The forty-nine days passed in silence.
Across the Desolate Heaven Empire, all celebrations had ceased.
Music disappeared from the streets.
Markets quieted.
Even cultivators restrained their movements.
On the surface, the Empire mourned.
But beneath that stillness… preparations never stopped.
For forty-nine days, blades were sharpened in the dark.
Princes and princesses made their efforts to bring in more supporters.
Schemes were woven behind closed doors.
And now, the day has arrived.
The Emperor's funeral!
An invitation was sent to every powerhouse.
Such an invitation—no one dared to decline, nor did anyone even consider it.
Streams of figures moved toward the Imperial Capital.
Experts traveled with overwhelming auras that caused the very air to tremble.
The Imperial capital… was filled once more.
White banners hung across every street.
Black cloth draped from towering walls.
Incense burned endlessly.
A thick, solemn fragrance filled the air.
