For every stare in the greater hall, every whisper that stopped when he walked nearby, every old bastard who had suddenly rediscovered the courage to question him because for once Danton had returned without victory, all of it had been accumulating somewhere deep beneath his ribs.
He had spent the last weeks being treated as the future of everything they were building, praised when plans succeeded and held above everyone else because of the Progenitor he was.
Apparently expectation was very affectionate right up until the day it turned around and started biting.
Danton wanted to walk back into that hall, release his cultivation aura and ask every person who had judged him to demonstrate exactly how much better they would have performed against an Immortal God!
Instead he smiled.
