The aftermath of the Tower's destruction was quieter than anyone expected.
The injured were carried away—Zhao Yuan on a stretcher, Pin Sujin supported by three guards, countless disciples unconscious or trembling as the pressure of the Crow and Lamb slowly faded from their minds. Healers worked in rows, qi threads glowing faintly as they tended to the wounded.
Zhao Ming and Lin Xue were the last to leave the arena.
They had no injuries severe enough to keep them from standing.
And more importantly—
They had earned the right to ascend.
Their badges glowed with a new layer of silver light.
A guard bowed deeply, voice cracked with awe.
"You two… may now enter the Middle-Plane."
The doors opened.
And they stepped through.
The Middle-Plane was nothing like The Floor.
It was… beautiful.
Buildings rose like polished mirrors reflecting the sky—tall, slender skyscrapers with glowing runic veins etched along their edges. Suspended bridges connected structures built upon massive living roots, thick as fortress walls. Plants grew everywhere, not wild but arranged, glowing softly with spiritual energy.
It was impossible, unnatural—
alive.
The air hummed gently with qi so pure Lin Xue almost gasped.
Zhao Ming did.
"It's… like a city floating between clouds," he whispered.
At the center of everything, rising endlessly upward, was the Great Tower itself—a single white spire piercing the heavens. From this angle, they could see far above: the faint, shimmering silhouette of The Cloud layer.
Lin Xue stared upward, feeling her heart tighten.
One more step.
One step closer to the Silver Lamb.
Zhao Ming lowered his gaze, feeling a different pull. He didn't know why he came here. Not clearly. But something inside him whispered that in this place—somewhere—answers waited.
They exchanged a few quiet words, tired from the battles and mental strain.
"Rest well," Lin Xue told him.
"You too."
Then, they parted ways.
Lin Xue walked alone through the glowing pathways of the Middle-Plane.
Even after everything—being burned, bruised, drained of qi, humiliated by the Lamb's refusal—this place filled her with a strange, peaceful energy.
The inns here were calm and orderly, small lanterns lighting their entrances. Prices were modest, fair, nothing like the predatory dens of The Floor.
No one slept on the streets.
No one was starving.
No one trembled under debt.
This place was for those who had proven something.
She walked past a garden where golden leaves drifted from a towering tree, past a stone bridge where disciples meditated, past a platform where merchants sold simple, elegant weapons of decent quality.
The Middle-Plane felt like a city designed for cultivators with goals—not desperation.
Lin Xue paused in front of an inn with a pale-blue roof and gentle spiritual warmth emanating from inside. A sign read:
"Twin Rivers Resthouse."
She pushed the door open.
The interior was clean, bright, scented faintly with herbal tea. A receptionist bowed deeply.
"Welcome, cultivator. Rooms are available. Will you be staying long?"
Lin Xue nodded.
Not long enough, she thought—but long enough to prepare.
She needed rest.
She needed to rebuild her strength.
She needed to refine her Phoenix Ascension.
And she needed to begin climbing toward The Cloud.
Toward the Silver Lamb.
Toward the test that would determine whether she was worthy of that woman's attention.
As she walked toward her room, she pulled the Lamb's silver coat tighter around her shoulders.
It still carried a faint, serene warmth—like starlight pressed lightly against her skin.
Lin Xue smiled silently to herself.
Just one step up.
And many more to go.