As the royal family's enshrined retainers, they knew every last one of the imperial household's countless dirty little secrets.
For instance, a crown prince might want to ascend the throne as soon as possible, so he would personally kill his own father and claim the imperial seat.
Such things were hardly unusual in the imperial family. About once every hundred years, a "filial son" like that would emerge.
Of course, where there were successes, there were failures. Plenty had been outmatched and killed by their own fathers instead.
In any case, underlings like them had neither the power nor the right to interfere in such matters.
Their immediate superiors, those few Advanced Soul Douluo, were the ones who decided which side to take.
Unfortunately, those thoughts had barely lingered in the retainers' minds for a few seconds before bewilderment set in.
What Tang San said next left every one of them stunned.
"Everyone guarding this place must belong to Spirit Hall, wouldn't you say, Your Highness?"
Huh? Spirit Hall's people were here?
Where were they? Why hadn't we seen them?
Wait!
Was this little scumbag talking about us?
Fuck!
He actually dared accuse us of belonging to Spirit Hall? Was this little scumbag sick in the head?
Letting someone sick in the head treat His Majesty?
Wouldn't he make His Majesty sick even if he wasn't already?
Sure enough, His Highness was right. We couldn't let this little scumbag in to treat His Majesty.
Having pieced everything together, the retainers flew into a humiliated rage. Their gazes toward Tang San grew increasingly hostile, and every one of them wanted to kill him.
Naturally, Tang San sensed the murderous intent hidden in their gazes.
But he gave it little thought. Instead, he felt smug, believing that these Spirit Hall Soul Masters