The cold, eerie wind howled and spiraled across the giant chessboard plaza. The enormous black and white chess pieces hurled by the two stone statues bore down with mountain-heavy force, already close at hand. Behind him, a torrent formed from countless stone pieces pursued relentlessly. Razor-sharp blasts of air tore through the atmosphere, gouging furrows of varying depths even into the hard blackstone beneath their feet. Lin Chen was trapped beneath layers of killing intent, with no path forward or back. Every inch of space around him had been locked down by the enemy's power, as though he had truly become a chess piece on the board with nowhere to escape.
Several cultivators outside the field watched with their hearts in their throats. The gray-robed elder circulated all his spiritual power and repeatedly unleashed several heavy palm strikes, trying to scatter the incoming wind blades and rubble so he could rush over to help. Yet the chessboard formation grew ever more frenzied in its operation. The green light of the Game Patterns spread across the sky, generating wave upon wave of attacks. The moment one wave was blocked, another followed close behind. He charged forward several times, only to be held fast in the middle of the plaza, always several yards away from the hall doors. He could only watch helplessly as Lin Chen fell into a desperate situation.
"Be careful, Brother Lin!" The young cultivator gripped his longsword tightly, his voice full of anxiety. He tried several times to break through, only to be driven back by flying stone shards. Cold sweat covered his brow. The others wore equally grave expressions. The spiritual light of their artifacts flashed continuously as they did their utmost to hold their ground, but they could not get anywhere near the center of the