The grand, circular bed in the center of the private meditation chamber was a sprawling expanse of pristine snow-fox furs, but it no longer served as a sanctuary for tranquil cultivation. Instead, it had been transformed into an altar of absolute subjugation. The ambient temperature in the room, once maintained at a crisp, purifying absolute zero, was now suffocatingly hot, saturated with the oppressive, heavy density of Wang Jian's Stellar Demonic Qi. The dark energy rolled off his muscular, flawlessly tempered body in visible, shadowy waves, pressing down upon the room like a physical manifestation of his overwhelming will.
