The throne of white jade was beautiful, but to Lin Ke, it looked like a life sentence without parole.
It stood forty feet high, carved with the sky likeness of soaring dragons and burning phoenixes.
From its seat radiated a power so total that had Lin Ke taken a single step toward it, the souls of eight hundred quadrillion beings would have bound themselves to his personal will in eternal, irrevocable servitude.
He would be the God-Emperor.
Untouchable. Immortal. Omnipotent.
The Arch-Daemon held the crystal-clear metal pen out to him, its eyes shining with respect. “Take the metal pen, Maintainer. Sit upon the throne. Command the cosmos.”
Elder Wu held his breath, his eyes wide with trembling awe. Shen Yue watched in silence, her hands clasped against her chest. Meng Shan smiled quietly, resting both hands on his broad belt, ready to accept whatever his brother decided.
Lin Ke looked down at the shimmering crystal-clear metal pen.
