"I, Nie Feng, pay my respects to Your Majesty!"
Inside the imperial study, Nie Feng strode in dramatically, stood in the center of the hall, and reluctantly bowed his head in salute. In his eyes, it was a profound disgrace. He, a distinguished Tier-2 Saint, was saluting a Heaven Realm Martial Artist as feeble as an ant. It was to the extent that he believed he should be the one in Qin Wudao's position.
"Rise!" Qin Wudao said, his tone neither cold nor warm.
Both sides clearly understood their relationship: a mutual exploitation that would eventually reach its breaking point, so neither was particularly cordial.
"Your Majesty, these are my spoils of war. Please distribute them soon to fortify the strength of the Qin Dynasty's people!" Nie Feng waved his hand, and dozens of spatial rings floated before him, landing neatly on the official desk in front of Qin Wudao.
