Several elderly men arrived, each with a profound aura and dressed in luxurious Daoist robes of different styles. They were clearly elders of top sects in the area.
Perhaps they had often come here to discuss the Dao, or perhaps they had been alarmed by the disturbance at the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion. Either way, they now looked at Xuanyuan with scrutiny and suspicion.
"Where is the Heavenly Secrets Old Man? What did you discuss with him that made him activate the mountain-sealing formation?"
Another elder barked in a low voice. His sword intent was chillingly fierce, making it clear he was no one to trifle with.
They couldn't see through Xuanyuan. They could only sense that he was unfathomably deep.
But with strength in numbers and the prestige of their sects behind them, they weren't afraid.
In their eyes, the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion's sudden lockdown had to be connected to this mysterious man.
Whatever the case, they had to get to the bottom of it. This was a tremendous opportunity—and a story worth telling.
Xuanyuan didn't even turn fully toward them.
His gaze remained fixed on that stretch of empty space. He merely glanced at the "ants" surrounding him.
After learning he'd been treated as a tool, his patience had worn down to its limit.
Now, he was annoyed.
"Get lost."
The single word left his mouth.
It held no Spiritual Power, nor was it imbued with any Dao resonance.
It was like someone shooing away a stray dog blocking the road.
The elders erupted in fury. As powerful figures in their own right, when had they ever suffered such humiliation?
"Impudent!"
"Brat! Seize him first. We can question him afterward!"
The sword cultivator was the most hot-tempered of them. With an angry shout, the long sword on his back