In the valley, the atmosphere was oppressively suffocating.
Li Yunjing and his group stood still, hardly daring to breathe, their eyes fixed on the Nascent Soul cultivators exuding terrifying auras in the void.
Every slight movement they made seemed to trigger a wave of tension among the cultivators in the valley.
Around them, other cultivators wore solemn expressions; some trembled slightly, clutching their magical treasures tightly, trying to draw a sense of security from the cold touch.
Should the Nascent Soul cultivators act, they could annihilate everyone there.
These ancient monsters in the Nascent Soul Realm had varied temperaments, and everyone feared provoking them, bringing on a deadly calamity.
Time slowly passed in this agonizing wait, each second stretched infinitely.
Suddenly, a deep rumble echoed from the depths of the valley, akin to the roar of an ancient beast.
From the once-calm valley floor, a layer of misty purple fog slowly arose.
