All faces were adorned with smiles, ready to welcome the triennial grand event.
In the center of the crowd stood an altar several dozen feet tall, smoke rising straight into the sky, reminiscent of the solitary smoke rising from the vast desert.
Chen Yuan, without betraying his emotions, hid among the crowd, his gaze fixed intently on the altar.
Quietly awaiting the arrival of the Barbarian Clan's ritual.
People nearby were also engaging in quiet conversation with Chen Yuan about some matters.
Everything was very calm.
Unbeknownst to everyone, above the Royal City, a man in a black robe slowly materialized from the void, unnoticed by anyone.
He looked at the gathered crowd in the distance, a faint mocking smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.
"Brother Wang Ping, how come I've never heard of the tribe you mentioned before?" a Barbarian Clan martial artist beside Chen Yuan asked, puzzled.
