Chapter 5588

The moment Maxwell’s quiet declaration swept through the shattered sanctuary, every soul inside stood frozen, thunderstruck.

Even the marble pillars seemed to tremble beneath the weight of his words. Enaricus stared wide-eyed, unable to reconcile the plain middle-aged man before him with the fabled founder of the Celestial Palace.

Across the blood-streaked floor, Esorin, too, felt his breath stall. Of all foes he had imagined, he had never pictured the Palace’s first hall master.

Celestial Palace had endured for tens of thousands of years; clearly, so had its creator.

A hard swallow shuddered down the elder’s throat. His knees quaked. Instinct drowned every shred of courage with one primal order—run.

A thin, metallic whistle sliced through the air, keen as a freshly drawn blade.

Esorin spun and bolted, streaking away like living lightning.