In mere moments, the cave was filled with cultivators, each one eyeing the dragon's heart with a mix of greed and trepidation. However, no one dared to approach it carelessly. Two reasons held them back: first - it was uncertain if it was safe to approach the dragon heart, and second - whoever seized it would instantly become the target of every other cultivator present.

However, in every crowd, there are always those who are willing to risk everything for a chance at greatness. How could they resist when the prize before them promised a power that could change their fate forever, perhaps even rule the world?

From the gathered cultivators, a man stepped forward. His build was formidable, muscles rippling beneath his robes as he exuded confidence and arrogance. His gaze swept across the crowd, challenging anyone who dared to defy him. "I am Lian Zhen," he declared, his voice booming in the cave. "Core disciple of the Dragon Fist Sect, the third-ranked sect in this world. If you know what's good for you, you'll give me some face. Unless, of course, you wish to make an enemy of my sect."

Listening to Lian Zhen's bold proclamation, Jian Wu couldn't help but smile mockingly. Lian Zhen's bravado might intimidate the weaker cultivators, but those from the top ten sects wouldn't be swayed so easily. After all, the power of these sects was nearly equal—no one could confidently claim superiority over the others.

As Lian Zhen began to stride confidently toward the dragon's heart, the crowd parted, but not out of fear. They knew he couldn't escape with the heart, not with so many eyes watching. Besides, everyone wanted to see if it was safe to approach the dragon heart or not.

All eyes were fixed on Lian Zhen as he drew closer.

Six steps remained.

Five steps.

Four steps.

Three—

"Aah!"

Just as Lian Zhen was about to take the next step, a bluish-red flame erupted from the heart, engulfing him in searing heat. His flesh began to char and blister as he thrashed in agony. "Aaah, save me! Save me! I can't extinguish this fire!" he screamed, as the flames continued to consume him mercilessly.

His cries for help echoed in the cave, but no one dared to move. Fear rooted them in their place. Lian Zhen was a peak Origin Realm cultivator, a realm that Eli Shan hadn't even reached in the outside world. And yet, here he was, utterly helpless against the fire. The realization struck everyone like a thunderbolt—if someone as powerful as Lian Zhen couldn't defend himself, what chance did any of them have? Even those who might have the strength to save him hesitated. No one dared to approach the dragon's heart carelessly, fearing they would meet the same grisly fate as Lian Zhen.

Slowly, Lian Zhen's voice faded into silence, leaving behind only the crackling of the flames that had consumed him. The remaining cultivators stared at his charred remains with a mix of horror and disbelief.

"W-What is this fire?" someone whispered, his voice trembling.

"We can't even get close to it," another muttered, fear lacing his words.

"How are we supposed to take the dragon heart? I-I'm out," a panicked voice called out, shattering the fragile silence.

A wave of panic spread through the weaker cultivators. They had come seeking glory, but now all they saw was death. Many of them turned and fled, unwilling to risk their lives for a prize that seemed impossible to claim. After all, with the likes of Jian Wu and Wen Lun present, their chances were already slim to none.

When the dust finally settled, only a handful of people remained, their gazes steely with determination. Most of them were the cultivators from the top ten sects, those who knew the risks but still craved the power that the dragon heart promised.

Jian Wu, standing at the forefront, studied the dragon heart with a serious expression. His eyes narrowed as he analyzed the situation, and then he whispered, "No one below the Emperor Realm can touch it."

A murmur rippled through the remaining cultivators, their fear growing. Another figure from the top ten sects stepped forward, nodding in agreement. "He's right. Only those enveloped in Emperor Qi can safely approach it. Otherwise, we'll end up like that Lian Zhen."

The realization hit everyone like a cold wave, and gasps filled the cave. The Emperor Realm was a level of power few in the world had achieved. Even among the top ten sects, there were only a handful—perhaps eight or nine Emperor Realm cultivators in each sect. And it wasn't as if they could afford to send all their strongest into this deadly cave.

As the weight of the truth settled in, it became clear that most of the cultivators present had no hope of claiming the dragon heart. The very air seemed to grow heavier with the despair of those who realized their limitations.

"I'm done with standing still," Jian Wu said, turning his head toward Wen Lun and giving him a nod.

Wen Lun understood immediately and nodded back. Both of them locked their eyes on the pulsating heart, and with a swift step forward, they disappeared from everyone's view.

"Huh? Stop them!" an Emperor Realm cultivator spotted their movement and shouted in alarm.

"Don't let them reach the heart! Attack together!" another bellowed, launching a mystical punch technique toward Jian Wu.

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Jian Wu turned, and with a casual wave of his hand, the attack dissipated effortlessly. But the reprieve was short-lived. Soon, more attacks came hurtling toward him. No one wanted to be left behind. With Jian Wu and Wen Lun as the strongest among them, if they secured the heart, it would be nearly impossible to snatch it back. Driven by desperation, everyone unleashed their mystical techniques in unison.

"Brother Jian Wu, do you think you can fight against all the elite disciples of the top sects?" one of the attackers sneered.

Jian Wu grinned, his expression a mix of amusement and arrogance. "Are you dumb? Of course, I can fight against all of you. That’s exactly why I’m going for the dragon heart, isn’t it?" he quipped, effortlessly deflecting each incoming attack with his sword as if they were nothing more than a nuisance.

"Y-You... We'll show you your true place today!"

The cultivators launched a relentless barrage of attacks. Standing amidst the storm of techniques, Jian Wu merely smirked, his sword flashing as he countered each one with impeccable precision and lightning speed.

Standing aside in the safe spot, Eli Shan watched in awe. His brother Jian Wu was truly formidable! An ordinary Emperor could never achieve such a feat! For the first time, Eli Shan felt genuine awe for someone other than his father.

Jian Wu continued to fend off the onslaught, creating an opening for Wen Lun to make his move. The others realized what Jian Wu was planning, but no matter how fiercely they attacked, Jian Wu's unique sword techniques effortlessly neutralized their efforts. Even Eli Shan had never seen such mastery in swordsmanship.

"Everyone, don't hold back! If we don't give it our all, none of us will get our hands on the dragon heart! Use your strongest weapons and techniques!" one cultivator urged, desperation edging his voice.

Nodding in grim determination, the others prepared their most powerful techniques.

"Dragon Fist!"

"Freedom Spear!"

"Formation of the Chain!"

One after another, they unleashed their strongest attacks, holding nothing back.

As the overwhelming attacks surged toward him, Jian Wu’s expression grew serious for the first time. "It seems I can't hold back any longer," he muttered, his voice low but resonant. Gripping his sword tightly, he took a deliberate step forward. In an instant, the air around him crackled with energy, and out of nowhere, millions of swords materialized, hovering ominously behind him like a celestial army awaiting orders.

A menacing sword aura began to emerge from Jian Wu, its presence oppressive and suffused with killing intent. What happened next stunned even Eli Shan. The countless swords behind Jian Wu began to melt, their gleaming edges dissolving into pure, concentrated energy that fed into the sword aura. Suddenly the strength of the sword aura increased many times, becoming so overwhelming that it obliterated the incoming techniques with a mere touch, as if they were nothing more than fragile illusions.

But Jian Wu wasn't finished yet. The sword aura pulsed, shifting in color as it turned a deep, ominous red. Bolts of lightning arced through it, and the low rumble of thunder echoed within the cave. The destructive power contained within the aura was palpable, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. "Is that truly possible?" Eli Shan's eyes widened in disbelief as he beheld the terrifying beauty of Jian Wu's sword technique.

With a simple wave of his hand, the crimson aura surged forward like an unstoppable tidal wave. It tore through the battlefield, devouring everything in its path. The incoming attacks, which had seemed formidable moments before, were reduced to nothing, their power dissipating in an instant. The bodies of the emperors who had dared to stand in Jian Wu's way were obliterated, their forms vanishing into the ether without so much as a scream. They didn't even have time to understand how they died.

When the dust finally settled, only a handful of cultivators remained, spared by their cautious position at the rear. Those who had dared to stand at the front were gone, their lives snuffed out by the overwhelming power of Jian Wu.

As the survivors looked ahead, a palpable fear gripped them. Their legs trembled uncontrollably, and they turned their gaze to Jian Wu, eyes wide with a mix of dread and disbelief. The aura of invincibility he exuded was undeniable.

In that moment, a single thought echoed through the minds of every cultivator present: "Jian Wu's reputation isn't built on rumors."

Yet, despite his imposing presence, they could sense that Jian Wu was exhausted, the immense toll of his technique evident in the subtle weariness that now clung to him. Who wouldn’t be tired after unleashing such a powerful attack? He had single-handedly annihilated the techniques of over fifty cultivators and slaughtered most of the emperors with a single, devastating sword strike. To their eyes, no one else in the world could have accomplished what Jian Wu had done today.

But awe and respect alone couldn't deter them—not when the dragon heart was within reach. If it had been any other treasure, perhaps they would have fled, some out of fear of Jian Wu, others out of respect for his unmatched prowess. But this was no ordinary treasure. In the presence of the dragon heart, nothing else mattered.

Resolving to seize the opportunity, they steeled themselves and launched another assault, driven by the insatiable greed that had brought them to this deadly confrontation.

Amid the chaos, Eli Shan's gaze shifted, catching sight of Wen Lun. Despite the barrage of attacks, Wen Lun didn't even flinch or glance back. It was as if he was utterly confident that no matter what the others tried, they would never breach the unyielding wall known as Jian Wu. This kind of trust, Eli Shan realized, wasn't something that could be forged overnight. It was a bond built through countless battles and unwavering loyalty. A small smile tugged at the corners of Eli Shan's lips. "I want comrades like that."

From the moment Jian Wu and Wen Lun had moved, only ten breaths of time had passed. While Jian Wu held the line against the relentless onslaught, Wen Lun had already approached the dragon heart. With swift precision, he retrieved a box-shaped artifact from his storage, which flew into the air, enveloped the dragon heart, and then shrank, sealing the precious treasure inside.

As the cultivators continued their assault on Jian Wu, their eyes widened in shock when they saw the dragon heart vanish before their very eyes.

"Senior brother, run!" Wen Lun called out, retrieving the artifact as it floated back to him. In the next instant, he vanished.

Jian Wu, without a moment's hesitation, disappeared from his spot and reappeared beside Eli Shan. "Let’s go."

Eli Shan nodded firmly. "Yes, brother."

The two of them vanished as well, moving toward the cave entrance with blinding speed.

"Catch them at any cost!" one of the emperors roared, but the three of them were so fast that the remaining cultivators quickly lost hope of catching them.

Just as despair settled in and they thought they would never get the heart, a glimmer of hope reignited in their eyes as they spotted Jian Wu, Wen Lun, and Eli Shan at the cave's entrance. However, that glimmer quickly turned to cold, paralyzing fear when they saw who else was standing there.

As Eli Shan and his companions were about to exit the cave, they were interrupted by a group of shadowy figures entering from the outside. Their dark clothes fluttered ominously in the air, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods, and each of them wielded a different, fearsome weapon. The air grew heavy with their malevolent presence.

Jian Wu's expression darkened as he whispered, "The Shadow Clan."