Under the gloomy skies, a group of resolute cultivators embarked on a mission towards the formidable mountain. Clad in their battle robes, their eyes burned with a fervent determination, ready to face the impending battle against their sworn enemies, the savage orc tribe. Each step they took resonated with unwavering resolve, their hearts resolute to either emerge victorious or meet their demise on this treacherous path.
Amidst the charged atmosphere, the old sect master stood at the forefront, her weathered face etched with wisdom and concern. Her voice, though gentle, carried the weight of a lifetime of experience and hardship. "I know this mission isn't going to be easy, my disciples. But I have faith in your abilities. Return to us unharmed," she implored, her voice trembling with a mixture of hope and apprehension.
