Deep within the towering peaks in the Upper Realm, the atmosphere inside the divine Leopard Sect was undergoing a silent, terrifying shift.
The ancient stone corridors that had once been filled with the arrogant laughter of the high elders were now completely frozen in a state of absolute, suffocating tension.
Wang sat calmly on the high throne of the Ancestral Gold Hall, his broad shoulders framed by the massive carved stone leopards that guarded the seat of ultimate power.
He wore a sweeping, magnificent black robe that lacked any traditional ornamentation, yet the raw, ancient majesty radiating from his posture made the golden hall feel incredibly small.
His crimson eyes, glowing with a piercing, unyielding light, looked down at the four ancient figures kneeling at the base of the dais.
The four old sages, the ultimate hidden ancestors of the leopard tribe, remained perfectly still, their long grey sleeves sweeping the stone floor.
