The sky trembled from the sheer density of energy, as if nature itself was terrified by the presence of these ancient beings. Storms filled with lightning swirled above the battlefield, and the ground beneath the warriors cracked. The ancestors, one by one, awakened from their long slumber.
From the Ling Clan's side, Ling Weitian—one of the clan's oldest members—appeared in the sky. His long robe, adorned with glowing golden lines, trembled with currents of energy. His piercing eyes, reminiscent of countless years of rule and war, shone brightly.
On the other side, Yun Taizhu, the great ancestor of the Yun Clan, appeared along with several other ancestors of his family. His dark and imposing aura was a reminder of years of ruling from the shadows.
The two groups stood in the air without immediately attacking each other, and for a few moments, only silence reigned. A heavy silence, born from thousands of years of rivalry and enmity.
Ling Weitian spoke in a calm but powerful voice:
