Lin Ting had become an immortal more than two thousand years ago. His strength now rivaled that of a rogue immortal who had survived five tribulations, and his cultivation was far higher than Ling Tian's. In his mind, it should have been easy to see through Ling Tian's cultivation and tell whether his spiritual energy was exhausted. But Ling Tian kept fighting, which made him suspicious. Remembering Lingyun's unusual nature, he began to doubt his own judgment even more.
"We spent over a thousand years with Lingyun and never saw through him. In the end, he even survived being surrounded by countless experts, including Shangguan Longyin. To outsiders, that should have been utterly impossible." At the memory, Lin Lei's face darkened like still water. "We can't judge the son he raised by ordinary standards, either. Maybe the boy really does have something unusual about him!"
"Hmph. Whatever's unusual about him, he's still only a person." Lin Ting snorted. He glanced at their own people, killing intent surging in his eyes. "We still have one or two thousand disciples who haven't taken the field. I refuse to believe Ling Tian can keep going. Hey, sealing techniques consume a lot of Mental Power. There's no way he can win."
Lin Lei didn't question Lin Ting's words. He nodded, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes. "Hmph. So what if Thunderclap Pavilion loses face today? As long as Lingxiao Pavilion is wiped out, it'll all be worth it. Given how fast our pavilion is developing, just give us a few thousand more years and we'll be on a par with Ten Thousand Swords Cliff. Then let's see who dares look down on us—or who even remembers today's humiliation."
At that, the gloom on Lin Ting's face eased. He looked at Lin Ming. "Big