In the camp.
The quarrel grew more intense, almost evolving into a standoff.
The ragged old boatman, wearing a bamboo hat, stood there silently, his eyes clouded,
but exuded a massive sense of intimidation.
He spoke coldly:
"All the sects, you probably don't need me to explain why you were called here. Now that something unexpected has happened, you're all anxious?"
Yu Chengzhong and Li Qiuhua exchanged a glance. The former snorted coldly, with a firm attitude:
"Sealing off this small world for no reason at all, does the Pantheon not intend to give any explanation?"
The old boatman remained indifferent:
"First, I am not a believer of the Divine Sect."
"Second, the Director of the Divine Sect is right there, why don't you dare to question him?"
Saying this, the old boatman raised his hand and pointed.
All eyes turned to the middle of the camp where a middle-aged man was sitting cross-legged, his eyes tightly shut, seemingly oblivious to the world,
