The others had no objections either. Their escape-lights immediately slowed, and together they descended toward the desolate mountain on the left.
The five did not stand shoulder to shoulder, but took positions according to the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams. Clearly, while still in the sect, they had already practiced how to join hands against an enemy.
Even so, their expressions still held not the slightest trace of ease. After all, the one they were about to face was a cultivator of the Nascent Soul Realm.
And one with a notorious reputation at that.
As for how much confidence they truly had in preserving their lives, even the old man leading them had no certainty in his heart.
In his own words, they could only seek life from death and stake everything on one desperate fight.
Only a moment later, a cloud roughly an acre in size appeared in their sight.
It churned without cease, faint rumbles of thunder coming from within it, its momentum astonishing to the extreme.
The five faces grew even paler, especially Zhu Qianru's. Her delicate body was even trembling slightly, though whether from fear or nervousness was hard to say.
"Everyone, don't be afraid. The old monster has only just suffered qi deviation and still hasn't fully recovered. With the five of us joining hands, as long as we're careful, we still have a chance of winning." The short, stout old man spoke slowly. Of course, those words were absolutely exaggerated; their purpose was to bolster both himself and his companions!
Then he slapped the back of his head and spat out a Dharma Treasure blazing with golden light. It looked rather eye-catching, yet its shape was quite peculiar—it was actually a pickaxe shaped like a crane's beak.
The other cultivators also each took out