Seen from far off there was no telling how high a mountain stood; only by climbing that rugged path did a man learn how hard every step was.

With the last time behind him, and with the Divine Peak True Intent in him for a foundation—

Shen Yi poured the demon lifespan in faster and faster, and rested for shorter and shorter stretches.

If the first climb had felt like a vast pressure, like sinking deep into a bog.

Then this time the endless bog had gathered itself into a great mountain; and that mountain grew smaller and smaller until it was no bigger than a palm, and then came down savagely on the climber's spine.

Pressing hard enough to make a man feel his souls were scattering.

And in An Yi's eyes.

Shen Yi sat cross-legged outside the low hill, both shoulders trembling beyond his control, the ink robe on him long since soaked through and clinging stickily to his skin.

Wipe as she might, she could not wipe the weariness off his brow.

Until a streak of light came sweeping in out of the sky.

Yan Chongzhang had only just come down beside the Nameless Mountain when he saw Elder Yang, blank-faced.

That look on the man put him unaccountably in mind of himself the last time the young friend Shen gazed on the mountain.

The boldness of the thought made Yan Chongzhang set aside the business of Pan Boyang for a moment, and go hunting impatiently for Shen Yi.

Having found that familiar back—

A certain alarm welled up in Yan Chongzhang's eyes. "……"

He knew how fond the Nameless Mountain was of the young friend Shen, and he had been working hard to digest the business of the three days; he had all but talked himself around, and now here was this.

How long had it been? One afternoon?

By the change in the man's look, he had plainly gained a great deal again.

What was this — was the Nameless Mountain so afraid of tiring him out and losing him that it had simply built…