They all stood up.
In the faint cold fog, seven elders of the Ice Tribe were rubbing their hands and gathered around Pang Jian.
Some held magic staves, some wore ice crystal crowns on their heads, and some exuded a holy and majestic aura from their pristine magical robes.
The Ice Tribe elders, both male and female, seemed more excited than the next, as if they were all at a loss for words.
The eldest among them, holding a translucent scepter, struggled for a while before his voice trembled, "Honored guest, have you... ever truly felt the Ice Demon?"
Upon these words, the other six elders all looked on with eager anticipation.
In the plaza, by the windows, on the stands.
All members of the Ice Tribe, as if holding their breath, quietly awaited Pang Jian's response.
The entire Ice Castle seemed to be under a "Mute Spell."
