Having thought it through, he closed his eyes, then opened them again.
This time, what appeared before Dole was not George, but a swath of yellow that symbolized fate. It shone so brightly it was almost white, so white it stabbed at his eyes, nearly blinding him. He hurriedly adjusted the angle of his gaze and the transparency of the colors, and only then did it improve somewhat. Yet George before him was still as bright as an enormous yellow lamp, like a sun.
Following the light upward into the sky, he discovered that these rays of light were converging here from all directions. They were not George's own color.
Did these bright rules represent the nation's fortune?
Or did they represent the Empire's destiny?
Dole knew nothing. He could only speculate.
After looking for merely two seconds, he shut off his vision.
After all, this was his true body, not the Silicon-Based Avatar. Using this ability came at a cost.
Before long, they arrived at the gates of the residence. George stepped forward, and the smiling Emperor Yale dropped to one knee.
"Greetings, Father King."
The Emperor Yale had been observing George all along the way. Feeling somewhat gratified now, he bent down and helped George up, his heart heavy.
"When we meet in the future, a formal salute will do. You are an emperor now, no longer an ordinary prince." The Emperor Yale was filled with emotion.
Once an emperor abdicated, he no longer held imperial power; the tide had passed him by. But the Emperor Yale was different. He was a level-nine warrior and could still live for many years. The reason he did not wish to remain in the imperial capital was that he did not want to place too much pressure on George. He was