EBE Chapter 542 On the High Platform
Chapter 542 On the High Platform
Lin Tian glanced at the illusory figures.
A system notification sounded in my ear.
[Suppression by "Heroic Will" detected. Current suppression intensity: 15%.]
[Willpower assessment in progress... Assessment passed. Suppression effect weakened.]
The pressure has indeed eased somewhat, but it's still there.
Lin Tian continued walking upwards.
At the tenth step, the compression intensity reached 40%.
The phantoms became clearer, and their facial features could even be seen—there were men and women, old and young, of various races.
But their eyes are the same, that obsession that spans a thousand years, frozen in their sockets, staring intently at everyone who tries to climb the platform.
Celia followed behind Lin Tian, her face slightly pale.
As a succubus, her mental strength is not weak, but this suppression of heroic will has an additional bonus on beings outside the prime material plane.
She could feel her thoughts slowing down, as if they were being entangled by something.
"Brother Tian..." she said softly.
Lin Tian didn't turn around, but simply stretched out his hand, palm facing backward.
A pale golden light spread from his palm, enveloping Celia and Little White.
Celia's complexion immediately improved somewhat.
Little White let out a cheerful cry in the air, and the luster on its scales became even brighter.
Lin Tian continued walking upwards.
The twentieth step has a compression strength of 65%.
The phantoms began to move. Not to attack, but to kneel on one knee—they knelt on either side of the steps, their heads bowed, as if welcoming, or perhaps pleading.
Lin Tian paused for a moment.
He looked at the kneeling phantoms, paused for a second, and then continued walking upwards.
The thirtieth step has a compression intensity of 80%.
The phantom disappeared.
It didn't disappear; rather, it merged into the steps beneath his feet.
He could feel those wills surging into his body, perceiving his soul, and judging whether he was qualified to step onto this high platform.
Lin Tian did not resist.
His will was like a mountain, unmoved no matter how the wills of those heroic spirits tried to erode it.
The fortieth step, with a compression strength of 95%.
His pace finally slowed down.
It wasn't because he couldn't bear it, but because he sensed the emotions within those wills—not hostility, not resistance, but expectation.
These heroic spirits have guarded this place for countless years, waiting not for an enemy, but for someone who can truly ascend to the high platform.
Lin Tian took a deep breath and stepped onto the last step.
The fiftieth step.
On the high platform.
The suppression intensity instantly dropped to zero. All that invisible pressure, the will of those heroic spirits, those scrutinizing gazes—all vanished, as if they had never existed.
Lin Tian stood on the high platform, his gaze fixed on the sword.
This sword is even more stunning up close than it is from a distance.
The exposed part of the sword is about 1.2 meters long, and with the part inserted into the ground, the total length is at least two meters.
This is a two-handed greatsword with a broad blade, sharpened on both sides, and a thick spine.
The sword was covered in cracks, not from damage, but from some kind of energy overflow—as if the sword could not contain the internal force and was torn apart.
The hilt guard is shaped like two outstretched wings, with the left and right wings symmetrical and the feather patterns clearly discernible.
The wings were not made of metal, but rather some kind of bone, with a dark gold color that shimmered faintly under the pale blue fluorescent light.
The pommel is a round gem, about the size of an egg, set at the end of the hilt.
The gemstone had become so dull that its color was almost invisible, but it suddenly lit up when Lin Tian approached.
It was very faint, like a star that was about to go out, twinkling briefly in its last moments.
Lin Tian stared at the gemstone and remained silent for a moment.
Then he reached out and grasped the hilt of the sword.
The hilt was cool to the touch and felt great in his hand, as if it had been made just for him.
He closed his fingers, placed his palm under the guard, and felt the fine lines on the hilt—not carved lines, but traces of cracks in the blade extending to the hilt.
He tried to draw his sword.
The sword remained completely still.
It's not that I lack strength, it's that the sword is unwilling to be drawn.
Lin Tian could sense the sword's resistance—this sword possessed a spirit, and it was choosing its own master.
Not just anyone can pull it out of the rock.
Celia floated onto the high platform and stood behind Lin Tian, her gaze fixed on the sword.
"This is... the sword that guards the Hall of Heroes."
She spoke softly, her tone carrying a rare reverence, "I heard about it when I was in the Abyss. The allied forces of the Prime Material Plane forged this sword on their last line of defense, sharpening it with the will of countless heroic spirits. Its mission was not to kill the enemy, but to guard. To guard this line of defense, to prevent the Abyss from stepping over it."
Lin Tian did not turn around; his gaze remained fixed on the sword.
"And then?" he asked.
"The Abyss Legion was later defeated, but the heroic spirits who forged the sword did not leave."
Celia said, "Their will is infused into this sword, and it remains here with it. Guarding this place, waiting."
"What are you waiting for?"
"Wait for someone to come and draw their sword."
Lin Tian remained silent for a few seconds.
"Did we get there?"
Celia shook her head: "I don't know. But the seal is crumbling. If no one pulls out this sword, the seal will disappear completely. Then..."
She didn't finish speaking.
But Lin Tian knew what she meant.
The thing behind the door will wake up.
Lin Tian looked at the faintly glowing gem on the hilt of the sword, then glanced at his own palm.
He gripped the sword hilt again.
This time, he didn't pull hard; instead, he closed his eyes.
He extended his senses to the sword.
At first, there was nothing. Only the cold metallic touch and those fine cracks.
Then, he felt it.
Countless voices echoed in his mind.
It's not language, it's emotion.
The battle cries, the dying gasps, the grief and indignation of fallen comrades, the despair of the breached defenses, and—in the final moment, the decision everyone made simultaneously.
No refund.
I will never retreat, even if it means death.
The sounds came from all directions, overwhelming him like a tidal wave.
It's not an attack, not an invasion, but a confession.
The will of these heroic spirits has been sealed here for too many years; no one listens, no one understands, and no one knows that they are still waiting.
Lin Tian did not push them away.
He just stood there, listening quietly.
Listen to the battles that no one remembers, the sacrifices that no one knows, and the perseverance that no one understands.
On the high platform, all was silent.
Celia watched Lin Tian's retreating figure without disturbing him. Little White landed on the edge of the platform and quieted down as well, even its breathing became soft.
Time passed by, second by second.
I don't know how much time has passed.
Lin Tian opened his eyes.
His gaze was deeper than before, as if something was settling within it.