The silence in the throne room was a physical entity. It was a weight made of millennia of resentment, of ambition curdled into despair, of power so ancient it had forgotten its own origin. Hua Qian stood in the center of this suffocating vacuum, a solitary point of warmth and life in a world designed to extinguish both. Di Jun's words "Be ready, " echoed in her mind, a mantra against the encroaching dread.
He did not sit upon the monstrous throne. Instead, he turned to face the hall, his presence a silent command that drew the attention of every shadow. From the alcoves and side chambers, figures began to emerge. They were not the brutish demons of the city gates. These were the courtiers of the Underworld, beings of immense power and cunning, each radiating an aura of calculated menace.
