"Enaricus conspired with Malevolent Path Hall, high treason. By law, he should die. Yet, for the palace's sake, I grant him one chance. He will cripple his own cultivation so others may learn. As for you two, leave the Celestial King's Palace this instant. Set foot here again, and you face the blade of every guard within."
Hearing this, Enaricus blanched.
Crippling his own cultivation was worse than death. His fists tightened until nails cut flesh, yet he felt no pain, only the hollow roar of his future collapsing.
Percival and Esorin traded a single, fraught glance. They both knew refusal meant none of them would leave alive.
Silence flooded the hall. Every soul held its breath, waiting for their answer, while in the vaulted air an invisible storm gathered, ready to break.
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