Grim stands still, his gaze locked on the towering figure of the robot. Though the aura it emits resembles that of a middle-stage Heavenly Realm cultivator, the threat he feels from it is far beyond that. His instincts scream at him to turn back, but he steadies himself. The rewards, the allure of a saint-grade artifact, are too great to ignore. He's faced worse before—or so he tells himself.
His hand instinctively moves to the artifact hanging under his robes, the last treasure given to him by his Majesty. It's a trump card, something that could turn the tide of any battle, but he knows it comes with a heavy cost. He'll use it only if absolutely necessary.
"We fight," Grim declares, his voice unwavering despite the knot of dread tightening in his chest. "This thing may be strong, but so are we."
Zhen Xue nods, though the strain is clear on his face. "We take it down quickly, before it can fully activate. Hit it with everything we have."
