C397 The Successor of the Monarch Palace

Creak, creak, creak—

The grand, ancient doors of Wandering Monarch Palace opened slowly with a gentle creaking sound.

Beyond the threshold stood an elder with snow-white hair and beard, his complexion as fresh as a newborn's. Clad in a gray robe and wielding a whisk, he glided out from the grand hall.

Onlookers gazed upon him, feeling as though they were in the presence of a true deity