Yang Yan moved his steps, walking past the fallen cultivator.
He carried his sword on his back and continued onward.
On the twenty-five-thousandth level, he heard cries for help.
"Help me, is there anyone who can save me!
I am the Saint Heir of the Fengshen Sect, Wan Feng!
Anyone who saves me will be greatly rewarded!"
Yang Yan looked over and saw a young cultivator at the Fourth Layer Heaven of the Four Extremes Secret Realm, lying on the ground with his body covered in bloody wounds.
Moreover, his arms had been severed; only two legs were left, looking utterly miserable.
This path up the Heavenly Saint Mountain now seemed not only difficult but perilous.
The stairs below were not difficult because of the Dao Realm.
The cultivators trapped there didn't have high cultivation levels.
They also had enough sense not to provoke others easily, so not many would get hurt there.
But the higher one went, the different it became.
