The door of the hall opened with a gesture, responding to a subtle point.
A man dressed in a black robe appeared at the doorway, his entrance unnoticed until now.
He stood there with his hands behind his back, inscrutable and profound.
An aura of dread surrounded him, chilling the very air.
"Heh, Zhang Beixing, I didn't expect your wariness to be so high."
The newcomer sneered coldly, his tone full of amusement.
"I am Rakshasa, here to challenge you."
"Do you dare to accept?"
As his words fell, the entire hall plunged into silence.
Every eye was fixed on Zhang Beixing.
Anticipating his reaction, awaiting his decision.
Yet, at this moment, the young emperor's lips curved slightly.
A smile playing at his lips, like an Asura emerging from Hell.
"Rakshasa? Heh, quite an interesting name."
Zhang Beixing rose leisurely from the throne, hands behind his back.
The black robe fluttered behind him, exuding grandeur.
As if he regarded the challenge with utter indifference.
