At their head strode a snow-haired elder. A single, enormous white feather jutted from the crown of his head, and deep furrows of age etched his face.
This was none other than Troynar, Grand Elder of the Barbaric Clan, an elite in the Wandering Immortal Realm Level Eight.
"Everett Cloud?" Troynar's gaze, sharp as a hawk's, fixed on Everett with blazing fury. "How dare you! Our clan has never trafficked with Azurecloud Sect. You bring outsiders to trespass on our lands, have you grown tired of living?!"
Everett's knees nearly buckled. Stammering, he managed, "G-Grand Elder Troynar, I... I brought this Mr. Chance..."
"Mr. Chance?" Troynar let out a cold laugh.
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