The Golden Throne Hall Massacre

The National Teacher shook his head. "No. I'll kick you out of the Dreamscape right now, so you can't interfere with me."

"The Dreamscape belongs to Yun Ling'er. As long as she nods, no one can resist."

"Besides, Yun Ling'er and I have joined forces and stand together. Aside from that person, no one in this Dreamscape is a match for us."

"So get out of the Dreamscape!"

The National Teacher thought for a moment, then immediately shouted:

"Hmph! This is the Golden Throne Hall. His Majesty and the Empress are both present during the morning court session. No outsider is allowed to run wild here."

"This man has shifty, ratlike eyes and keeps sneaking around. He must be a spy from another country, here to gather intelligence on our court."

"Guards! Drag him away and execute him!"

After saying this, the National Teacher looked toward the Empress, who was Yun Ling'er.

When Yun Ling'er gave a slight nod, the National Teacher breathed a sigh of relief.

The Nightmare wasn't an absolute presence in the Dreamscape; its master decided many things.

"Thud, thud, thud..."

A great many heavy footsteps rang out.

The palace guards and Zhao Han's colleagues from earlier gathered around him.

Even the guard who had spoken up for Zhao Han joined them. They surrounded him, ready to kill him at the order.

Zhao Han narrowed his eyes slightly. Did they really think he was some weakling of a guard they could kill whenever they pleased? It wouldn't be that easy.

In the Dreamscape, physical strength and energy—inner qi or true qi—weren't what mattered most. The key was mental power.

Zhao Han was in the Spirit Condensing Realm, a level that had greatly tempered his mental power and allowed him to condense a Primordial Spirit. His mental power