This prophecy had circulated throughout the Myriad Heavens and Worlds for millions of years.
At the end of this Epoch, a new Throne would be born!
But no one knew how that new Throne would come into being.
And so, as the Epoch drew to a close, the Half-Step Kings had seized territory like mad, hoping to claim Fortune and improve their chances of ascending to kingship.
Now, the truth was clear!
The prophecy was real!
A new Throne had truly descended!
But who could have imagined it would happen like this?
An ancient King had to fall for a new Throne to descend!
Ordinarily, the descent of a Throne would have driven every Half-Step King mad, sent them into a frenzy, made them fight with their lives.
Yet as they watched the new Throne slowly take shape, these Half-Step Kings grew uncharacteristically calm.
None even rushed forward to claim it!
It was not that they had given up. They knew, with absolute clarity, that they had no chance of taking it!
Not the slightest chance!
No one could simply sit on a Throne and instantly succeed. There was a process!
And that process could be interrupted!
Without sufficient strength, no one could hold a Throne.
In the past, they would have fought for it even if their hopes were slim.
This time, their hopes were not merely slim.
There was no hope at all!
Every powerful figure glanced at the slowly forming Throne, longing and greed plain in their eyes.
But then their gazes swept across the white-robed figure above the Sea of Death.
The greed and longing in their eyes ebbed away and died.
Fight such a terrifying being for the Throne?
That was beyond courting death. It was inviting their own destruction!
He was a supreme terror