The atmosphere was a little awkward, but these men had spent years living by the blade and didn't have much dignity to begin with. Awkward or not, they soon managed to lighten the mood.
Someone laughed and said, "Are we worrying about the wrong things? Who cares what they're auctioning off? What's it got to do with us? Even if they have the formula, it has nothing to do with us. We're here to work hard for other people and earn a little honest pay. The big affairs of the Surface World are none of our concern."
"Exactly. We're farmers. We shouldn't worry about what the emperor's having for lunch or whether he needs a golden carrying pole."
Everyone raised their cups, laughing and joking as they put the awkward subject behind them.
Still, the news had left them deeply unsettled.
It had been who knew how many years since the Underground Race first plotted to return to the Surface World—at least a thousand. Why had there been so much thunder, but so little rain?
The biggest obstacle was the Surface World's rejection of them.
After evolving over several eras, the people of the Underground Race had grown accustomed to the living conditions underground. The Surface World rejected them strongly. Ordinary members of the Underground Race couldn't adapt to it for long. After spending more than a few hours exposed to the Surface World, they would begin to suffer obvious adverse effects.
At best, they would fall ill. At worst, they would die.
This intense rejection was the biggest obstacle preventing the Underground Race from carrying out its plan to return.
The Treasure Tree Clan, however, was renowned among the Ten Great Golden Clans for its adaptability. Their bloodline talents allowed them to adjust and survive in all kinds of