Moreover, they had gradually built a powerful family and established a social circle.
In another three to five hundred years, they might truly become an aristocratic family.
By then, the number of disciples in each family would likely be in the tens of thousands, with even more reckless sons.
"Commander!" All the commanders entered the bright hall and bowed.
"Take a seat," Braydon Neal said, not even looking up as he flipped through ancient books.
The air was still.
All the commanders held their breath, sitting quietly, not daring to speak.
They waited.
Ten hours passed.
It was already two in the morning.
No one complained, as Second Master had warned them beforehand that this wouldn't be easy.
When Braydon finished reading, he slowly stood up and looked at the group.
Everyone's faces were solemn as they gazed back.
