After entering Ancient Saint City, Xiao Yan and the other did not show themselves much in public. Instead, they quickly found a side room and began recovering from the exhaustion of their journey.
Because the Xiao Clan's identity had been exposed, they naturally drew the attention of every major faction along the way. Even some deeply seasoned old monsters had a few obscure gleams in their eyes when they looked at Xiao Yan.
One could well imagine just how much influence the name of the Xiao Clan had once held in the Central Continent.
Of course, a name was just a name. A clan that had vanished for nearly a thousand years, no matter how glorious its history, was now nothing more than an obscure little family, utterly lacking the foundation to match that reputation.
Those invited into the Ancient Clan were all shrewd veterans. They knew perfectly well that the so-called Xiao-Ancient Alliance had long since become an empty shell. Other than allowing the Ancient Clan to rightfully monopolize the Heavenly Tomb slots, it no longer held any binding force.
All the bustle under heaven was for profit; all comings and goings were for gain.
The Xiao Clan now had neither benefits to offer nor strength to speak of. To the Ancient Clan, it was naturally all harm and no good. It would not even be an exaggeration to say that some within the clan regarded it as a thorn in their side.
Under such circumstances, Xiao Yan, as the heir of the Xiao Clan, had not chosen to hide his name and identity. Instead, he had suddenly appeared in the sight of the Eight Clans with great fanfare. Such a move was clearly worthy of deeper consideration.
It was no exaggeration to say that Xiao Yan was now