The sky trembled. In front of Han Soi's eyes, the massive high-grade military battleship began its descent.
The air pressure shifted violently as the enormous shadow swallowed the temple grounds. The vessel did not hesitate or circle...it landed directly on the wide marble podium reserved for external arrivals.
The impact was controlled and precise.
Han Soi's heart sank.
There was no mistaking it.
The dark hull, the silver carvings shaped like coiling serpents, the vast wing-like structures folded along its sides...
It was a Winged Serpent Clan battleship.
His throat went dry.
Almost instantly, temple servants rushed forward from every direction. They formed a respectful perimeter around the ship, their movements swift and practiced.
This was not the treatment given to ordinary guests.
They were receiving someone of terrifying status.
Han Soi clenched his fists.
At first, he thought...no, hoped...it was his younger brother.
