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On the stage, the white-robed elder named Jiang Dingnan still maintained an attacking stance, his withered hands clenched into fists. His eagle-like eyes, far from being clouded as one would expect of an old man, shone with a daunting brilliance instead.
Chu Mo glanced at Fan Gao, who seemed poised to speak but stopped himself. This was the first time Chu Mo had seen this strong man in such disarray. In Chu Mo's eyes, as the leader of his bodyguard team, this man should be an incredibly formidable figure, unbeatable even against dozens or hundreds, but at this moment, just one punch from the elder had dealt him a severe blow. Fan Gao now, even an ordinary person might easily knock him down.
The gap between a half-step Grandmaster and a true Great Grandmaster in martial arts was so vast.
Ignoring Fan Gao's complex expression, Chu Mo's gaze returned to the old man on the stage.
