Jiang Qi walked at the forefront, holding the torch high, the vigilant glow in his eyes never fading.
As he delved deeper into the cave, he sensed something unusual.
The surrounding air seemed to grow heavier, as if an invisible pressure was squeezing from all directions, making it hard to breathe.
Even as a powerful martial artist, he felt a hint of unease.
The tunnel of the cave alternated between wide and narrow, and the deeper he ventured, the stranger the aura became, as if something hidden was watching them from the darkness.
Still, aside from the cave's unique echoes, there were no signs of life, nor traces of the legendary treasures.
As time passed, the passage began to narrow gradually; the road ahead seemed to stretch endlessly, yet there was still nothing noteworthy to be found.
Gradually, Jiang Qi's patience began to wear thin.
His expression grew increasingly grim, a faint anger visible on his forehead.
