The place where Lin Feng handled government affairs was called the "Hall of All Realms Paying Homage".

This name once again demonstrates Lin Feng's ambition to trample the entire world under his feet.

The grandeur of the Palace of All Realms is different from the splendor of the Palace of Myriad Beauties; it presents a breathtaking, pure aesthetic of power.

The main hall has no windows and relies entirely on a huge "radiant crystal" embedded in the dome for lighting.

This crystal is a sacred object unearthed from the ruins of an ancient civilization beneath the far north ice plains. It is said to have been the embodiment of the "sun god" worshipped by that civilization. Now, it can only function like an obedient lamp, adjusting the intensity and color of its light according to Lin Feng's mood.

The floor of the main hall is a complete world map pieced together from countless rare gemstones.

Each conquered territory was marked with blood-red "Fire Hellstone," while the lands designated as the Empire's next target shimmered with the ghostly blue light of "Frost Star Iron." Whenever Lin Feng walked on this map, he held the fate of the entire world in his hands.

His throne, known as the "Throne of Bones," was not made of gold or jewels, but rather forged from the skulls of ten thousand kings and heroes of different races who were killed in the rebellion against the empire.

These skulls, treated with the most malevolent demonic witchcraft, preserved their deepest fears and resentments at the moment of their death.

Anyone with ill intentions who comes within a hundred meters of the throne will have their mind corrupted by this resentment and driven to madness.

Lin Feng sat calmly in what was arguably the most terrifying chair in the world. Before him stood not a retinue of standing ministers, but a massive sand table controlled by the "Pangu" AI. On the sand table, the flow of living energy was used to calculate every movement within the empire's territory in real time.

Today's topic is the rebellion in the newly conquered "Southern Swamp Realm".

The remnants of the snake people and some swamp tribes that have not yet been fully domesticated are still putting up sporadic resistance.

A holographic projection of Imperial Marshal Qin Lan knelt on one knee before the sand table. Her image was incredibly clear, with even the smallest scratch on her armor clearly visible.

"Your Majesty," Qin Lan's voice was calm and decisive, "the 'Blood Leech' tribe of the Southern Swamp attacked our resource gathering point in the Third District last night, resulting in the deaths of 120 Imperial soldiers and the destruction of three large-scale resource gatherers. I suggest that we mobilize the 'Burning Sky' airborne fleet to indiscriminately purify the 'Rotting Heart' wetlands where the Blood Leech tribe is located. We must use absolute power to deter all villains."

Lin Feng's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the Bone Throne, making a "tap, tap" sound.

He neither agreed nor disagreed with the suggestion, but his attention was instead drawn to another event being depicted on the sand table.

Those were two musicians who played the background music for him. They were once the chief and second chief musicians of the court in the "Land of Wind Whispers," a country whose people were born with the ability to communicate with the wind element, and whose music was said to be able to make boulders bloom and withered trees come back to life.

At that moment, they were playing with all their might. But one of them, perhaps due to nervousness or exhaustion, made a tiny mistake in her fingering, and a note was one-hundredth of a second slower than the normal beat.

For ordinary people, this is completely imperceptible. But for someone like Lin Feng, whose senses have been developed to the extreme, it is like the cry of a crow amidst the most beautiful music.

His gaze slowly shifted to the musician who had made the mistake.

The woman from the Land of Wind's Whisper instantly felt the pressure of that gaze. Her face turned deathly pale, her fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, and the music became even more chaotic as a result.

Lin Feng smiled. He didn't speak, but simply mouthed the word "blow" to the woman.

The next second, an invisible, violent gust of wind suddenly exploded around the woman.

She was like a dandelion torn apart by a gale, instantly disintegrating into countless pieces of flesh and blood, without even being able to utter a scream.

Her once-proud talent of communicating with the wind ultimately became the executioner that tore her to pieces.

The other musician was terrified, but she dared not stop. Instead, she used all her strength to play the music even more perfectly and passionately.

The entire hall was deathly silent, except for the music.

After doing all this, Lin Feng seemed to remember Qin Lan's suggestion. He said lazily, "Purification? That's too wasteful. Don't those blood leeches like to live in rotting mud?"

He extended a finger and lightly tapped it on the sand table, pointing to a major river upstream of the "Heart of Rot." "Pangu, calculate how long it would take to completely turn the 'Heart of Rot' into a poisonous swamp if all the industrial waste accumulated in the 'Blackwater Mining Area' were dumped into the upper reaches of this river?"

The emotionless voice of the AI ​​"Pangu" rang out: "Calculation complete. According to hydrological data, it is estimated that it will take seven Imperial Days. At that time, all water bodies in the 'Heart of Rot' region will contain more than 10,000 times the standard level of highly toxic metals, all plants will wither within twelve Imperial Days, and all non-toxic organisms will become extinct within twenty Imperial Days due to water pollution and the disruption of the food chain."

Lin Feng nodded in satisfaction: "Do it that way. I want those insects to die in their beloved home. Let them understand that every breath this land takes must be with my permission. Qin Lan, I'm leaving this to you."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Qin Lan's tone was completely calm, as if what she had just been ordered to do was not a horrific genocide, but merely the signing of an ordinary document.

"And another thing," Lin Feng's gaze fell on another area on the map that was flashing with blue light—the "Han Hai Trade Federation" located on the west coast of the continent.

"I have heard that the Federation's Chief Female Governor is a business prodigy. The 'Golden Route' she established has brought immeasurable wealth to the Federation. Moreover, she is a descendant of the rare 'Siren' bloodline."

Qin Lan immediately understood: "Your Majesty, I understand. After dealing with the matter of Nanzhao, I will personally lead a team to 'invite' this governor to Your Majesty. I believe she will be happy to contribute her talents to the accounts of Wanyan Divine Palace."

"Very good." Lin Feng waved his hand. "You may leave."

Qin Lan's projection disappeared. In the main hall, only Lin Feng and the musician who was trembling with fear but dared not slacken in the slightest remained.

Lin Feng closed his eyes, savoring the thrill of power and absolute dominance. Destroying a race, deciding the fate of a nation—to him, it was merely a small pastime between breakfast and lunch.

After finishing his "official business," Lin Feng didn't feel tired; instead, he felt a bit bored. He decided to take a look at his "collection" and see how it displayed different kinds of "beauty" in its respective "cage."

He first visited the "Tears of Heavenly Craftsmanship Workshop".

This is a place within the Wanyan Divine Palace, a place filled with contradictions and irony. The workshop itself is magnificent, built with the finest materials. But there is no laughter or joy here, only oppressive silence and the clanging of tools.

The workshop is staffed by women from races renowned for their exquisite skills. A dwarf princess, the goblin's chief inventor, a winged man's master feather weaver... They were once the pride of their respective civilizations, but now, day after day, they are relegated to this place, twisting their talents into tools to please the emperor.

Lin Feng walked to the center of the workshop. There, Brunhilde, the last princess of the dwarf kingdom, was sweating profusely as she hammered a piece of metal.

She was petite, yet possessed immense strength disproportionate to her size. She wielded the legendary warhammer of her father, the former dwarf king—the "King of the Hills." This warhammer had once shattered the skull of a dragon with a single blow.

At this moment, Brunhilde was using it to carve intricate patterns on a piece of "starry mithril" smaller than a fingernail. What she was creating was not a battle axe capable of splitting mountains and shattering rocks, but a cufflink that Lin Feng planned to attach to his cuff at the tea party this afternoon.

Her forging table was also extraordinary. The flames it provided were not ordinary fire, but a living "Lava Lord" imprisoned within a runic array.

This powerful elemental creature from the inner world now serves only as a means to provide the most precise and pure flames for the dwarf princess's "trinkets."

Lin Feng watched with great interest. He could appreciate Brunhilde's almost Taoist skill; each hammer blow precisely controlled the metal's extension and grain. But what he admired even more was the expression on her face, a mixture of focus, humiliation, and resentment.

A princess who should have forged divine weapons to protect her people could now only pin her pride and soul into a small cufflink. This complete subversion and desecration of the core values ​​of her civilization was the art that Lin Feng found most pleasurable.

"Your Highness," Lin Feng said in an almost gentle tone, "have my cufflinks been completed?"

Brunhilde's body trembled violently. She stopped wielding her warhammer, knelt down, and raised the newly completed cufflink high above her head.

“It’s done, Your Majesty.” Her voice was hoarse and low.

The cufflinks are snowflake-shaped, each petal as thin as a cicada's wing, and are engraved with the epic of the empire's conquest of the dwarf kingdom in a finely detailed manner that is almost invisible to the naked eye.

At the center of the snowflake is a diamond the size of a grain of rice.

This diamond is her own tear, formed in a moment of extreme grief, mixed with the earth elemental power from the bloodline of the dwarven royal family, condensing into the "Tear of the Mountain Heart."

Lin Feng picked up the cufflink and examined it with satisfaction. He could even see the scene carved on it: his army breaching the dwarven capital, Ironforge.

“Very beautiful,” he praised. “Your skills have improved again. As a reward, I have decided to bestow an extra half bowl of black bread upon your people today.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Brunhilde kowtowed heavily, her forehead pressed against the cold ground. Her nails dug deeply into her palms from the force of her movement.