Of course, there were signs of it, but only signs. The local powerful clans still held a certain advantage of home ground. At this point, most people merely harbored thoughts of befriending Meng Zhao for future plans. As for now, it had not reached the point of bowing their heads and swearing allegiance.
Even their unanimous support for putting Meng Zhao forward to face off against the Beitang Imperial Clan and contend for command of the Prefectural Army was mostly born of a desire to watch tigers fight from the mountain. Meng Zhao's foundations were deep and his confidence ample; giving him some assistance was enough. There was no need for them to charge into battle themselves.
Faced with this trend, still covert yet gradually becoming clear, the Ding Family Head's expression turned exceedingly ugly.
But Dragon City, whom he had put forward, was worlds apart from Meng Zhao. The gap was not in ability or martial arts, but in family background and status.
Then again, who could blame the Meng Family's ancestors for being formidable enough to follow the Great Ancestor in building his empire? As for the Long Family's ancestors, though they bore an astonishingly impressive surname, they had merely been ordinary commoners, tilling the fields between the ridges.
People were always talking about unfairness, saying Meng Zhao had only surpassed Dragon City by relying on his family background. But that was utter bullshit. Whatever the reasons, it was an objective reality. If you lacked the ability, then shut your mouth and behave.
What Dragon City possessed was already beyond comparison with ordinary martial artists. It was simply that beyond one mountain lay another, higher mountain.
Still, reason was reason. The Ding Family Head remained deeply displeased, and a hint of unwillingness inevitably seeped into his words as