another murmured, disbelief and dread threading their words.
And then, the first voice that spoke the unthinkable: "The true emperor… he has the Jade Token."
A ripple ran through the crowd. Some fell to their knees at once, their faces pale, their eyes glassy with fear and awe. Others hesitated, their mouths opening in protest—but the sight of the Jade Token in Pei Rong's grasp silenced them before they could speak.
Zhao Yan stumbled to a halt, his chest heaving as he took in the scene. Around him, his men looked dazed, the hope that had driven them this far flickering and fading like a dying candle. Deng Mi pressed a hand to the gash on his arm, blood dripping down his wrist. Wei Ling's saber dipped just an inch, his shoulders tight with disbelief.
Pei Rong's laughter was low, resonant, the sound of a man who had finally seized his destiny. "Bow," he said, his voice cutting through the stunned quiet like a blade. "All of you. Bow to your true emperor!"
