The pressure on Chen Cangsheng abruptly intensified. Not only did he have to face Lin Jin's relentless attacks from every direction, but he also had to guard against attacks he could neither see through nor touch.
More importantly, he could feel that Lin Jin's strength had already surpassed the limits of the transcendent stage realm peak. The bloodline power contained in those purple eyes made even him, a Sword Saint who had entered the image realm, feel a trace of apprehension.
Meanwhile, deep within the Su Clan Ancestral Grounds, three figures hid in the Ancient Cypress Grove behind the Ancestral Hall.
Su Wanqian, the Su Clan Ancestor, leaned on a cane. His aged face showed little expression, but his grip on the cane tightened without his noticing.
Zhao Yuanzu, the Zhao Clan Ancestor, stood with his hands behind his back. His gaze pierced the layers of barriers between the ancestral grounds and the Manor, fixed on the young figure in the square.
Zhao Ming stood behind the two, his hand trembling slightly around the Thunder Abyss Silver Spear. He should have been facing Lin Jin at the wedding, defending the Zhao Clan's reputation and his dignity as Su Qianxue's fiancé.
But the two ancestors had held him here, saying they needed to wait for an opportunity. He knew what they were waiting for: for those outside to wear Lin Jin down to utter exhaustion, then they would strike and capture him in the name of defending the dignity of the great clans. That way, neither the Paranormal Bureau nor the Demon Suppression Bureau could object.
Now, however, solemn expressions appeared in both ancestors' eyes as they stood at the edge of the ancestral grounds, watching the earthshaking duel in the square.
They had thought that, however strong Lin Jin might