The Surface World, Spirit City.
Inside the Pope Palace, several rows of enormous gilded candles burned quietly, illuminating the hall. The central seat where the Pope should have sat was empty. Instead, someone sat at a mahogany desk off to one side of the adjoining hall.
Dressed in a luxurious embroidered robe, Yue Guan frowned as he held a reddish-gold pen, marking a thick stack of parchment scrolls.
Suddenly, the space at the center of the hall twisted.
A figure stepped through the rift. The instant his feet touched the floor, every candle flame in the hall seemed to shrink in unison.
Yue Guan's pen hand trembled.
He looked up and recognized the newcomer. His expression changed, and without even pushing his chair aside, his knees buckled, dropping him onto the floor tiles with a thud.
"Greetings, Lord Angel God!" Yue Guan said respectfully, his forehead pressed against the tiles.
Qian Xunji glanced at him and casually swept a hand, lifting Yue Guan with a gentle force.
"Dispense with the formalities." Qian Xunji glanced at the mountain of documents piled on the side desk.
"Why are you sitting here? Where's Xue'er?"
Yue Guan had only just straightened when those words frightened him into kneeling again, and he took the opportunity to kowtow once more.
"My lord, His Holiness the Pope is cultivating in seclusion in the rear hall," Yue Guan explained rapidly.
"Now that the Spirit Hall Empire has unified the continent, everyone, high and low, reveres you above all others. As your successor, His Holiness the Pope naturally aspires to that supreme realm of divinity as well."
"Lately, Her Holiness has devoted almost all her energy to cultivation. To ensure the empire's affairs do not suffer, I have been reviewing memorials here on her behalf."
At this point, afraid