Pei Xuance, the Northwestern Army-Garrison Circuit Inspector, sat high in the foremost seat on the left, clad in black Qilin Battle Armor, his expression cold.
Investigating Censor Li Qingyuan occupied the foremost seat on the right. A pure white Jade Hu Tablet lay horizontally before him, his eyes lowered and his expression calm.
Farther down the left sat the Five Great Army Commanders of Yanmen Pass.
Blood Slaughter True Lord Qin Wujiang's gaze was gloomy, while neither joy nor anger showed on Dugu Wuqing's face; Wei Ting and Wang Yan remained silent, occasionally raising their eyes toward the Governor-General's chief seat; Yue Ting remained as unobtrusive as ever, though he felt somewhat uneasy as he thought about Qing Chen's earlier voice transmission.
Farther down the right sat the Provincial Governors of the Fifteen Northwestern Provinces.
Which of these men was not a territorial Immortal Official who had presided over a region for centuries?
Ordinarily, within their own provincial capitals, a single word from them could decide the rise or fall of dozens or hundreds of sects, and the life or death of tens of thousands of cultivators. What ordinary fourth- or fifth-rank Immortal Official did not tremble in their presence?
Yet today, these fifteen men sat more properly than the next.
Yunzhou Governor Mei Zhili looked particularly grim, with traces of fatigue in his eyes that he could not quite conceal. Ever since Faneng Temple's destruction, he had not enjoyed a single peaceful night's sleep.
He was not the only one. Everyone present had submitted memorials to Great Jin's Divine Capital to one degree or another.
Some had used the channels of the Imperial Princes they served to send word into the palace that Qing Chen had privately mobilized troops, surrounded Faneng Temple without authorization, and slaughtered local sects;
Some