Dyon's vision blurred, causing him to blink profusely. When he could finally make out his surroundings, he found that the first thing to overwhelm him wasn't the sights, but rather the ridiculous amount of noise.
He sat on a wooden and quite shabby looking throne at the helm of a room filled with bickering middle aged men. It seemed that the air content was almost half filled with disgusting liquids that flew from their mouths, but their discussions were so heated that that they didn't seem to notice. It was likely that the room had increased at least a few degrees simply by virtue of their exaggerated anger.
Looking down at himself, Dyon found himself wearing cheap linen, but it was clear that this was likely the most expensive fabric this place had, judging by what the others wore. He also noticed that the Dragon King was nowhere to be found, nor could he feel his presence. Luckily, Dyon's body cultivation talent had gotten a buff, or this would have been a fatal blow.
