Chapter 114
The Imperial Palace was teeming with outsiders today—and she was the Emperor of the Empire.
It looked as though she was walking alone, but her guards were trailing her silently, masking their presence.
As she’d intended, the palace was steeped in a hedonistic atmosphere.
Fireworks exploded intermittently in the night sky, music echoed loudly, and masked people giggled in hidden corners. Colored smoke billowed in parts of the garden.
Some drunkards grabbed each other’s hands and began to pray.
Murmurs of words like “mercy,” “love,” “understanding,” and “compassion” were uttered as they bowed their heads in devotion.
The common people’s dependence on the Temple has gone beyond all reason.
The Emperor’s eyes darkened.
They have no intention of living independently. All they care about is clinging to the Temple, hoping to receive something in return.
The Temple’s influence was pervasive—present everywhere, suffocating.
Even the High Priest himself had somehow surpassed human lifespan, maintaining a middle-aged appearance through unnatural means.
He had become an object of worship. His symbolism now surpassed even the royal family’s.