In the meeting hall of Three-Legged Crow Peak.
There was a jarring silence.
Every peak master and prime elder of the Golden Sun Pavilion remained in perfect formation.
At the head of the hall.
Upon the elevated golden throne of the patriarch sat a young handsome man with long, flowing jade-green hair and robes of emerald threaded with gold.
His head was bowed elegantly with eyes shut.
Almost as though he was meditating.
The overwhelming pressure radiating from him made the air in the hall uncomfortably thin.
Beside the throne.
Patriarch Zhen stood with a stiff smile plastered across his weathered face.
The old man looked troubled.
His fists were clenched at his sides.
Position? Dignity? He would surrender them all in a heartbeat if it meant securing this alliance. As long as this terrifying scion agreed to back them in the coming Central Heartland trials and the Immortal Official exams, the old patriarch would gladly lick the soles of the young master's boots.
