Seven days later, a meeting that could be called the highest-level gathering on the Dou Qi Continent was convened within the Little Pill Tower.
Among those attending, even the weakest were Dou Shengs.
Upon seeing the figure before them clearly, the two clan chiefs of the Flame Clan and Lei Clan—both late Eight-Star Dou Sheng powerhouses—were left utterly dumbfounded.
"X-X-Xiao Xuan!" Yan Jin's entire right hand shook violently, as though he had Parkinson's.
Lei Ying was even more speechless, his gaze darting about with a guilty look.
Xiao Xuan snorted coldly. "It has indeed been a long time, you two. After my death, the Xiao Tribe truly received quite a bit of care from your clans."
Back then, after the Xiao Tribe's downfall, the Soul Clan still had a late Nine-Star Dou Sheng powerhouse, along with countless experts within the clan. How could the Flame Clan and Lei Clan have dared to declare war on the Soul Clan?
Instead, the Xiao Tribe, which had lost nearly all its Dou Sheng combat strength, became lambs awaiting slaughter, fish on the chopping block.
Although the Ancient Clan took the largest share, the Flame Clan and Lei Clan naturally would not let go of the remaining benefits.
It could be said that the Xiao Tribe's later decline, their gradual migration to a remote little city on the edge of the Northwest Continent, was absolutely due in part to the Flame Clan and Lei Clan.
Xiao Jin noticed the disturbance here and immediately stepped forward, patting Xiao Xuan on the shoulder.
"Senior Xiao Xuan, don't get angry. I know you're unhappy, but today's meeting is rather important. You can't possibly let two important attendees die on the spot before it even begins, can you?"
Xiao Jin appeared to be consoling Xiao Xuan, but every