In the Nether Python Clan's grandest palace, a colossal hall that symbolized supreme power, a banquet of the highest scale and utmost extravagance was underway, accompanied by the melodious yet faintly eerie music of the snake race.
The dome of the great hall hung high overhead, inlaid with countless strange gemstones that gave off ghostly green or pallid white light, imitating the eternal starry sky of the underground world.
Upon the hundreds of pitch-black pillars, each so thick several people would have to join arms to encircle it, were carved the totems and achievements of the Nether Python Clan's ancestors through the generations. Under the flickering light of Beast Flame and crystal stones, they seemed as though they might come alive at any moment.
On both sides of the main hall, long jade tables were arranged in neat rows. They were piled with rare fruits and exotic delicacies unique to the underground world, the flesh and blood of magical beasts cooked through special methods, and richly fragrant yet peculiar fine wines served in black-jade vessels or boneware.
Many powerful elders, tribal leaders, and important figures within the clan sat on either side. Though they were feasting, their gazes would still glance in awe from time to time toward the main seat at the deepest part of the main hall.
There sat three people.
Yao Ming, who had changed back into a luxurious black robe, sat high upon the main seat. Though his face still looked dark, thin, and gaunt, he had already regained his dignified bearing.
After nearly half a day of emergency treatment and recuperation through medicinal pills, most of his external injuries had healed. Although his aura had not yet fully recovered to the level of a Two-Star Dou Saint, the steadiness of one long seated in power,