In the quiet valley, the formation's patterns lay dormant.

After a high-intensity day and night of continuous grinding, the tense atmosphere suddenly relaxed. Everyone was utterly exhausted, losing any trace of their once superior demeanor.

Baili Canfeng no longer had his usual elegant and carefree scholar's appearance. He sat cross-legged on the ground, his back so sore he couldn't straighten up.

He felt completely drained of mana, lacking even the strength to lift a hand. He could only smile wryly, gasping for breath, his tone full of helplessness and lamentation: "Brother Lin, this isn't a Dragon Locking Formation; it's clearly a purgatory formation designed to torture people! I've been cultivating demonic arts for years, ventured through countless perilous forbidden grounds, and never have I been this exhausted."