At that moment, looking at the arrogant riders from the Aristocratic Clans, Cang Linzu couldn't help recalling what had happened outside Mingshan City in the Northern Frontier, when those people from the Tianyi Demonic Sect had searched for the Child of Calamity.
Those riders from the Demonic Cult and these riders serving the Aristocratic Clans of Shenjing had said the same things and held exactly the same ideas.
Use the smallest cost to obtain the finest seeds.
No, there was still a difference.
Cang Linzu silently shook his head.
The Demonic Cult's tone... Perhaps they had needed to put on an act. After all, their aim had been recruitment, not simple enslavement, so they had sounded gentler. Their words had even held a hint of enticement and expectation. They hadn't seemed quite so much like a great clan or Aristocratic Clan.
But the tone of these Aristocratic Clans from Shenjing—their lofty air, their refusal to treat people as people, and their arrogance, so blatant they couldn't even be bothered to disguise it—was unmistakably genuine.
Impostors could never learn true arrogance, because they still cared about reason. They still worried whether their words and actions could persuade others. Their posturing was deliberate.
But true masters, nobles born with silver spoons in their mouths, had been born above everyone else. Their very existence was lofty, and they would never stop to wonder whether their actions made sense.
As his thoughts turned, Cang Linzu had already stepped forward.
Frowning, he swept his gaze over the haughty riders before settling on their leader. In a low voice, he asked, "What are you doing here?"
The rider in charge was impatiently whipping the ground with his riding crop, driving away several refugees who had come too close.
At the sound of the challenge, his expression