Sitting on the long stone steps beneath the private boxes were three people wrapped in deep cloaks, their faces obscured, their presence quiet and unremarkable—at least to ordinary eyes.
Rain narrowed her gaze. "Those three."
Zeon followed her line of sight, popping another grape into his mouth.
"Is it weird?" he muttered dismissively.
"Isn't it just a Tribulation Transcendence cultivator, a Mahayana cultivator, and one… with such an ordinary aura?"
But as his eyes fell on Iris, something prickled at the back of his mind.
He focused.
He felt nothing.
"Strange. Why can't I sense anything? Could it be…?"
A faint golden glow flashed in his pupils as he activated his secret method to spy further—
"Stop."
Ethan's voice cut across the box like a blade, sharp and decisive.
The very next second, Iris turned her head.
