The Soul-Binding Ancestral Decree shrieked down from the lead chariot like a falling golden mountain.
Crimson runes forged by the Heavenly Script Pavilion blazed along its dark-gold metal shaft, unleashing a terrifying Rank 9 ancestral bloodline suppression aura across the plaza.
Where the suppression wave passed, the marble flagstones of the University gate cracked into powder.
Fifty miles back on the orbital viewing ring, hundreds of minor-sect elders felt their knees buckle from the leftover pressure alone.
In the front row of the University betting booth, Academy Gambler Elder Qian clutched a stack of golden betting slips to his chest, his eyes shining with greedy hope.
“Kneel! Just bend one knee for half a second, President Gu!” Elder Qian prayed aloud, sweating through his silk vest.
“I put ten billion high-grade Spirit Stones at hundred-to-one odds that the main clan’s Rank 9 bloodline seal would make him bow his head! Just one polite nod and I’m rich!”
Up on the lead golden chariot, Chief Envoy Gu Biao bared his bloodstained teeth in a vicious grin.
