The general's voice was heavy, each word falling like an iron weight. "Now you understand why I had to surrender. Tang State, protected by the Primordial Gods, is invincible. Even if we could summon tens of millions of troops, it would be meaningless in the face of divine power."
He paused, his eyes sharp yet weary. "Should the Primordial God's wrath descend, countless world-shattering boulders would rain upon us. No army, no fortress, no kingdom—no matter how vast—could withstand it. If such a punishment were unleashed, the tens of billions in the Thunder Kingdom would be utterly annihilated. Mortal resistance is futile."
His tone carried no hint of cowardice, only the weight of bitter truth. The man was not without courage, nor without loyalty. But in the presence of a power so absolute, he understood the futility of defiance. To resist would mean the suffering of countless innocents, a burden he could not bear.
"I could die a thousand times over, and it would not matter," he said, his gaze resolute. "But I will not bring ruin upon the common people of the Thunder Kingdom. That is a price I cannot pay."
His words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken grief. The room remained silent, the nobles unsure of how to respond. Though his testimony was unwavering, the enormity of the claim—that gods of such power truly existed—was too much to accept so quickly.
The silence stretched until the general broke it once more. "You may still doubt, but today, you will see the truth for yourselves. Today is the day Tang State pays homage to the Primordial Gods. The entire nation will observe the tribute ceremony. If you wish, you may witness it firsthand. Perhaps then you will understand."
His voice softened as he concluded, his eyes scanning the faces before him. He did not press further. He knew well the blindness of disbelief—he had once walked that same path. The ignorant, he thought grimly, knew no fear until it was too late.
In the room, the nobles exchanged uneasy glances. Though skeptical, none dared voice further opposition.
Elsewhere, atop Tang's grandest altar, preparations for the tribute ceremony reached their final stages. The altar stood as a towering monolith, its surface inscribed with ancient symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the sunlight. Around it, rows of Tang State's highest officials, led by the ruler Li Xiao, gathered in solemn formation.
A minister stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, all preparations for the memorial service are complete."
A courtier stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Your Majesty, the dignitaries in the Thunder Kingdom have not caused any further disturbances."
Li Xiao nodded, his expression calm but thoughtful. "As expected. After all, by conquering the Thunder Kingdom, we've uprooted the foundation of their wealth and power. Their losses are immense, and their hatred for us runs deep. Rebellion is only natural for those who wish to restore what they've lost."
The courtier replied with confidence, "For now, they remain silent. Over the past year, we've executed a significant number of Thunder Kingdom's elites. This has quelled their defiance for the time being. While some may still harbor discontent in secret, they lack the courage to act openly."
The courtier's tone was unperturbed, even indifferent. He had seen similar patterns before. When the Kingdom of Chen fell to Tang, many of its nobles also resisted. However, decisive actions—including the public execution of key dissenters—had ensured that the dissenters either fled or remained subdued.
"Good," Li Xiao said, his voice cold and resolute. "These rebels are nothing more than an irritating rash, hardly a threat to Tang. As long as we strike swiftly and decisively, they'll fade into obscurity. Stability will return. But for now, such trifles can wait. Our focus must remain on paying homage to the Primordial Gods."
His gaze sharpened. "It is the gods who ensure our prosperity and protection. Their favor is paramount. So long as the divine remains with us, no mortal opposition can stand."
A courtier nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Your Majesty. The sacrifices are prepared. The altar is ready, and the memorial ceremony awaits your command."
Li Xiao's face clouded briefly with regret. "It's unfortunate we couldn't acquire another world item to offer to the gods. We only found knowledge-based artifacts in the Thunder Kingdom. While significant, they pale compared to the divine tools such as Thor's Hammer."
Another minister interjected, "Your Majesty, world items are exceedingly rare. For a nation to possess even one is a miracle. Expecting to find another so soon is almost impossible. Besides, Thor's Hammer has already been taken by the Primordial God. Perhaps even that, in its divine possession, was a sacrifice in itself."
The others murmured in agreement. The scarcity of world items—treasures capable of altering the balance of power across nations—was undeniable. Still, even without such artifacts, they believed their offerings of knowledge and devotion would please the gods.
"Very well," Li Xiao said decisively, his gaze shifting toward the grand altar. "The auspicious hour is upon us. Let the ceremony begin."
A procession of Tang's most prominent officials emerged from the palace, moving in perfect synchrony toward the grand altar. At their head stood Li Xiao, his regal presence commanding respect.
Before them loomed a colossal stone sculpture of the Primordial God. The figure was carved with such precision and reverence that it seemed alive, exuding an aura of ancient power. The air around the altar grew thick with an almost palpable energy, as if the gods themselves were watching.
Surrounding the altar, an immense crowd of believers knelt in fervent worship, their faces alight with devotion. Their whispers formed a low, resonant hum, a sea of prayers rising toward the heavens.
The power of faith surged through the city, its weight suffusing the atmosphere. The scene was both solemn and awe-inspiring, the entire nation unified in a singular purpose: to honor the Primordial Gods who held their destiny in their hands.