The interior of the Iron Throne was a world unto itself. Passing through the heavy gates and heavily guarded corridors, the view suddenly opened up.
This was not the dim, cluttered ship cabin one might have imagined, but an immensely spacious area that had undergone meticulous modification.
The dome was made of reinforced glass, offering a clear view of the shattered starry sky and drifting nebulae outside, which cast ever-changing patterns of light and shadow.
At the center of the space floated a massive circular platform, surrounded by dozens of separate floating private seats shrouded in soft light barriers.
At this moment, nearly half of the private seats were already occupied. Their appearances and races differed, but without exception, their auras were deep and restrained.
They were clearly influential figures from the Shattered Star Corridor and even more distant starfields, or powerful lone wanderers.
Some rested with their eyes closed, while others conversed in low voices. Their gazes occasionally swept over newcomers, carrying scrutiny and evaluation.
An invisible pressure filled the air, a field naturally formed by the intertwining auras of numerous powerhouses. An ordinary World Lord would probably find even breathing difficult here.
Old Man Xuan Ji led Ming Xin directly toward a floating private seat near the central platform, where the view was excellent.
"Please take a seat here, Fellow Daoist. The Treasure Exchange Convention will begin shortly. If you need anything, simply instruct the attendants."
His attitude was mild, yet his words maintained an appropriate distance. He was not excessively enthusiastic simply because of Ming Xin's strength.
Nor did he look down on him for being a newcomer, fully displaying the seasoned manner of someone accustomed to presiding over such occasions.
Ming Xin nodded slightly and took a seat in the private booth.
Mechanical attendants in uniform,