

"Currently, the most powerful cultivator in our sect is Elder Wang, who has been in seclusion for many years. He has been stuck at the Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment for many years and is seeking an opportunity to break through to the Core Formation stage."

"You must remember that the sect's resources are limited. Without great perseverance and great opportunities, you will spend your whole life as a spectator outside the threshold of Qi Refining."

These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over their heads, making the teenagers, who were already on the verge of collapse, even more desperate.

……

After successfully entering the Taoist sect in Tianyuan City, Jiang Fan was not assigned to the disciples' residences where spiritual energy was abundant, but was instead taken to the back mountain.

A shifty-eyed young man in yellow robes, with a mocking expression, sized him up and sneered, "So you're Jiang Fan, the one who became a disciple after fainting on the Heavenly Ascension Steps?"

Jiang Fan glanced at him and remained silent.

The young man raised an eyebrow and sneered, "Kid, starting tomorrow, come report to me as soon as the sun rises. Your job is mining."

This is also the consistent method used by Taoist sects to treat their nominal disciples—those without spiritual roots can only do the most menial menial tasks, spending their remaining years in labor, or by sheer luck on the edge of life and death, walking a path of mortal life.

"If you don't mine a thousand catties of ore, you won't have any food. If you can't do it for seven consecutive days, I will report to the elders and have you expelled from the sect. Here are your clothes. Remember, registered disciples can only wear gray clothes. Only when you become a true disciple will you be given clothes of other colors." After saying that, the yellow-robed disciple impatiently threw a set of gray clothes and a waist tag aside.

The young man said casually, "You'll naturally see a row of flat houses next to the mine in the back mountain."

Jiang Fan turned and walked towards the row of flat houses for the registered disciples next to the mine.

Walking along the back mountain, Jiang Fan saw that most of the disciples were dressed in gray, walking in a hurry, with indifferent expressions. Some of them were even carrying shovels and looked exhausted.

Jiang Fan followed the directions to the mine. After handing his waist token to the yellow-robed disciple in charge of the area, the disciple impatiently pointed to a house.

Jiang Fan entered the house, chose an unused wooden bed, put his bundle away, and then lay down on the bed, lost in thought.

Although he had entered this sect, it wasn't as he had imagined that he could start cultivating immediately. According to what the young man had said, his job was mining.

Not long after, night fell, and a thin, gray-clad boy with a weary expression pushed open the door and walked in. He was startled when he saw Jiang Fan, looked him over carefully, and then ignored him and lay down on the bed.

Jiang Fan didn't mind. He knew he had to get up early tomorrow. He patted his stomach and took out a steamed bun from his bag. These foods were prepared for him by Liu Ruxue.

Although the steamed buns were simple, they were very sweet and enough to fill one's stomach.

Jiang Fan took a few bites. At that moment, the boy lying opposite him stirred, sat up, stared intently at the steamed bun, swallowed hard, and said to Jiang Fan, "Can I have one?"