The Emperor Yu's Divine Sense took the form of a phantom, standing like a statue upon land strewn with jagged rocks.
The Divine Sense of a Mahayana Realm cultivator had gone utterly blank, leaving him only able to stand there in a daze, staring lifelessly at the dirt beneath his feet. He could not feel his limbs, could not feel his power, did not know why he stood here, nor what he was supposed to do.
Last night's joyous wedding feast, the celebration within the palace—all of it had shattered along with the palace's floating mountain and fallen from the sky to the earth.
In his haze, he could vaguely sense cultivators flying in from every direction. Those strange rocks were fragments of the shattered palace, embedded in the ground after falling, while all around them lay the wreckage of what had once been a glorious imperial court.
The world seemed to be spinning, and he could only faintly hear the reports of Great Yu's experts, who had gathered intelligence and were briefing the surviving people and ministers.
"Immortals, shamans, demons, humans—members of every race were involved. We cannot determine which faction was responsible. The spells they used and the aura traces they left behind have never appeared in Great Yu's intelligence records."
"There was a traitor among the cultivators guarding the palace formation—this was reported by the survivors. The traitor's background was spotless. He was a member of Great Yu's Golden Void Tribe, reached the Nascent Soul Realm at eight hundred years old, and was recruited by the palace three hundred years ago because of his considerable talent for formations. He suddenly struck last night. There were spies among the kitchen staff, city guards, banquet guests, and maidservants alike. Every one of them had a clean background. The earliest