"We are all people from different sects who have gathered together to explore this Ancient Battlefield. We cannot reveal our specific identities and origins to you, but there are indeed quite a few others scattered throughout this Ancient Battlefield."
It was still that charming woman who stepped forward to answer. Immediately after, a man with a deep scar across his face walked out and said,
"Young brother, it seems you have also come to explore the Ancient Battlefield. This place is extraordinarily dangerous, with perils lurking everywhere. Traveling alone is simply too dangerous. Why not act together with us? What do you think?"
Before he could finish, another person's expression changed drastically. Seemingly quite displeased, he said,
"Old Qin, we do not even know this person's identity or background. How can we accept him so easily? What if this is a trap?"
Right afterward, someone else came out to dissuade them, as though accepting Meng Zhao into their little group would bring some enormous disaster and absolutely could not be done. At the same time, several others stepped out to argue back, appearing to be exceptionally kind-hearted people who enjoyed supporting the younger generation.
Thus, the eight of them actually launched into an almost childish argument right before Meng Zhao's eyes. To him, it was utterly laughable.
If he had truly been some young greenhorn, freshly emerged into the world and ignorant of its ways, he might really have been deceived by these old fellows. He might have believed they were genuinely disputing whether to accept him, then developed a subtle sense of guilt, so that once they reached a conclusion, he would naturally join them.
However, Meng Zhao was not merely a young man. No—even setting aside his mental age, judging only by the many experiences he had gone