Inside the palace, there was nothing at all except for a single object. It was utterly empty and desolate; there were not even ruins or corpses.
The sole object was a golden feather!
The feather seemed to have been carved from gold, yet it swayed faintly in the breeze. At its root, there was even a trace of divine blood that seemed undying.
Yet this one feather nearly made the Demon Venerables present suffocate. They even felt the urge to kneel in worship, as though it were instinct.
Even Ao Qing's legs trembled. Vaguely, he saw an incomparably terrifying existence, lofty above all, gazing down upon the ages, crossing the river of time to cast a glance at him.
Yet the only one whose expression remained unchanged was Gold Horn, whose cultivation could be considered the lowest among them.
Gold Horn stood proudly, his half-dragon, half-human body ramrod straight. Blood flowed through him, accompanied by dragon roars, while an illusory Ancestor Dragon Phantom circled around him. It continuously roared at the golden feather, as though answering a provocation.
After a long while, Ao Qing barely recovered somewhat. He slowly turned his head and gave Gold Horn a pat.
"Your Ancestor Dragon Bloodline truly is extraordinary. It can release itself passively even when it encounters the remains of a Demon Lord. Were it not for this, with your realm, you would likely be inferior even to us."
"Ancestor, what should we do next?"
That pat from Ao Qing brought Gold Horn somewhat back to his senses.
Previously, he had merely been affected by the Ancestor Dragon Bloodline. Now, as he looked at the golden feather, shock filled his eyes as well.
He was utterly certain that the feather had come from a Demon Lord.
Moreover, that Demon Lord had been even