The low hum of conversation in the hall fell silent for a moment at the question, which dripped with killing intent.
From the corners and behind the screens, curious and amused gazes drifted over, all settling on Zhao Hao, who had just come upstairs.
Beside Zhao Hao, Ao Chun, the Dragon Race steward, acted as though he had heard nothing. Eyes lowered, he wore the look of a man who was merely showing the way.
Zhao Hao stopped.
He glanced at Ao Chun, who was playing deaf, and understood.
The Dragon Race held this auction to bring guests from all sides together and profit in peace. But as a great race, they would not offend another prominent power for the sake of a Rogue Cultivator.
His gaze passed over the translucent, cloud-patterned screen in the center and landed on the speaker.
There were two of them, a man and a woman.
Both wore luxurious pale-blue robes. Water spiritual energy swirled so thickly around them that even the surrounding air seemed to grow damp.
The woman was softly beautiful and had reached the Mahayana Middle Stage. She held a white jade wine cup, her expression cool, indifferent to the commotion around her.
The man seated opposite her had spoken.
At the Mahayana Early Stage, he had a sinister face. He toyed with his wine cup while his deep-blue eyes fixed on Zhao Hao, openly challenging him.
The Sea King Race? Zhao Hao thought.
Among the hundred Mahayana old monsters who had surrounded him outside Heavenly Cauldron Palace, a dozen or so had carried this same aura. These two, however, showed none of the Sea King Race's outward traits.
When Zhao Hao only looked at him without answering, the man's sneer deepened, and he raised his voice.
"What, gone mute? I'm talking