CHAPTER 39: The Kneeling of the Dynasty
*ARC 5: THE SOVEREIGN EMPIRE & THE IMPERIAL CONVERGENCE*
The silence that fell over the Golden Dragon Plaza was absolute, terrifying, and profound.
An Early-Stage Martial King Ancestor—a legendary entity who had guarded the Solari Dynasty for over two centuries—lay pinned face-first inside a five-hundred-yard crater at Gabriel’s feet. His ancient six-ringed imperial broadsword was snapped into three jagged pieces, and his blood dyed the shattered white marble floor a dark, crimson hue.
The remaining twenty thousand Imperial Royal Guards dropped their golden weapons simultaneously.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The sound of swords and shields hitting the stone echoed across the plaza as thousands of elite soldiers dropped to their knees, bowing their foreheads into the dirt, shivering violently under the suffocating weight of Gabriel’s Martial Saint pressure.
High on the dragon balcony, the second Martial King Ancestor’s face turned a sickly, ash-white. His hands, which had held power over tens of millions of lives for decades, trembled so violently he could barely hold his breath.
The Solari Emperor stumbled backward, his crown tilting, his eyes wide with unadulterated horror.
"A... a Martial Saint..." the Emperor choked out, his voice a pathetic whisper. "How could an Outer Realm commoner reach the Martial Saint Realm in less than a year?!"
Gabriel didn't answer. He didn't even look at the bleeding Ancestor at his boots.
He slowly floated upward, stepping through the air as if ascending an invisible set of stairs, landing gently on the marble balcony directly in front of the Solari Emperor and the second Ancestor.
Ethan and Elena floated up behind their father, their navy-and-silver coats settling around them, their gold-and-azure dragon physiques pulsing with a calm, lethal warmth.
The second Martial King Ancestor felt Gabriel’s gaze fall upon him. The sheer, world-bending spatial pressure surrounding Gabriel made the Ancestor feel like a tiny ant standing before a collapsing star.
THUD!
The second Ancestor dropped heavily onto both knees, slamming his forehead onto the cold marble floor.
"S-Senior Martial Saint!" the Ancestor wept in sheer terror, his voice cracking with desperation. "Mercy! The Solari Household yields! We yield everything! Spare our lineage!"
The Solari Emperor looked at his ancient Ancestor groveling at Gabriel’s feet. Every shred of imperial pride, royal arrogance, and three-thousand-year nobility shattered into dust inside his mind.
THUD!
The Emperor fell to his knees as well, his golden dragon crown sliding off his head and clattering uselessly against the tiles.
"Clan Master Sterling..." the Emperor sobbed, trembling uncontrollably. "The Central Realm... the Imperial Treasury... the throne... take it all! Just spare my children... spare my house!"
Evelyn stepped out from a golden spatial rift behind Gabriel, standing beside her husband. She looked down at the groveling Emperor—the very ruler whose royal decrees had kept her separated from her husband and children for eight long years.
There was no anger left in her eyes; only a deep, serene calm, protected by the absolute, invincible power of her family.
Gabriel looked down at the kneeling Emperor, his dark golden dragon pupils glinting with cold indifference.
"I have no interest in your golden chair, Emperor," Gabriel said, his voice flat and clear, echoing into the palace chambers. "Where is the subterranean vault?"
The Emperor blinked, his tear-filled eyes looking up in shock. "T-The subterranean vault? You... you came for the subterranean vault?"
"Did you think my Shadow Assassin Hall wouldn't intercept your encrypted spatial transmissions?" Gabriel asked, his tone dropping into a freezing, razor-sharp edge. "The transmissions sent to the deep space coordinates beyond our planet's atmosphere."
The Emperor’s face went from pale white to a deathly, ghastly blue! His breath hitched violently in his throat, his pupils shrinking to the size of pinpricks!
"Y-You... you know about... them?!" the Emperor stammered in complete, chaotic panic.
"Lead the way," Gabriel commanded coldly, his domain tightening by an inch. "Or I will tear this palace down to the bedrock and find it myself."
"I-I will lead you! Immediately!" the Emperor shrieked, scrambling to his feet, bowing frantically as he gestured toward the deep inner corridors of the palace.
Accompanied by Malakor, Lord Tyrion, General Ignatius, and twenty black-clad shadow assassins, Gabriel, Evelyn, Ethan, and Elena followed the trembling Emperor deep beneath the royal palace.
They descended through thirty layers of reinforced adamantite blast doors, passing through ancient anti-divination arrays and suppression fields that had been kept secret from the rest of the world for centuries.
As they reached the deepest, coldest subterranean level—miles beneath the surface of the capital—the damp stone walls were replaced by strange, dark-purple metallic alloys that radiated a faint, unnatural humming sound.
At the end of a long, dimly lit corridor sat a colossal, circular blast door forged from an unknown cosmic alloy, etched with glowing, geometric purple runes that did not belong to any human language on the planet.
The Emperor stopped before the door, his hands shaking as he entered a multi-tiered blood-seal code into a glowing crystal panel.
PZZZZT—HEAVY HYDRAULIC HISS!
The massive cosmic door slowly parted, releasing a cloud of frigid, purple-tinted mist.
Gabriel, Ethan, and Elena stepped into the subterranean chamber.
Inside sat a massive, obsidian crystal console hovering above a floating star map—and displayed on the central screen was a terrifying, holographic projection that made the air in the room turn instantly to ice.
Gabriel’s golden dragon eyes narrowed as he looked at the floating alien insignia on the screen, his voice cold as death:
"So... the true enemy finally reveals itself."