Chen Mo sat upon a grand throne carved from the finest materials the transcendent realm could offer.
The seat gleamed with polished obsidian and veins of glowing crystal, yet the once-majestic hall now reeked of blood and ruin.
At his feet lay the lifeless body of a Transcendent.
From the elegant robes and ornate jewelry still clinging to the corpse, it was clear this had been the rightful owner of the castle.
The Transcendent was not alone in death.
Scattered across the marble floor were the broken remains of several Absolutes and a handful of other Transcendents.
Their bodies lay twisted in unnatural angles, blood pooling in dark, sticky puddles that reflected the dim light from shattered chandeliers.
Chen Mo himself bore several deep cuts across his arms and torso.
Each wound still wept faintly, a testament to the fierce battle that had just ended.
Yet despite the injuries, he sat tall and composed, his overall condition strong and unbroken.
