From the elevated platform, Elder Liam shot forward like a comet, robes flapping, beard bouncing with each leap. He landed in the middle of the mob with a glowing jade token in hand—and then immediately froze in place.
For sitting there, surrounded by dozens of puffed-up, red-faced disciples, was Kent Clark—calm as still water, casually offering the elder a half-eaten spring roll.
"Greetings, Master Liam…" Kent said in a muffled tone as he munched on the spring roll.
The elder stared.
"You—What—Kent?! What are you doing here!?" Elder Liam blurted, lowering his voice immediately.
Kent gestured lazily to the arena. "Watching the show. Wind girl was pretty. Sword guy was alright. But seriously, that one fellow's movement felt like a duck waddling through syrup."
"Not that. You… You left the Immortal Living Pool?" Elder Liam looked as if his beard was about to combust.
