As they cautiously approach the source of the tumultuous sound, the elders' conversation becomes a mix of concern and intrigue. The path they tread is shrouded in the ambiance of the third floor's peculiar landscape, with its floating islands and the enigmatic mist that seems to veil secrets untold.
Elder Han, striding with a confidence born of millennia in cultivation, leads the pack, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the commotion. "Let's be careful," he advises, his voice low but clear. "This place is full of unknowns."
The weakest among them, Elder Qin, feels a shiver run down his spine as the clash becomes more pronounced, the sounds of battle echoing through the air. "Hey, is this alright?" he asks, his voice tinged with unease. "Just the sound of clash alone made the hair of my body stand up."