Several days passed in a flash amid the increasingly fervent bustle of Ming Capital and the covert struggles between various factions.
Today, the tournament officially began.
The circular stands rose like layered mountains, every seat filled.
Soul Masters, nobles, and commoners from across the continent filled the air with a deafening roar.
Ceremonial cannons boomed, and the honor guard stood solemnly.
Under the gaze of the entire crowd, Xu He, the new ruler of the Sun Moon Empire, slowly ascended the central platform.
Yet what sent a jolt through the hearts of all keen observers—
was not the young emperor himself, but the figure standing shoulder to shoulder with him, even seeming to be half a step ahead.
He was a rather young-looking man dressed simply.
There were no markings to proclaim his status, yet he seemed to possess a tranquil aura that shut out all the clamor.
He stood there beside the richly attired emperor.
Not only did he not seem out of place, but the magnificent imperial robes and grand ceremony around him instead appeared to be mere backdrop.
What was even more unbelievable was that Xu He, the host and rightful center of attention—
after taking his position, naturally and respectfully turned slightly aside, yielding the primary view facing the central audience seats to the man beside him.
His manner was not the humility of a subordinate, but heartfelt deference.
"Who is that?!"
"The man beside His Majesty... what kind of status does he have? How could His Majesty treat him like this?!"
Below the platform, countless whispers spread like a rising tide.
Especially among those who had never seen Xia Ming before, waves of shock already churned in their hearts.
Finally, somewhere in the audience—
an elderly Title Douluo with white hair and beard suddenly sucked