His gaze swept over the Dragon Clan's ranks, finally settling on the mouth of Pyralia, where Soren Phoenix was muttering with Mael Valerius, and his eyes flickered with gloom.
This unfilial son.
Soren naturally felt his father's gaze, but he was completely indifferent.
He even provocatively curled his lips, his eyes no longer filled with their usual flirtation, but rather an icy coldness.
Xylon Phoenix saw the provocative look of his son, and his face grew increasingly ugly.
He suppressed the anger in his heart, then transformed into human form and landed, the fiery red feathered robes flapping in the fierce wind.
A few elders also transformed and followed in his wake.
"Brother Hawthorne, such a grand entourage, what brings you here?"
Xylon Phoenix's gaze finally landed on the enormous golden dragon head of Horace Valerius, and even pulled out a faint smile.
His demeanor was calm, as if facing not a blood enemy's army, but relatives on an ordinary visit.
"For what purpose?"
