"Palace Master Neal, please make yourself at home!"
The Divine Origin Palace's palace master and the others were accustomed to this kind of recruitment process.
Unless a truly world-shaking talent appeared, they wouldn't show up.
Braydon Neal didn't put on any airs.
He moved like a white shadow through the air, and no one dared to stop him.
All the young people looked up with reverence.
It was because of the royal robe he wore—the robe of a palace master.
As one of the ten palace masters, he was a supreme figure to the participants and one of the rulers of the divine palace with core power.
Catching his eye could mean a chance to rise to great heights.
Braydon's gaze was sharp.
Wherever his eyes fell, he made an evaluation of those he saw, until he came across a 12-year-old youth.
The youth wore beast clothes and wielded a crude iron piece as a weapon.
