In the main tent of the White Feathered Eagle tribe's encampment.
Fang Yang sat on the main seat, leaning back slightly. A White Feathered Eagle soared up and landed on his shoulder.
To his left was Second Uncle Fang. To his right was Lu Yao.
At his feet, a vast crowd of people prostrated themselves, kneeling in submission.
At this moment, Fang Yang looked down upon them, and a thrilling sense of holding ultimate power—the power of life and death—began to grow within him.
Fang Yang said nothing, simply savoring this peculiar sensation.
It was a feeling he had never experienced before. It wasn't physical strength, but a deep spiritual satisfaction.
He felt incredibly gratified, almost wanting to order these people around, to curse and beat them... a very strange feeling!
After experiencing it, Fang Yang instantly wiped away this emotion, which he was already finding somewhat intoxicating.
