Time passed, second by second.
An hour.
Two hours.
Ten hours.
A whole day and night flew by, yet Chris still hadn’t reached the top of the steps.
The next morning, sunlight bathed his motionless figure. Chris stood on the steps, unmoving. His clothes were in tatters, barely clinging to his body. His hair was wild, and his face smeared with grime, making him resemble a beggar.
Suddenly, Chris opened his eyes. A sharp, terrifying light flashed from his gaze.
Each time Chris climbed a step, his muscles tore apart. But his extraordinary regenerative ability repaired the damage, over and over. Through this relentless cycle of destruction and recovery, his body grew stronger, tougher.
Chris wasn’t climbing these steps simply for the sake of it. He sought strength-craved it. He had always wanted to find a grueling environment to push his body to its very limits.
Now, he realized that these stairs were the perfect crucible.
Three months passed.
For three relentless months, Chris stood upon these steps. In that time, he had pushed his body to heights he had never imagined possible.
Turning back, Chris glanced at the long stretch of stairs behind him. A faint smile played on his lips as he exhaled slowly.
In those three months, his strength had soared. Now, even if he faced a powerful opponent from the early stages of Solstice, he wouldn’t be at a disadvantage.
Looking up at the steps ahead, Chris thought of the ancient legends of Aethelgard, the tales of Dragon Hall.
According to legend, in the ancient days of Aethelgard, the fortress known as Fort Dragon contained the mythical Dragon Hall. To enter it, one had to climb every step leading to its gates. Only the most extraordinary geniuses of that era had ever completed the climb.
A small smile crept onto Chris’s face. He took another step forward.
The moment his foot touched the ground, an overwhelming force of gravity crashed down on him. The pressure bore down like an unrelenting storm, threatening to crush his heart and boil the blood in his veins.
Chris gritted his teeth and refused to give in.
Time moved forward. Half a month passed.
In that time, Chris climbed 500 steps. Yet hundreds more lay ahead. The sheer difficulty of completing the climb was unfathomable.
By now, Chris’s body had fallen into a state of numbness. He couldn’t feel pain or hunger. He was like a walking corpse, devoid of sensation.
His body had already reached its breaking point. Every vein in his body had ruptured. If not for his terrifying regenerative ability, he would have been long dead.
But if he dared to climb even further, his heart might not survive the crushing gravity. It would explode.
Still, Chris had climbed more than 500 steps. To stop now, to surrender, was unthinkable.
His energy was drained, his body at the brink of collapse. But he couldn’t die here-not yet. He had a wife and child waiting for him back on Earth. He couldn’t let it end like this.
Chris roared, “I will not die here!”
With those words, he stepped onto another stair.
In an instant, the gravity surged once more, slamming into him like a hurricane. The weight was unbearable, as though he carried an entire mountain on his back.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
He climbed, step by agonizing step.
The gravity pounded down like relentless waves, breaking him over and over. His internal organs felt shattered, his bones crushed. Yet Chris clenched his teeth and pressed forward. He refused to stop.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
The crushing weight stole his consciousness. Chris felt on the brink of death. His heart was slowing, his life slipping away.
The footsteps of death drew closer. Never before had Chris been this near to the abyss.
Though he bore the title of Primus, he was no immortal god. He could die like any other.
But he refused to give up, even in the face of death.
Chris forced himself to stand, dragging his body forward. He placed one foot on the final step.
If anyone had been there to witness it, they would have been struck dumb. He was a madman-a lunatic.
The stairs leading to Dragon Hall grew heavier with each step. The final step was said to possess gravity so crushing, no ordinary person could endure it.
But now, Chris had one foot on that final step.
Rumble!
Rumble!
Rumble!
The air itself seemed to collapse under the pressure.
Even so, Chris fought to lift his other leg, forcing it onto the final step.
At last, both feet stood firmly on the last step.
In that moment, his heart stopped beating, and the life drained from his body.
Chris was dead.
Or so it seemed.
As his lifeless body stood there, a figure rushed toward him. It was Stripes.
In Stripes’s hand was a fruit-the Spirit Fruit. Without hesitation, Stripes pushed the fruit into Chris’s mouth.
The Spirit Fruit dissolved, and its immense life force surged into Chris. Slowly, his heart began to beat again, and his life returned.
The Spirit Fruit was a rare treasure in Aethelgard, brimming with vitality. It could pull someone back from the brink of death and restore their strength in the shortest time possible.
Chris had narrowly escaped death.
He was the first person since ancient times to climb the steps to Dragon Hall.
No one knew why a great battle had taken place here in those ancient days. But after that conflict, no Aetherbinding practitioner had ever reached the highest level to become a god.
Now, many doubted whether gods even existed.
Chris’s injuries were severe. Without the Spirit Fruit, he would have died.
He had obtained three Spirit Fruits during a previous venture into the underground caverns of Celestial Peaks. One had been used to temper his body, and now the second had saved his life.
Only one Spirit Fruit remained.
Before ascending the stairs, Chris had given the last fruit to Stripes, knowing it might save him in a moment of crisis.
His foresight had paid off.
But why was the Stairway to Heaven filled with such immense gravity?
What secrets lay hidden here?
And what awaited above?