In the camp, the scions of various noble families shone like stars.
Their arrival was like a massive stone dropping into a lake, creating waves and ripples.
An involuntary layer of frost seemed to encase the hearts of the people from Yongzhou, their faces displaying a mix of tension and complexity.
Everyone present knew that in the upcoming Jing Luan Assembly, these nobles would be the protagonists, with them merely serving as backdrops.
Once the assembly began, these noblemen would probably not hesitate to strike at them.
If they wanted to live, they would have to step over the corpses of these noblemen.
But how could that be possible?
Surrounding the noblemen were none but the strong.
Most of them were Jianghu martial artists who traveled around, aiming to ascend swiftly in their paths, while others were protectors from their respective family households.
The aura each person exuded was like a moving mountain, daunting and imposing.