Tower of Heaven

The number of people was what made it easier for Atlas to utilize invisibility and approach them without being noticed. More importantly, it served as a perfect mechanism to aid him in his escape.

The further he went into the tomb, the more crowded the area would become. Most people were already each other\'s enemies, so he, as someone who blended into the crowd, would be able to progress at a relatively smooth pace.

Atlas already had it all planned out. All he needed now was a collection of the keys he had just learned about.

The blonde man who attacked him merely served as the first of many who were soon to be robbed.

In that moment, as Atlas used him as a human shield, he subtly used his qi to silence his movements. The ring on the other man\'s middle finger, the spatial storage bag in his coat, and even the earring he wore were taken from him while he was focused on the pain of the earth spike stuck in his gut.

The only remaining step was to run.

Atlas glanced at the five opponents who were still preparing their next attacks.

\'If they were not slow, they would have been a problem.\'

However, they were not at that period of their elemental training when they learned how to access the Daos more smoothly. If it weren\'t for this, then Atlas\' advantages would have been nonexistent.

\'Nevertheless, this is the level I can expect from those in this tomb. There are no experienced Earth Sages here like the ones I was facing as I ran from the 11th Floor.\'

And by the time he ran into those with that kind of power again, he would also be at that level.

Atlas rolled away from the blonde man as attacks came raining down. [Burst Step] activated, giving him even more distance before he disappeared with invisibility.

\'I must conserve my qi from here.\'

Which meant that invisibility couldn\'t be overused. Atlas dashed without wasting a single second and breezed past the group. He could hear the blonde man\'s infuriated screeches behind him, but they didn\'t matter anymore.

Atlas\' invisibility disappeared, but he had already positioned his body inside of a storm of energy created by a separate battle.

Several waves of spiritual sense spread through the corridor, but they were not able to isolate their target.

More importantly, the uninvited invasion of privacy directed many offended cultivators\' attention to the group of six bandits. They would not have the peace of mind to chase Atlas any time soon.

\'The 20th Floor is where these young cultivators begin to learn the lessons of life. First and foremost, for a cultivator, spiritual sense is a double-edged sword.\'

It was a great way to receive information about one\'s environment, but it was also a way to measure others. Cultivators were prideful beings who didn\'t like to be judged. If they ever felt the gaze of another cultivator swooping over them, they would not take kindly to it.

Spiritual sense concealment methods existed. Until one was learned, recklessly expanding one\'s perception was nothing more than a dumb idea.

Atlas was long gone by the time the six of them had to face the consequences of their naivety. With seven keys in his hand, he didn\'t feel the need to stay.

\'I do not know the total number I need, but if so many people are fighting, it must be high.\'

These seven were only a fraction of what he needed. In order to account for any mishaps, Atlas decided that a hundred keys was more than enough.

The massive corridor was home to hundreds of cultivators. Of them, most had keys and a few monopolized the majority. Atlas moved through the corridor and picked a few battles to interfere in.

Exploiting the fact that those in dangerous positions couldn\'t consider their surroundings, Atlas became a bandit like no other.

It was difficult to say that he was different from the rest. At most, he refused to kill people who didn\'t deserve death in his eyes, but he was a cultivator through and through.

Cultivators were inherently beings motivated by greed. Even those who claimed to act on their morals would always have those morals skewed by their personal desires.

There was no such thing as a "good person" in the world of cultivators. Nobody considered good and evil on the path of immortality. The world itself was a battlefield of opinions, and the person who stood at the top was the one who decided what was good and what was bad.

Atlas\' stealing spree didn\'t go unnoticed, but it was practically unstoppable. To everyone else, hiding perfectly in such a wide-open corridor was a pipe dream, but he proved them wrong.

They could see through his invisibility if they tried hard enough. They could track his movements as long as they could see him.

However, he always vanished when they thought they\'d found a way to catch him. He became one with the crowd and the corridor, moving into a new battlefield and committing another theft before he could ever be convicted.

And, it wasn\'t as if he was the only person drawing attention. The free-for-all style battlefield of this corridor couldn\'t be overcome by a group. They were bound to run into other groups and find themselves in new fights.

Unfortunately, moving alone without Atlas\' level of dexterity was only a good idea if one had a death wish.

Those who could match his movements, well…

\'...they are already here.\'

With the passing of two hours and a grand amount of effort, Atlas reached the place where he was meant to be, a massive and ornate golden door riddled with holes.

In front of it stood three groups of people whose auras far outstripped the ones Atlas had seen before.

\'The geniuses of this era.\'

The people who matched Artemia and Horus, those who actually presented a challenge.

The badges they wore on their clothing made their affiliations clear.

The group to the far left, made up mostly of women, came from Sky Garden. The one on the right, more diverse than the others, was brought together in the symbolism that represented the society called Euryale. And finally, those in the middle, a group of mostly men, came from Dusk.

These three influences dominated the lower floors. Atlas heard about them many times in his days as a Guide. Their names meant close to nothing above the fiftieth floor, but that was irrelevant. On the floors that constituted the first half of the Tower, they were practically the Great Societies themselves.

And then there was Atlas, accompanying their youngest scions to face whatever lay beyond the golden door.