Pope's Palace.
This building, representing the highest authority on the Douluo Continent, stood at the peak of Spirit Mountain.
Under the night sky, it resembled a slumbering beast, looking down upon all living things.
Han Yuchen walked up the long White Marble staircase.
Fully armed palace guards stood on either side, every gaze stabbing into him like a blade.
Someone with weaker nerves would probably have had their legs turn to jelly.
But Han Yuchen strolled as though he were touring his own backyard.
He even had the leisure to comment on the reliefs by the roadside.
"This angel is sculpted pretty well, but its wings are a bit chubby. Has it been eating too well?"
Yue Guan, walking ahead of him, stumbled and nearly fell.
Was this kid truly stupid, or just pretending?
At last, they arrived before the main hall.
The two heavy doors, each ten meters tall, slowly opened.
A grand, solemn aura of boundless pressure rushed toward them.
At the far end of the hall.
At the head of a long dining table.
Sat a woman.
She wore a brilliant golden gown, a Nine-Bend Purple Gold Crown, and held a scepter in her hand.
Time seemed especially kind to her. It had left no mark upon her face, instead refining her into a breathtaking beauty—noble, elegant, and inviolable.
The Pope, Bibi Dong.
Han Yuchen entered with Leng Yuebai.
The doors slammed shut behind them.
The entire hall instantly became an enclosed space.
"Sit."
Bibi Dong's voice was soft, yet it echoed through the hall with an unquestionable force.
Han Yuchen did not stand on ceremony. He pulled out a chair and sat down.
Leng Yuebai stood behind him like an ice sculpture, her gaze fixed firmly on Bibi Dong.
"Han Yuchen."
Bibi Dong set down her