The white–silver light did not come from the heavens.
It descended.
Controlled.Measured.Absolute.
The moment it touched the battlefield, the island itself seemed to recoil.
Bai Qianlan and Ouyang Xue'er lifted their heads at the same time.
So did Long Hao.
So did Ling Yifan—despite barely being conscious.
A figure stood in midair.
Not floating.
Not hovering.
Standing.
As if the sky itself had hardened beneath his feet, forming an invisible platform that existed solely to bear his presence.
His robe fluttered gently, pristine and untouched by blood, dust, or destruction. The wind bent around him rather than touching him.
His eyes were calm.
Not kind.
Not cruel.
Just… unmoved.
In his hand hovered a silver-white spirit plate, thin and radiant, spinning slowly in a perfect orbit. It hummed softly—not with power, but with authority, like a law waiting to be enforced.
This was not a weapon.
This was a verdict.
VICE-DEAN RUI JIN
