Intending to crush their dignity, to test their obedience.
But, what can they do, no matter how unwilling?
Under those glaring eyes, they had no choice but to stand up, walk into the center, and mechanically begin to dance.
One, two...
When Yelv Yanxi's mocking gaze finally settled on the steadfastly seated Wanyan Aguda, the laughter in the tent gradually quieted.
Everyone sensed something amiss.
"Wanyan Aguda," the attendant loudly called his name, urging, "Your Majesty's grace, it's your turn."
All eyes, like sharp arrows, focused on him.
Wanyan Aguda slowly raised his head, his face expressionless, only his eyes sharp like a hawk, directly confronting Yelv Yanxi on the throne, without fear, without pleading, only a cold calmness and a surge of murderous intent beneath that calm.
