The Goal They Had Always Pursued

Jin An stood in the center of the battlefield, his long blade hanging at his side, blood still dripping from its tip.

But his fingers tightened, his knuckles turning slightly white as a bead of cold sweat slid down from his temple.

His gaze locked onto Imu's figure. That unprecedented sense of oppression had tensed every nerve in his body.

"This aura..."

Jin An murmured inwardly, a trace of gravity flashing through his eyes.

He had never felt such pure pressure before. This power was neither as violent as the Five Elders' nor as brutishly unreasonable as the monsters'. It was a cold, lofty, absolute suppression.

Her very existence seemed to be a rule that stood above all living beings.

Whitebeard stood nearby, his long blade raised slightly, yet even his wild, arrogant gaze had rarely become so solemn.

He watched Imu slowly emerge from the pillar of light, his brow deeply furrowed.

"Damn... Just her aura alone is this troublesome. She's really a pain."

Loki stood on the other side, the scales of a black dragon faintly appearing across his body, proving that he had long been ready for battle.

Yet he remained motionless, staring at Imu's figure as the cold sneer on his face had long since vanished.

He licked his lips and said in a low voice,

"This woman... can actually make my body go cold?"

For a moment, Jin An, Whitebeard, and Loki did not make a move. They silently watched Imu. The oppressive atmosphere made even the air seem viscous, as though the slightest movement would shatter heaven and earth in this confrontation.

Imu's figure was slender and tall. Her black robe fluttered without wind, as though invisible energy surrounded her.

Every step she took felt as if she were treading on the battlefield's soul,