Chapter 7: The Bridge to the Heavens

“Next, it’s time to head to the square for the Commander level.”

Gazing at the bridge that led upwards, Dugu Farewell stepped gracefully off the arena.

“Senior, are you leaving already?”

“Please stay a little longer and give us some guidance.”

“….”

Hundreds of heroes, now accustomed to his presence, poured out emotions of trust, respect, and longing. They regretted losing the chance to ask him for advice, offering words to persuade him to stay.

Dugu Farewell sensed their warmth, smiled wryly, shook his head, and waved his hand. “I am no senior, merely a Commander. I’m going to broaden my horizons.”

“Astonishing, just a Commander!”

“My Emperor, a practitioner at the Commander realm can advise us heroes, and every word hits the mark—how remarkable.”

“Is another genius about to rise from nowhere?”

“….”

Dugu Farewell had only revealed his true rank to avoid being addressed as a senior. Yet, the heroes showed no disdain, disappointment, or mockery; instead, their enthusiasm grew. Someone led the cry: “Senior, we’ll cheer for you!”

“Indeed, your selfless guidance has spared us many detours; your kindness is beyond repayment. We’ll wave our flags and shout for you!”

“Let’s go, together, over the bridge and into the next realm.”

“May Senior continue to shine in glory!”

“Mighty!”

“….”

Hearing their voices, Dugu Farewell was faintly moved and hesitated in his steps. Hundreds of heroes, whether they had received his guidance or not, rushed forward to surround him, escorting him toward the bridge.

Wherever they passed, their momentum drew countless gazes. Familiar faces couldn’t help but ask questions. Those asked merely smiled and moved forward with pride.

They proceeded together to the bridge. One hero suddenly remembered, slapping his forehead: “Oh no, I forgot something important. From this level onward, the Bridge to Heaven will present challenges beyond our rank. Most of us probably won’t make it across and qualify for the third square.”

The bridge connecting the upper and lower squares was the Bridge to Heaven.

The third square was a general term, referring to the Commander-level square.

Hearing this, many recalled the rule from the Storm Arena and felt dejected. Yet they couldn’t help but speculate: “We can’t cross because the Commander level’s suppression is too strong for heroes. But Senior, though a Commander, is in this special space where the gap between him and us isn’t so great—still, the suppression is real…”

“Too bad, with Senior’s skills, he might make it. We can’t follow by his side to witness a genius’s rise.”

“If he fails, doesn’t that mean he’ll stay here? Then I’ll have another chance to ask for guidance.”

“….”

A single rule stirred hundreds of heroes’ thoughts. Some hoped Dugu Farewell would fail, others wished he would succeed. The cause of these feelings lay in their own hearts.

When the Storm Token merges with a person’s spirit, it retains relevant rules. Dugu Farewell browsed through them and understood the issue. As the Storm Arena existed, differences in rank naturally emerged over time. Normally, one’s strength matched the combat squares; heroes could freely enter the second square.

Of course, talent varies among people. Some geniuses can fight above their rank, so an amendment allows anyone to enter the next higher square. Still, whether watching or challenging, there must be a restriction—thus, rank suppression arises.

This suppression is a comprehensive test of spiritual power. If you withstand it, you earn qualification. If not, you’re eliminated and must stay at your corresponding square, training diligently.

Only strength grants privilege.

The heroes were still fighting or spectating in the arena mainly because of rank suppression; they couldn’t pass through.

Dugu Farewell clicked his tongue but didn’t delay. He strode forward and stepped onto the bridge. At that moment, the Bridge to Heaven seemed to awaken, sensing an interloper. Its slumber was disturbed, and it burst into light. Countless rays undulated like a tidal wave, instantly engulfing him. Wave after wave crashed, attempting to drive him back.

“Senior… is crossing the bridge…”

The heroes felt disappointed but couldn’t help cheering. “Go, Senior!”

“If you withstand the pressure and reach the other side, you’ve passed.”

“….”

The heroes’ conflicting feelings and their shouts meant nothing to Dugu Farewell. His body was enveloped by an invisible force, especially ahead, where tenfold battle power surged within the light, attacking him from all sides. There was nowhere to dodge—except below.

He tried to expand fivefold battle power for a shield, but it was instantly shattered.

If he stayed still, the attack was steady. If he moved, it struck like thunder.

Perhaps in the next moment, the impact would knock him down, returning him to the hero square.

He tucked in his abdomen, bent his knees, bowed his waist, and clasped his arms.

He immediately lowered himself, and his bones crackled as his body shrank, resembling a dwarf. This was a martial art from his previous life called Bone Reduction, allowing one to change body size and move through narrow spaces. Now, he used it to reduce the area exposed to attack.

After these adjustments, he was less than a meter tall, looking like a child. Though the impact was still all-encompassing, it was much less intense.

“Tenfold battle power—standard Commander strength. With my current power, I can’t withstand it head-on.” Bearing the pressure, he didn’t slow, but pushed off with his foot, spinning like a top.

“Arrow Flurry!”

His arms whirled rapidly—dozens, hundreds—darting through the sea of light. But he wasn’t opposing the force.

He was redirecting it!

The countless rays, all laced with tenfold power, were impossible to resist directly. To cross the bridge, another method was needed.

The bridge itself was immovable. The force in the light, however vast and infinite, was ultimately dead like the bridge itself—lacking human wisdom and flexibility.

That was the opportunity.

Dugu Farewell’s mind raced, and he decided to fight force with force.

Using the light’s power against itself—by either explosion or cancellation.

Easier said than done; to borrow that strength was no simple task. Facing thousands of rays, each like a Commander’s strike, with only two arms was a joke; any struggle would be futile.

Luckily, he had Arrow Flurry.

Moreover, the power within the light wasn’t a single point but a line.

His hands danced before him like butterflies among flowers.

With extraordinary vision and judgment, his hundred arms successfully deflected a ray each.

Crack—crack—crack—each ray, redirected, instantly collided with others, creating friction, entanglement, and impact. The resulting explosive force was indiscriminate, detonating in all directions.

The chain reaction sent thunderous explosions rippling across the bridge, stirring waves in the blood-red river below. Several skeletons drifted up and down; in their empty eye sockets, a mysterious light flickered for a moment.

“My Emperor, what is Senior doing? Such commotion!”

“Oh, I just remembered—someone said you don’t have to cross the bridge to pass. Apparently, if you climb down and swim across the blood river, then ascend, as long as you withstand the suppression once, you can enter the third square.”

“I’ve heard that too, but never seen anyone do it.”

“I have,” one hero hesitated before speaking. “Indeed, there’s no rank suppression in the blood river, but it’s extremely dangerous.”

“What danger?”

“See for yourselves.” The hero stepped up, pointed below, and said, “Watch for a while, and you’ll understand.”

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