"Greetings, Young Master Tyler. The feast has been prepared in your honor. Please, allow us to escort you." The Murong brothers offered their salutations with practiced grace, their smiles warm and their eyes gleaming with a deference that bordered on reverence. Yet neither of them so much as glanced at their own sister, Murong Yue, the Sky Demoness whose very name once shook the continent.
She stood silently at Tyler's side, her immortal countenance as cold and impassive as a frozen lake, betraying not a single ripple of emotion. It was as if she had become invisible to them, a mere shadow in the presence of their esteemed guest. And Tyler knew well enough that this calculated slight was no accident—it was a message, a subtle reminder that in the main branch's eyes, even the Sky Demoness meant nothing before the weight of their schemes.
