Fighting for treasures, waiting for the moment to strike! (Please keep reading and vote!)

"We have waited bitterly for the Myriad Saints Treasure Land for hundreds of thousands of years. Our sect has declined, and this Myriad Saints Treasure Land rightfully belongs to me!"

Just then, a mighty shout rang out from the sky, majestic and fiercely bold, like an ancient god of war clad in armor.

As the words fell, a heroic, imposing figure appeared before everyone. He wore golden sacred armor, radiant with vigor and awash in golden light, with long golden hair flowing over his shoulders.

He held a Heavenly Halberd that gleamed as though forged from gold. Even a casual sweep revealed its terrifying destructive power, striking fear into the onlookers and leaving them unwilling to face him.

"Has the ruler of the Setting Sun Dynasty come as well? It certainly is lively today."

Shrouded in black robes, the Netherworld Sect Master spoke eerily. His voice alone made everyone tremble. He was far too dangerous, like a malicious ghost that had crawled out of hell.

"Since you have all come for the Myriad Saints Treasure Land, there is nothing more to say."

"Let us fight to the death. Only the victor deserves the Myriad Saints Treasure Land!"

The stooped old man with snow-white hair and beard spoke. Though his back was bent, his eyes were sharp as a hawk's as he stared straight at everyone present.

His presence was overwhelming, as though he feared none of them.

He was the patriarch of the North Pole Holy Land. With little life remaining, he had buried himself within Divine Source and would only step forward when his sect faced a crisis.

Yet today, he had emerged solely for the Myriad Saints Treasure Land. That alone showed how important it was—it could be called their very lifeline.

After all... countless ages of accumulation