Temple of Destruction.
Violet stood at the entrance, holding the hollow Horn of the Sky-Shattering Ancestor until her hand went numb.
The sharp spikes of the horn had pierced her palm. Golden blood trickled down the cracks in the horn, dripping onto the volcanic rock and hissing with rising clouds of golden smoke.
She could feel that all three Demigods were keeping their eyes locked on her.
The moment she showed the slightest weakness, they would rush forward and kill her.
Gritting her teeth, Violet forced her cultivation to appear as a terrifying 48-star pressure. Purple and gold light surrounded her, bright enough to almost blind anyone. She pretended the horn was still ready to trigger Self-Destruct at any moment.
She silently counted the seconds. The 18-day deadline felt like it was rushing through her mind; with every passing second, the pressure grew heavier.
