Fang Mo stood at the very center of the ruins of the Palace of Heavenly Purity, his feet planted on the powder left by the shattered White Bone Dragon Throne.
Morning light streamed through the gap left by the torn-off roof, illuminating the blood and ash covering him.
He glanced down at the debris beside his feet, indistinguishable as masonry or bone, nudged it twice with his boot, and kicked something out of it.
A square jade seal.
The seal was not made of ordinary Hetian jade, but an ancient jade threaded with dark blue-green veins. Eight seal-script characters were carved into its base, their strokes still perfectly intact after the scorching of the Colorless Karma Fire.
Mandated by Heaven, may longevity and prosperity endure forever.
The Great Qian Imperial Seal.
Fang Mo crouched, picked up the jade seal, and hefted it in his hand.
"Nian Nu'er, is there any national fortune left on this thing?"
Nian Nu'er's voice was so faint that it was almost inaudible when it emerged from the deepest reaches of his Sea of Consciousness.
"Yes, but only a wisp. The Old Emperor fed most of the national fortune to the split spirit of the Spiritual Terrace Burial Cosmos. What little fortune remains on the seal cannot sustain a dynasty. It cannot even sustain a single city."
Fang Mo turned the seal over, examined the seal-script characters on its base, and scoffed.
"Scrap metal."
He stood, tucked the seal under his left arm, and headed toward the side door with the God Slaying Saber in his right hand.
On the steps outside the side door, Zhao Heng was still leaning against the doorframe.
He could no longer lift his left arm at all. The blood around the split in his breastplate had dried dark brown in