Within the cold, exalted hall, the atmosphere was deathly still. Even a falling pin could have been heard.
Five figures who had just fought their way out of a bloody battle knelt respectfully below the steps, backs taut and auras restrained, not daring to overstep in the slightest.
Before the truly supreme pressure of the black-robed Imu, the power they had just acquired and the status they had won through slaughter were too insignificant to mention.
"Lord Imu."
All five lowered their heads and bowed in unison, utterly deferential, without a trace of the arrogance of those who had just reached the pinnacle of power.
Upon the throne, Imu sat in silence. The dark robes concealed every expression, making it impossible to discern anger or pleasure, and no permission came for the five to rise.
An invisible pressure clamped down on their hearts, leaving them afraid even to breathe too loudly.
After a long silence, a cold, indifferent voice slowly rang out, laying down an immutable law.
"In the years to come, I will remain behind the scenes. Unless there is something important, do not seek me out."
"Other than the five of you, no one in this world may know of my existence, hear my name, or investigate my whereabouts."
"Anyone who dares investigate will die."
The tone was calm, yet it carried the authority of an absolute, unquestionable decree.
The five First Elders trembled inwardly and immediately bowed their heads in acknowledgment, without the slightest hesitation.
They understood all too well how mysterious and terrifying this supreme being was.
Keeping a secret was nothing. Even if ordered to abandon everything, they would never refuse.
Imu gave a slight nod, displaying no unnecessary emotion, and calmly asked about the current situation:
"How many people are still alive?"
One of