So what! Are you going to kill me?

The parasite Jin Cancan was forced to strengthen himself and rummaged through his storage ring.

Jiang Tingyun thought that after getting rid of Jin Cancan, this burden, he would be able to speed up his journey to the top of the valley. However, when Jin Cancan let go, the breath he had been holding for a long time relaxed, and he was knocked to the ground with a "bang" by the pressure of the Heavenly Rank.

It’s a pity that I’m just a little bit away from reaching the 8,000th level, which would mean a completely different starting point and resources.

But his expectation was actually only 6,000 levels, and this result was already quite good—

"Seven thousand steps is very impressive." Jin Cancan finally found the fine iron sword given by Lin Yanqiu in the storage ring. He squatted down and patted Jiang Tingyun's shoulder encouragingly: "You have done everything you can do. I will complete the rest of the journey for you."

There were already cultivators ready to take Jiang Tingyun away, but he suddenly got up from the ground, pointed at Jin Cancan and cursed: "Why are you pretending? If I hadn't brought a piece of trash like you, I would definitely be able to reach eight thousand!"

Her tone, as if she were a senior to him, was really maddening!!!

Does she know how to be grateful?! Does she have any sense of shame?! Huh?!

The two monks were also stunned. Standing up? This was the first time they had encountered such a situation. They had never seen a precedent where someone could stand up again after falling down.

They looked at each other and saw that the young man was following behind Jin Cancan and cursing all the way. He looked full of energy and could climb another 2,000 steps. They were a little unsure how to count Jiang Tingyun's performance.

The Heavenly Stage had developed intelligence and would not allow them to stay here for too long. It had already created some pressure to remind them that they had already endured a difficult trial when they first entered the sect, and did not want to go through it again, so they quickly turned around and carried others.

Jin Cancan, who used the fine iron sword as a crutch, was already out of breath. This mountain was harder to climb than Mount Huangshan. The original owner must not have exercised much and must not have had much physical strength.

Jiang Tingyun was tired of scolding, and the eight thousand steps had reached his limit. He lay on the steps and said in a muffled voice: "What kind of monster are you? Can't you feel any resistance at all?"

Jin Cancan panted and replied, "How can I not feel it? The friction between my joints, the resistance of the air, the gravity of the earth, and your violent language all make me feel powerless."

Jiang Tingyun was held up by the monks. He was too lazy to explain and waved his hand, saying, "Get lost. If you can't climb to the top of the mountain, I will really look down on you."

The first eight thousand people who pass the Spirit Heaven Rank test will be met by disciples arranged by all the major sects and their scores will be recorded. Only the best who reach the top will be able to directly meet the five elders in the first round of competition.

Several elders stood solemnly at the top of the mountain, their sleeves fluttering in the wind. They were all waiting for the first person to be recognized by the Spirit Tester and successfully climb the ten thousand steps to stand in front of them.

The young man, covered in golden light, crossed the last step. His posture was as straight as a pine tree. His long, thick black hair was casually tied behind his head, with a few strands of hair hanging unruly from his forehead. His facial lines were very cold and hard, and although his facial features were not outstanding, his eyes were deep and sharp, as if there was an endless edge hidden in his eyes.

He carried a huge sword on his back, clasped his fists and bowed: "Junior Yin Jin, I greet the elders."

When they saw the giant sword wrapped in white cloth, they vaguely guessed the identity of the young man in front of them.

“Is this… Is this Xianyang Sword Master’s Pinglin Giant Sword?” Tan Wei’s beard trembled as he stared at Yin Jin in disbelief, “Are you his only disciple Yin Jin?”

Yin Jin untied the straps around his body, and the giant sword smashed straight to the ground, making a dull sound: "Yes."

Xianyang Jianzun is different from them. He has not joined any sect or force. He relies on his talent and hard work to enter the fusion realm on his own. He is one of the most powerful independent cultivators.

His swordsmanship is unique, with great sweeping and powerful moves. Many people wanted to become his disciples, but were unable to do so due to his elusive whereabouts. It was not until he died in a battle and Yin Jin collected his remains that people learned that Xianyang Sword Master already had a disciple.

"You've suffered." Tan Wei sighed in his heart. He and Xianyang Jianzun were close friends regardless of age difference, but he never thought that his best friend would perish on the ice field of the Northern Region. "You came from the north, so you must have suffered a lot... Don't worry, I will go to the Blade Sect and will definitely protect you."

Seeing this, the other elders felt jealous that this old man had gotten there first.

Yin Jin has a high starting point and will definitely be a great man in the future. Everyone wants to snatch him to their own sect... What's more, he is the only disciple of Xianyang Sword Master, almost like a half-son. Who knows how many treasures he has on him. It will definitely be twice as effective with half the effort when practicing. With the help of the Linping Divine Sword, it is hard to imagine how terrifyingly fast this boy's growth rate will be.

What a pity, who let Tan Wei have a friendship with Xianyang Jianzun? It is also human nature to come to seek refuge with the master's best friend.

Others also assumed that Yin Jin had come to seek refuge with Tan Wei. He stroked his beard with his eyes not eyes and his nose not nose, and the sound of breathing came out of his nostrils one after another.

"Elder Tan, I have already chosen a sect in mind." Yin Jin raised his head slightly. The wind blew his sleeves up, and the sword pattern embroidered on the cuffs was faintly visible. "After the spiritual root test, I hope to join Qingyun Sect."

Zeng Tianheng looked up suddenly. This was really a pleasant surprise: "Good boy, our Qingyun Sect is indeed more suitable for you. Come, I will personally take you to do the spiritual root test."

Tan Wei was stunned and stopped Yin Jin: "Don't you want to reconsider it? We also have heavy sword masters in our sect."

"We have one in our sect, too, and there is a highly accomplished weapon refiner who is the best at maintaining heavy swords."

"I use the heavy sword myself. If you are willing to come, I can teach you two unique skills right now."

"Han Ting, you old man, how can you say such a thing?"

"Don't stare at me, it depends on your ability!"

Yin Jin stood silently in the center of them, not feeling happy at all that he was the object of competition among the elders.

He lowered his head and stroked the dust off the scabbard of Pinglin sword, his expression gloomy.

Along the way, he was besieged by many enemies of his master. The snow on the northern ice field turned red that day. He carried his master's giant sword and killed all the way to Dingxue Valley, determined not to let go of anyone who framed his master.

pat, pat.

It was the sound of something hitting the ground.

Several elders stopped arguing and turned to look—

Jin Cancan was leaning on the fine iron sword, wiping the coughed up blood with a look of despair. The blood on her chest had already coagulated into lumps, and the dark red blood dripped onto the last step. The Celing Heavenly Steps, which emitted a bright light like a beautiful jade, seemed to have red plum blossoms blooming. Everyone's attention was on Jin Cancan, and no one noticed that the Celing Heavenly Steps were greedily absorbing her blood.

Under the gazes of the crowd, she calmly moved one leg and stepped on the blood, trying to cover up the fact that she had stained the steps: "Private Marseille, Jin Cancan was here."