It was a nobility of the soul, a nobility of the bloodline, as if destined to hold oneself high above all, grasping the reins of power.
Even the black-robed monk, always brimming with ambition, who dared to scheme against the elders of the Incense Sect, and even dared to encroach upon the offerings of the Evil God, found himself holding his breath and maintaining rapt attention in front of the Empress. He dared not even breathe too loudly, trembling as if on thin ice, waiting for the Empress's commands.
And at this moment...
Rustle!
Rustle!
The faint sound of footsteps rose, and Qiu Yuan Dai lifted her head. The chilling autumn wind blew, lifting her black hair and adding to the distinguished air around her eyes and brows.
