The three men froze the moment they saw him.
The Patriarch stood at the center — Lin Tao, head of the Lin Royal Clan, mid-stage Core Formation cultivator with twenty years of unquestioned command behind those cold, sharp eyes. Gold-trimmed crimson silk draped his broad shoulders. A ceremonial sword hung at his left hip, jade-handled, sharp enough to split a boulder. His beard was neatly trimmed. His posture screamed 'patriarch'.
Flanking him were Elder Shen and Elder Wu — the clan's two strongest cultivators outside the Patriarch himself. Gray-haired, hard-faced, their robes bearing the clan's silver phoenix crest. Between the three of them, enough condensed qi to flatten a minor sect's outer hall.
All three pairs of eyes locked onto Cang.
Then crawled past him — past his bare shoulder, past the gap in the half-open chamber door — and found the scene inside.
