The Celestial Palace Elder tightened at once. Staring into Aurelius’ eyes, he instinctively tried to say something else, still trying to argue for himself and for the Celestial Palace. But the instant he opened his mouth, Aurelius lightly lifted his right hand and casually pointed a finger at him.
There was no world-shaking sign. No crushing pressure. A thin strand of golden radiance, soft and not at all glaring, slowly shot from Aurelius’ fingertip. It wasn’t fast. If anything, it was slow. It looked completely harmless, like an ordinary wisp of holy radiance.
And yet that harmless-looking streak seemed to pass through space itself. It ignored distance. It ignored every defense. It ignored the protective divine light around the Celestial Palace Elder and the treasures guarding his body.
In an instant, it struck dead center between his brows. There was no explosion. No scream. No spray of blood.
The Celestial Palace Elder’s body locked up all at once. His eyes flew wide, his pupils drawing tight. The anger and heat were still frozen on his face, but the rest of him had gone completely still, as if someone had nailed him in place. His mouth moved. He looked like he was trying to say something, trying to force out even a sound, but not the faintest breath escaped him, and he couldn’t make the smallest movement.
Then the next moment came. Something strange happened.
Starting at the spot between his brows where the light had entered, his body began to break apart bit by bit into tiny golden motes. It looked like a sand figure catching the wind, crumbling, melting, and scattering away a little at a time. It spread from his head to his torso, then to his limbs.
It took only a few breaths. An Elder of the Celestial Palace who had lived for thousands of years was erased like that, right in front of everyone. He turned into a skyful of drifting light and vanished into the air without leaving a trace. He didn’t even have time to let out a scream. Not a drop of blood was left behind. Not a fragment of bone either. It was utter soul-ruin.
Total annihilation; even his chance at rebirth had been wiped away!
Inside the great hall, not a sound remained. The hall went dead silent. Everyone was stunned. Even the Elders of the Celestial Basilica gave a slight start. Then they settled right back down, and when they looked at Godric and the others again, their eyes were colder than before, and openly contemptuous.
The people from the Celestial Palace looked like they had just watched a nightmare step into the open. Their bodies shook hard. Their faces had gone paper-white. One move. Just one casual point of a finger. Not even a single extra motion. And an Elder had been erased cleanly, completely.
So that was the strength of Aurelius, the Lord of the Basilica? So that was the terror of the true celestial bloodline?
Godric stood frozen where he was. His mind had gone blank. Cold had spread through his whole body. That Elder had been one of his most loyal and closest subordinates. He had followed Godric for thousands of years, gone through life-and-death battles at his side. And now, he had died right in front of him like that.
The Elder had died that easily. That cleanly. That completely. He hadn’t even been given the slightest chance to fight back.
Inside Godric, the rage, the grief, and the hatred slammed upward all at once, hard enough to tear straight through him. He wanted to rush forward right then and there. He wanted to throw himself at Aurelius and fight him to the death, no matter the cost, just to avenge that Elder. He wanted to draw out the divine relic, detonate every last scrap of cultivation in his body, and drag everyone from the Celestial Basilica down with him.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t afford to act on impulse.
There were still more than 200 disciples standing behind him. Those people were the Celestial Palace’s last flame seeds. If he gave in and moved, if he dared resist, Aurelius would never show mercy. The more than 200 disciples behind him would be slaughtered in an instant.
Godric clenched his teeth so hard his gums split open, and his mouth filled with the thick taste of blood. His hands locked into fists. His nails drove deep into his palms. Did it hurt? It hurt. But even that pain wasn’t one ten-thousandth of what was tearing through his chest. Even so, he held it in. He forced down every last impulse, every surge of rage, every stab of grief.
Godric slowly lowered his head. He didn’t let anyone see the bloodshot lines in his eyes or the hate packed inside them. When he spoke, his voice came out hoarse and shaking, but he still forced it to stay respectful, forced it to stay humble.
“Thank you for your instruction, my lord. I failed to discipline my people and failed to keep them in line. That madman crashed into my lord and offended the dignity of the Celestial Basilica. He deserved to die. He brought it on himself.”
The moment those words left his mouth, the last trace of defiance in the hearts of the Celestial Palace disciples, the last trace of hope they had left, shattered completely.
They all understood. It wasn’t that their Hall Master didn’t want revenge. It wasn’t that he had nothing boiling inside him. He was enduring it for them. He was enduring what no ordinary person could endure. He endured a humiliation no ordinary man could have borne.
From the throne, Aurelius looked at Godric bent so low, swallowing it all down, and the faintest trace of satisfaction passed through his eyes. He slowly drew back his hand. That mild, harmless smile returned to his face.
“Lord Godric truly is a man who understands reason, who sees the bigger picture and knows what matters. In all my life, the people I admire most are capable men like you who know when to yield.” He paused, his tone easy and distant, like he was arranging something too small to even mention. “Since that’s the case, I’ll accept this show of sincerity from your Celestial Palace and take all of you in…”
“But the Celestial Basilica has strict rules. We don’t keep idlers, and we don’t keep trash. Since you’ve come to the Celestial Basilica, since you’ve come to Saintlight Peak, you’ll have to do something for me and for the Celestial Basilica. You’ll have to be of some use…” He looked at Godric, and a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, loaded with meaning and naked mockery.
“How about this… Starting today, every surviving member of your Celestial Palace will be responsible for patrol duty and guards work at the mountain foot of Saintlight Peak… Lord Godric, what do you think?”
Patrol duty? Guards?! The mountain foot?!
Those few words crashed through the hearts of everyone from the Celestial Palace like thunder. Work like this was the kind of miserable duty only the Celestial Basilica’s lowest menial disciples got stuck with.
This wasn’t assigning them duties. This was humiliation with nothing covered up. It was taking what little dignity they had left and grinding it into the dirt, over and over!
