The Dead Ling Quan Was Still Chasing Him?

Seeing Xiao Yan and Mo Yu surrounded by the Black Mist Army, the onlookers' expressions shifted slightly. Almost instinctively, they kept their distance from both sides, afraid of being caught in the crossfire.

Those who had been full of praise for Xiao Yan moments ago turned deathly pale and instantly burrowed into the crowd, their smugness from earlier nowhere to be seen.

No one had expected that, given Xiao Yan's status, he would actually have formed such a grudge with the Ancient Clan—and even drawn out a Commander in person!

"You intend to detain the two of us without any evidence. The Ancient Clan truly has quite the authority."

Standing amid the encircling troops, Xiao Yan's expression remained unchanged, without the slightest hint of nervousness. He said calmly, "As the head of the Eight Ancient Clans, is this your way of treating guests?"

When he mentioned "the head of the Eight Clans," Xiao Yan seemed to place particular emphasis on the words, as though they carried some inscrutable meaning.

At that, Yang Hao chuckled. With a wave of his hand, a heavy silver spear etched with dark patterns flashed into existence and crashed down before the city gates like an iron wall.

"Hehe, since you know that my Ancient Clan is the head of the Eight Clans, where did you get the courage to come here alone?"

He casually glanced at the old servant in splendid robes behind Xiao Yan, amusement flickering in his eyes as he smiled. "For one to enjoy the treatment reserved for guests, one must first qualify as a guest, no?"

The moment those words left his mouth, the crowd gathered nearby erupted into commotion. Shock immediately surfaced on their faces as they looked at Yang Hao.

The champion of the Pill Gathering, the Young Pavilion