A flood dragon was the king and overlord among ferocious beasts, possessing a formidable bloodline and the innate majesty of dragons.
Though far inferior to a true dragon, it was still enough to suppress the strange insects they had raised.
Just as rabbits in the jungle inevitably feared fierce tigers and kept far away from them, it stemmed from the gap in bloodline and rank.
Of course, the flood dragon's appearance was not the only thing that had shocked the two men.
The fact that Meng Zhao had taken such a precious and rare flood dragon as a spirit pet gave them even more to ponder.
For a time, the lives of those legendary figures who had left their mark in bold strokes across the river of history surfaced in both their minds. The reason they had become legends was because they possessed qualities ordinary people simply did not have.
For instance, transcendent talent untouched by worldly dust, profound blessings born of fortunate encounters, and luck that turned calamity into auspiciousness.
Meng Zhao possessed all of these, and he even had a flood dragon's protection. He was comparable to those saints and sages to whom qilin came to submit and phoenixes gathered about.
His future achievements would be beyond measure, and those who followed him would surely gain immense benefits as well.
In that case, did that not mean the two of them also had boundless prospects ahead?
Niu Dali in particular even found himself thinking that it would not matter much even if Meng Zhao were not a successor of the Heavenly Demon Palace.
Of course, the thought was fleeting, but it still showed just how deeply even someone as stubborn as him had been shaken.
After releasing Little Nine, Meng Zhao sat quietly in his great chair, utterly