Ling Tian didn't let up. Up and up, two steps at a time. The gravity array felt like an invisible hand was pressing down on him, but he and his dragon's power were roaring in defiance. There were gasping nobles everywhere, faces purple from straining to make it to the top.
Bai Zhan, despite his wound, managed to keep pace, his amulet negating gravity. The thing was the mark of the rich folks he was.
He sneered with a glint in his eyes as he looked at Ling Tain.
Ling Tian ignored him.
This was about Ling Tian, the noble who'd just dissed the upper class and wasn't taking it personally. He took the stairs despite the gravitational pressure, and he did it two at a time. From the text, you could tell that Ling Tian was a proud, strong dude who didn't take his threats lightly. The dragon power was an important part of this passage. It showed he had special powers and he was basically invincible.
At the summit, only fifty of the original three hundred remained.
The second trial awaited.
A massive mirror, its surface swirling like mercury, stood in the center of the plaza.
"Face your heart's demon," the proctor intoned. "Those who break, fail."
One by one, disciples stepped forward—some screamed, some wept, a few collapsed.
Bai Zhan emerged after ten minutes, pale but smug.
Then it was Ling Tian's turn.
The mirror's surface swallowed him whole.
In the darkness, he smeeld the scent of burning flesh.
Looking forward, he saw a familiar figure on the ground in a pool of blood, his father.
"Weak," whispered the crimson-eyed man from his memories. "You let them die."
Ling Tian's fists clenched.
"No."
The dragon mark burned.
"I will kill you," Ling Tian growled. "I will burn your soul to ash."
The illusion shattered.
The mirror exploded in a storm of glass.
Disciples screamed, diving for cover.
From the shadows, Elder Mo the old man in tattered robes chuckled.
"Interesting."