Four hundred years seemed like an eternity for Braydon Neal!
Meanwhile, in a cozy living room, the three soul slaves of the Hall of Souls convened, a holographic image of Braydon materializing before them as they observed his presence in the leisure area.
"Lord Bilal is urging His Highness to hasten his cultivation. Any thoughts on this?" Beckham Jovel inquired with a hint of concern.
"His Highness possesses a unique temperament; outwardly serene but inwardly reserved. Traditional methods might not suffice," Issac Irwin murmured in a hushed tone.
Carlisle Jaynes shook his head in disagreement. "His aloofness is directed toward outsiders. From what I've gathered about the Neal family, His Highness holds those close to him in high regard. However, it's true that his mind is incredibly inscrutable, making it challenging to motivate him through conventional means."
Beckham rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.
