Chapter 310: The Hundredth Step

He looked at the back briefly. The middle-aged man was watching closely. Many other participants looked shocked — yes. But there was nothing out of the ordinary expression. So everything was going on as it was supposed to.

Heart pounding, Seika looked ahead and continued.

Forty-four.

Forty-eight.

Fifty.

The moment he crossed fifty, realization hit him like lightning.

’I… passed?’ His chest tightened. He looked back again.

Faces stared at him in disbelief. He laughed weakly under his breath, emotion choking his throat.

But then… He turned forward again. If he had come this far… why stop?

Fifty-five.

Sixty.

Murmurs turned into shocked whispers.

“That boy! Does anyone know who he is and which family he is from?”

“Nope. He’s wearing rags… But his luck seems to be very strong.”

“How is this possible?”

Meanwhile, Seika continued to climb the stairs.

Sixty-five.

His breathing grew heavy now — not from pressure, but disbelief.

Seventy.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

A boy looking like a beggar had taken seventy steps.

Seventy steps!

Only one other person had reached that height in today’s test earlier, and she was from a well-known, powerful family.

But Seika? His attire gave away clearly what kind of family he was from or what situation he was in. Barely anybody could believe their eyes.

Seika stood there, trembling. Not from exhaustion. But from the sudden, terrifying realization…

Maybe…

Just maybe…

The world had not completely abandoned him.

He suppressed the storm of emotions threatening to erupt within him. Fear. Joy. Hope. All of it was dangerous. He had learned that lesson early in life.

Slowly, deliberately, Seika lifted his foot and placed it on the next step.

Seventy-one.

Nothing changed. Still no pressure. No crushing force. No resistance. A ripple ran through the crowd.

The middle-aged man conducting the test narrowed his eyes. His gaze sharpened as he carefully scanned the golden steps, the runes embedded deep within them. Everything was functioning exactly as intended.

Which meant only one thing. Seika Solwyn’s luck… was monstrous.

Seika continued.

Seventy-two.

Seventy-three.

Seventy-five.

Gasps erupted again when he passed the eighty-first step without slowing.

“Damn! He’s tied with the Larkwyn girl!”

“Do you think he can beat her record?”

“Hell yeah,” someone exclaimed excitedly. “Don’t you see him? He’s not even sweating! It’s like he’s taking a stroll in a courtyard!”

The murmurs grew louder, more chaotic. People leaned forward, afraid to blink, afraid to miss even a single step. Seika’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, but his body remained steady. He could feel eyes boring into his back and the weight of expectations pressing down on him for the first time in his life.

When he stepped onto the eighty-second step, the crowd exploded into noise once more.

“He defeated her!”

“That’s insane!”

“But she was already at her limit — look at him!”

He took another step.

Eighty-three.

The noise died instantly. As if someone had choked the entire world into silence. Eyes widened. Mouths fell open. The Larkwyn girl, Emma Larkwyn herself, stared, her confident expression finally cracking.

“He… surpassed me.” She whispered.

Seika didn’t stop.

Eighty-five.

Eighty-eight.

Now, even the middle-aged man was openly staring, unable to mask his shock. His fingers trembled slightly as he clenched them behind his back.

This was no longer just a test. This was history being rewritten.

Ninety.

Ninety-two.

Ninety-five.

No one dared to breathe. Every single step echoed like a thunderclap in the hearts of those watching.

“Ninety-six…”

“Ninety-seven…”

Somewhere in the crowd, someone dropped to their knees.

“This… this can’t be real.”

Seika’s vision trembled slightly, not from pressure, but from the overwhelming weight of what he was doing.

Ninety-eight.

Ninety-nine.

The final step loomed before him. He lifted his foot one last time.

The hundredth step.

The temple gates stood tall and ancient, radiating an indescribable presence. Seika swallowed hard. His hand trembled as he placed his foot down.

One hundred.

The moment he stepped onto the final stair, the world changed. Absolute silence blanketed everything below.

Then…

A blinding flash erupted from the Golden Dragon’s Temple. A pillar of light shot straight into the sky, piercing the clouds above. The ground trembled faintly, golden runes flaring to life along the entire stairway.

Gasps turned into stunned screams.

“What is that?!”

“Did some kind of formation activate?!”

The light curved, twisted… and then descended. It surged back down like a falling star and slammed directly into Seika’s body.

But only Seika could see it.

To the others, it looked as though nothing had happened beyond the flash itself.

Inside Seika, however, something profound shifted.

It felt as though a locked door deep within him had been nudged open — just a crack. A warmth spread through his veins, gentle yet powerful, as if something ancient had acknowledged his existence.

Not power. Not yet.

But recognition.

Seika staggered slightly, gripping the stone railing to steady himself. His heart pounded wildly.

’What… was that?’ He had no answer.

Slowly, carefully, he turned around and began descending the stairs. The crowd parted instinctively as he reached the bottom, their gazes following him as though he were no longer human, but some other existence entirely.

The middle-aged man took a deep breath, then stepped forward. “W-Well done,” he said, his composure finally cracking. “You are… the third person in this sect’s history who has climbed all one hundred steps of the Golden Dragon’s Temple’s Stairway.”

The words struck Seika harder than any blow.

“Third…?” he whispered.

“As a reward,” the man continued, raising his voice, “you will receive ten thousand points.” The crowd erupted once more. “If you pass the third test, your progress during the initial stage of cultivation will be… greatly accelerated.”

Seika stood there, stunned. Ten thousand points. Recognition. A future.

He didn’t know how to react. He didn’t know how to express the storm raging inside his chest.

In the end, he bowed awkwardly, his voice hoarse. “Thank you.”

It was the only thing he could say.’

Within the Grand Library, Logan lifted his gaze from the book, his eyes sharp and thoughtful.

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