Mark, overcome with emotion, fainted—just as Timothy had the previous time. Timothy, nursing a fresh injury, was pale and furious. Were seven steps truly so insurmountable? "Is there no one who can surpass seven steps? Is there no martial artist stronger than him?" he growled, refusing to accept the reality.
The martial artists fell silent. Several sovereign-grade fighters had attempted the pathway, but none had progressed beyond the fifth step. Dustin's record of seven steps, set by the world's second-strongest fighter, remained unchallenged; no one dared to underestimate it.
"Sir, are we waiting for the Fox family descendant to complete his challenge before we attempt it?" Metal Mask's subordinate whispered from beneath a tree. Metal Mask shook his head, his eyes flashing. He wouldn't follow Dustin. Dustin's gaze was clearly upon him; the sooner Metal Mask finished, the sooner he could leave.
Metal Mask approached the pathway's beginning. Unfamiliar with his identity, the others perceived him as an overconfident youth. But Dustin tensed, his gaze fixed on Metal Mask. Howard's expression grew serious; he sensed Metal Mask's strength.
Metal Mask stood still, closed his eyes, then opened them, his eyes blazing. Boom! A terrifying aura erupted, silencing everyone instantly. "What's this...?" The sovereign-grade fighters' eyes widened in shock. This aura, this power... Mark was among the strongest sovereign-grade fighters, yet Metal Mask far surpassed him, his strength terrifying.
Despite their astonishment, the onlookers tried to identify Metal Mask. He moved with startling speed to the corridor's start, taking his fourth step in an instant. The crowd's surprise deepened. Timothy watched intently. In the blink of an eye, Metal Mask reached his fifth step—the first to do so besides Dustin. The sixth, then the seventh! The crowd was stunned; someone had finally matched Dustin's feat. Could he break the record?
After a brief pause, Metal Mask slowly took his eighth step, a frown creasing his face. The crowd erupted. "Someone finally broke his record!" Timothy laughed derisively. Dustin's record had fallen! Timothy felt a surge of vicarious satisfaction. Dustin narrowed his eyes. The crowd watched eagerly, wondering how far Metal Mask would go. Could he reach the highest record of ten steps?
Metal Mask attempted a ninth step, but his foot faltered, then he retracted it. He looked defeated; he knew he couldn't proceed. He returned to the starting point.
"Sir, you achieved eight steps. You may choose an item from our storehouse," Howard announced. Metal Mask nodded. Failing to obtain the ultimate technique, he would settle for Apollo's martial arts insights.
All eyes turned to Dustin, the only remaining contender. Could he surpass Metal Mask's achievement? "Go all out, boy," Howard smiled. Dustin returned the smile. After prolonged observation and three days of meditation, he finally understood the illusion: each step required a confrontation with an illusory Apollo.