The Spring Festival was reaching its zenith.
Over the last hour, the central plaza had turned into a theater of dreams and ambition. Smaller awards had been handed out like candy — "Most Innovative Product," "Best Artisan Craftsmanship," "Highest Public Satisfaction", etc.
Cheers had erupted, tears had been shed, and merchants from all walks of life had taken their moments in the spotlight.
But as the moon made its entrance, painting the capital in hues of deep blue and silver, the atmosphere shifted.
The festive noise quieted down, replaced by a thick, anticipatory tension.
Everyone knew what came next.
The Top Five.
The ranking of the supreme powers that drove the Empire's economy.
On the elevated stage, the Master of Ceremonies, a man with a voice that could rival a temple bell, stepped forward.
He held a sealed scroll in his hands.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Citizens of Ardentis!"
He boomed, his voice magically amplified to reach the furthest corners of the plaza.
