Max's mind sharpened as excitent gradually gave way to reason.
Comprehending a true Cosmic Path was beyond his current realm. His foundation, though solid, was far from the Divine Lord Realm required to solidify such a grand trajectory. Attempting to force comprehension now would only destabilize his cultivation.
He opened his eyes slowly, though he remained in a ditative stance.
"Comprehending the full Cosmic Path is impossible for at this stage," he thought deeply. "But that does not an I cannot prepare for it."
He recalled the path he had chosen for his sword.
When he cultivated sword intent, he had not blindly absorbed every concept. He had refined a direction. He had chosen a trajectory for his sword to follow. That direction gave cohesion to his intent and allowed it to deepen steadily rather than scatter.
The sa principle could apply here.
If he could not grasp the entire Cosmic Path of flas, then he would at least determine the direction his flas should evolve toward.
Should they embody annihilation, erasing all obstacles with overwhelming finality?
Should they represent controlled destruction, precise and absolute?
Should they embody creation from ruin, forging strength through purification?
Each choice would lead to a fundantally different path.
Max allowed the invading fla energy to circulate within him once more, this ti not rely enduring it but observing its nuances carefully. He examined how each conceptual strand resonated with his bloodline and physique.
His bloodline stirred faintly at certain aspects of the flas, particularly those aligned with dominance and absolute eradication.
Yet sothing else within him resisted pure annihilation.
His sword had not been forged through reckless destruction. It had been refined through clarity and direction. A direction of emotion severing path.
Perhaps his flas, too, required purpose rather than chaos.
Max's breathing grew deeper as he continued ditating within the third pillar, surrounded by raging fire that made no sound yet carried imnse power.
This trial was no longer rely about surpassing Isabella.
It had beco an opportunity to shape the foundation of his future.
And that realization was far more valuable than speed.
---
And that realization was far more valuable than speed.
---
After remaining in ditation for nearly two hours, Max slowly opened his eyes.
The flas around him had not diminished. If anything, they seed denser and more suffocating than before. Yet the difference lay within him. His perception had sharpened. The chaotic heat no longer felt like a wild storm pressing against his body. It felt structured, layered, almost transparent in its intent.
Without hesitation, he resud walking.
Now that he had grasped the essence hidden within the third pillar, his movents changed. He no longer needed to test every wisp of fire that entered his body. He understood how to filter the invading energy, how to identify its conceptual threads without being overwheld.
His speed increased dramatically.
Two thousand four hundred miles.
Two thousand five hundred miles.
Two thousand seven hundred miles.
Two thousand nine hundred miles.
His figure moved steadily, yet with a rhythm that was entirely different from Isabella's earlier explosive advance. There was no reckless acceleration. There was precision. His Divine Essence circulated smoothly, and the fla laws that brushed against him were analyzed rather than resisted.
Soon, he crossed into the fourth pillar.
The transition was imdiate.
The golden crimson hue deepened further, and the pressure intensified to a level that forced even seasoned disciples to pause. Max's gaze shifted slightly as he observed a group of disciples seated in ditation not far ahead.
"Are they the first group?" he wondered silently.
Several of them bore the aura of the leading wave that had crossed the first pillar ahead of him. Now, however, they were seated with eyes closed, attempting to stabilize themselves beneath the mounting pressure of the fourth layer.
Max did not disturb them. Instead, he closed his own eyes briefly.
The pressure here was different from the third layer.
"There is greater weight," he muttered softly. "But the fla laws themselves are not yet significantly intensified."
He quickly realized that the initial stretch of the fourth pillar emphasized pure suppression. The flas pressed down heavily, testing endurance and foundation before gradually reintroducing denser conceptual strands.
Opening his eyes once more, he stepped forward.
Three thousand two hundred miles.
Three thousand four hundred miles.
Three thousand six hundred miles.
As he advanced deeper into the fourth pillar, the environnt changed once again. The oppressive pressure began to blend with refined fla laws. The strands of conceptual energy grew clearer and more concentrated. The deeper he went, the more pronounced they beca.
This forced him to adjust.
He could no longer maintain the sa uninterrupted pace. Every few dozen miles, he slowed. Sotis after one hundred miles, he paused to recalibrate his breathing and circulation. Other tis, after rely twenty or fifty miles, he stopped when he sensed a denser concentration of law embedded within the flas.
Each pause was deliberate.
He did not view them as delays. They were opportunities.
He stood still, closed his eyes briefly, observed the specific manifestation of fla law within that region, and integrated the impression into his understanding before moving forward again.
This rhythm gradually beca his pattern within the fourth pillar.
Advance.
Pause.
Comprehend.
Adjust.
Then advance again.
While others either rushed recklessly or stagnated in prolonged ditation, Max found a balance between movent and reflection.
Step by step, mile by mile, he carved his path through the fourth layer.
Eventually, the oppressive crimson glow shifted subtly.
The boundary of the fifth pillar ca into view.
Without fanfare, Max crossed it.
The pressure surged the instant he stepped into the fifth layer, and the surrounding flas deepened into a darker, more intense shade.
He had officially entered the threshold required to pass the trial as an outer disciple.
As Max advanced deeper, he gradually beca aware of the figures scattered across the fifth pillar.
So disciples were seated cross legged amidst the surging flas, their expressions tense as they struggled to stabilize their breathing and circulate their energy under the overwhelming pressure. Others continued pushing forward in staggered bursts, their movents slower and far more labored than before.
Max's gaze swept across them briefly.
He recognized several faces.
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