Most of the cultivators on Xiao Ming's side, having listened to the whispers of their hearts, felt a profound sense of relief wash over them.
They had obeyed their instincts, and that decision now felt like a lifeline in the face of the overwhelming danger that surrounded them.
The scene before them—a haunting tableau of death and destruction—lingered in their minds like a nightmare they couldn't shake.
It was a stark reminder that they were trespassing in a sacred place, a tomb that belonged to a being whose power eclipsed their own by immeasurable leagues.
To venture here was to court death itself. Any cultivator with even a shred of self-preservation would have hesitated before stepping foot into such a perilous domain.
Yet, here they were, driven by greed, ambition, or perhaps sheer foolishness.
Now that they had crossed the threshold, the only thing left to do was to tread with the utmost caution, their senses heightened to the slightest hint of danger.
