"I have sinned!"
Han Chaoshen knelt and kowtowed again and again.
This emperor was not an easy man to deal with.
Han had lost count of how many times a single word from him had sent Severed Head rolling!
At that moment.
On the raised platform.
Not a bird chirped, not a sparrow stirred.
No one dared step forward and say a word.
The emperor suddenly smiled and said:
"Good that you know. I'll let it pass this time. Be more careful next time."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Han Chaoshen said.
The emperor paid him no more attention. Instead, he spoke quietly with several officials beside him, glancing now and then at the scene inside the Zhou Tian Instrument.
In the hall.
Slowly, voices began to return.
People started moving about.
The atmosphere was no longer so murderous.
Han Chaoshen slowly straightened up, only then realizing that cold sweat beaded his face, neck, and back.
He had taken a trip through the gates of death.
It had been that close.
He silently headed for an inconspicuous corner, hoping to rest.
His legs.
They were trembling.
How strange.
He was a cultivator, and he had not even fought. Why were his legs shaking?
Gritting his teeth, he edged forward until he found a meditation cushion. He sat down and began to rest.
A thought suddenly sprang from deep within him.
Why didn't I go back to the Nine Luminaries and enter seclusion to cultivate? Why did I get mixed up in royal affairs?
Will the emperor let me go?
He could not sit still. Anxiety gnawed at him, and he felt as though everyone passing by was looking at him with contempt. Fear of death rose and fell in his heart without a moment's pause.
Xu Yuan returned to the Black Flame