The clamor of Southern Ancient City gradually faded. Cultivators from all corners of the Five Regions departed, some gloating, others deep in thought, leaving behind nothing but discussion that filled the city.
Night fell, and a waning moon hung at the edge of the sky. Its ghastly pale light spilled across the territory of the Nine Li Dynasty.
Deep within the imperial city stood an ancient palace, towering solemnly. Unlike the usual resplendent halls of gold and jade, this palace had been built entirely from dark-red divine stone. Under the moonlight, it gleamed with an eerie luster, as though it had been forged from congealed blood.
This was the ancestral hall of the Nine Li Dynasty, where the spirit tablets of its previous imperial lords were enshrined. It was also the most sacred and solemn place in the dynasty. Under normal circumstances, not even the Imperial Lord would enter lightly.
Yet tonight, the ancestral hall was brightly lit.
The Nine Li Imperial Lord stood in the center of the hall with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression so gloomy it seemed as though water might drip from it. The robe on his back had long since been soaked through with sweat, the product of rage and humiliation entwined.
From Southern Ancient City all the way back to the imperial city, he had barely spoken a word. The accompanying ministers had remained as silent as cicadas in winter, afraid of provoking his wrath.
"Your Majesty, Grand Consecrator Li Lei has arrived."
An attendant reported with lowered eyes, his voice kept extremely low, afraid of disturbing the Imperial Lord standing silently in the hall.
The Nine Li Imperial Lord slowly turned and looked toward the doors.
Li Lei appeared at the entrance. The sole surviving Saint of the Nine Li