"Nine Heavens Avenue," the most magnificent central thoroughfare of the capital city. This avenue, three kilometers wide and one hundred kilometers long, is paved with a special crystal that can absorb solar energy and convert it into light energy. By day, it presents a solemn white jade color; by night, it emits dazzling starlight, like a Milky Way flowing on earth.

At this moment, both sides of the avenue were already packed with people. Hundreds of millions of imperial citizens, dressed in their festive best, gathered here, waiting for the arrival of the one and only "god" in their hearts.

Wang Hao and his friends Li Ang and Zhang Wei squeezed onto a relatively crowded viewing platform. They were all from a generation that grew up during the empire's most prosperous period, and they had an innate, almost blind, sense of pride in the empire's power.

"Have you heard? The Empire's latest 'Star Destroyer-II' mech will make its debut at this military parade!" Zhang Wei said excitedly. He was a fervent military enthusiast.

“That’s nothing,” Li Ang scoffed. His family was in the slave trade and had better access to information. “I heard that for this ‘reward for meritorious service,’ His Majesty will offer a ‘rare treasure’—an elven princess with royal blood! That’s a true ‘S+’ level resource; you won’t find another one like it on the entire planet!”

"An elf princess?" Wang Hao's eyes lit up instantly. He thought of the fox-woman slave girl in his own home who only did housework and warmed his bed, and a trace of envy and jealousy arose in his heart.

Just as they were discussing this, the crowd suddenly erupted into a thunderous cheer.

"Long live the Emperor!"

"Eternal Empire!"

At the end of the avenue, the sky seemed to have been torn open. Lin Feng's "Celestial Throne," a palace resembling a black sun, slowly descended from the higher dimension into the real world. It did not land completely but hovered thousands of meters above the ground, exuding an absolute majesty that dared not be looked at directly.

Immediately afterwards, squads of "divine soldiers," clad in dark gold power armor, surged forth like a tide from the pillars of light projected from beneath the palace. Their steps were perfectly synchronized, each one causing the earth to tremble. The particle rifles in their hands gleamed with a cold, deadly light.

Following the "Divine Soldiers" legion came Lilith's demonic army. Those abyss lords, hellfire demons, and succubi who had once brought endless terror to the Land of Holy Light now behaved like tamed beasts, obediently following Lilith's magnificent skeletal throne as she traversed the Nine Heavens Road. Their existence was the best proof of the Empire's absolute dominance, demonstrating to all its citizens its complete control over even "chaos" and "evil."

Finally, the group that always caused a stir was the "newly minted citizens" formation, composed of captured alien races.

Thousands of the most beautiful women, carefully selected from various races, dressed in uniform attire symbolizing submission and wearing exquisite shackles, walked numbly along this glorious path paved with the bones of their compatriots.

Wang Hao's gaze swept greedily over the elves, orcs, and human female slaves. He saw the undisguised sorrow and despair in their eyes. But this did not evoke any pity in him; instead, it stirred a stronger sense of superiority belonging to a conqueror.

In his view, these beautiful creatures, displayed before the world as spoils of the empire, were their supreme glory. Their sorrow and their tears were merely the most magnificent decorations to adorn this grand celebration.

But at this very moment, beneath this clamor and frenzy, tens of thousands of meters underground, in the mining area of ​​"Rust Town," a completely different scene unfolds.

Here, there is absolute silence.

Bolin Stonehand was once one of Ironforge's finest runesmiths, his hands capable of forging battleaxes strong enough to cleave dragon scales. Now, those hands, aside from wielding heavy pickaxes, have forgotten the heat of a warhammer.

Like millions of his compatriots, he numbly repeated the same work day after day in the underground mine. Above him, thick layers of rock, heavy enough to crush the soul, hung in the air. The air was thick with suffocating dust and the sour, rotten smell of nutrient paste.

The overseers are emotionless, Imperial-made combat robots. They enforce the most rigorous KPI tests. Any dwarf who fails to meet their daily mining quota faces deductions from their already meager food rations, or even cruel and potentially fatal electric shocks.

"Bang!"

With all his might, Bolin slammed his pickaxe into the magic crystal vein before him. A fist-sized piece of ore, shimmering with a ghostly blue light, fell to the ground.

He bent down and picked up the ore. A cold touch came from his palm. He knew that this small stone, once transported to the surface, would be processed into the energy core of the Empire's war machines, or fuel for the nobles' hovercars.

They used the blood and sweat of their dwarves to forge the glory of those who enslaved them.

How ironic this is.

He straightened up, leaned against the cold rock wall, and gasped for breath. Long hours of malnourished labor had long since emptied his body, which had once been as solid as rock.

He saw a young dwarf collapse to the ground, exhausted, not far away. Immediately, two patrolling combat robots glided over. They extended their mechanical arms, releasing blinding electric currents. The young dwarf convulsed a few times on the ground in pain, then fell silent.

Then, a cleaning robot silently dragged away the still-warm body and threw it into the "organic decomposition pool" deep in the mine.

From beginning to end, not a single dwarf dared to step forward, not even to glance at him.

Numbness is the best camouflage.

Bolin closed his eyes, leaned against the rock wall, and pretended to rest. But his fingers were secretly carving lines on the rough rock behind him.

What he carved was an ancient dwarven rune symbolizing "home" and "resilience".

This was his last and only act of resistance.

He wanted to leave behind the last trace of their dwarven civilization in these cold mines, enslaved by the empire. Even if that trace would be completely erased by new excavations tomorrow.

He didn't know when this kind of life would end.

Perhaps, death is the only relief.

But the word "give up" doesn't exist in the dwarves' dictionary.

As long as there is one dwarf who still remembers the songs of Ironforge; as long as there is one dwarf who still understands the meaning of runes, their civilization has not truly died.

Bolin opened his eyes and gripped the pickaxe tightly again. His eyes were still cloudy and tired, but deep within them lay a cluster of flames, as hot and stubborn as magma deep in the earth's core.

On the ground, the cheers of the celebration were deafening.

Underground, the clanging of picks striking rocks is like the last, faint heartbeat of this race.

Night falls.

Inside the "Heavenly Throne" palace, a small, high-class banquet is being held.

Those invited here are none other than the true core of the empire. These include General Qin Yue, Minister of Military Affairs; Lilith, the Demon General; the Chief Scientist of the Imperial Academy of Sciences; and several supreme officials who control the empire's economic lifeline.

Lin Feng remained seated on his throne, crafted from dark matter crystals.

He didn't participate in the conversation and celebration below. He was like an outsider, coldly observing it all.

General Qin Yue, feeling quite pleased with himself, was showing off to his colleagues the "female companion" he had brought that evening.

“See this? This is Alice, the former Moon Priestess of Silvermoon Forest. Noble, beautiful, and with a touch of untamed wildness.” As he spoke, he held a cup of wine brewed from the “Fountain of Life” to Alice’s lips and said in a commanding tone, “Drink it.”

Alice's body trembled slightly. She looked at the cup of spring water, once considered sacred by her elves, now a plaything on the invaders' table. An overwhelming sense of humiliation and disgust welled up within her.

But she did not resist.

She knew that here, any resistance would only bring more cruel humiliation.

She obediently opened her mouth and drank the glass of wine.

"Hahaha, good!" Qin Yue laughed with satisfaction. He enjoyed the feeling of having the sacred object and the saintess of a noble race at his fingertips.

The surrounding imperial officials also cast envious glances.

"General Qin Yue, you are truly blessed. Such a beauty can only be seen in your mansion throughout the entire world."

"Yes, I've heard that elven women are not only beautiful and have great bodies, but they also possess a natural fragrance that nourishes the spirit. I wonder if that's true?"

The filthy, unvarnished words were like sharp blades, cutting into Alice's heart again and again. She could only lower her head and swallow all the humiliation.

All of this was observed by Lin Feng, who was sitting on the throne.

His face remained expressionless.

These pillars of the empire, whom he had personally promoted, were essentially no different from ordinary citizens who found amusement in the blood of slaves in the arena.

Their desires, their ostentation, their greed all seemed so primitive, crude, and utterly unoriginal.

Just then, the entertainment program for the banquet began.

An imperial court musician began to play a symphony entitled "Dawn of the Empire." This piece was the empire's national anthem, its melody stirring and majestic, filled with an aura of conquest and glory.

All the high-ranking officials of the empire stood in awe, their faces showing fervent pride.

However, amidst this majestic symphony, filled with the scent of iron and blood, a discordant, faint note quietly rose.

It was a faint, almost imperceptible song, filled with endless sorrow and grief.

The singing was very soft, so soft that it seemed as if a mere breeze could dissipate it.

However, it possessed an indescribable penetrating power. It pierced through the stirring symphony, through the clamor of the palace, like an ancient echo, like a sigh under the moon, quietly flowing into the ears of everyone present.

The symphony music stopped without us even realizing it.

Everyone's eyes instinctively followed the sound of the song.

They saw that Alice, the elven slave girl who had been keeping her head down beside General Qin Yue, had raised her head at some point.

Her eyes were filled with tears. From her lips she was softly chanting in an ancient, obscure, yet incomparably beautiful language.

It was an ancient requiem for the elves.

It was they who sang the final elegy as they buried their deceased loved ones.

She knew that she might not survive today.

To sing mournful songs belonging to the conquered at the emperor's banquet is the greatest disrespect to the empire and to the emperor.

But she couldn't help it.

When she saw with her own eyes the man who had destroyed her entire world sitting on that high throne; when she heard that jarring national anthem that symbolized invasion and conquest, all the pain, hatred, sorrow, and despair that had been building up in her heart for five years erupted at that moment.

All she wanted was to sing a final lament in her own language for the hundreds of millions of her fallen compatriots.

Even if the price is death.

The entire palace fell into a deathly silence.

Shock, anger, and a hint of schadenfreude, as if watching a good show, were all visible on the faces of the imperial officials.

General Qin Yue's face instantly turned a deep purplish-red. He felt as if he had suffered an unprecedented and utter humiliation.

He suddenly stood up and slapped Alice hard across the face.

"Shut up! You damned, lowly slave!" he roared, his voice distorted with extreme rage. "Who gave you the audacity to hum such decadent tunes of a fallen nation here?!"

Alice was hit and fell to the ground. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.

But she did not beg for mercy.

She simply raised her head and stared intently at the figure on the throne with her eyes, which were filled with tears yet burning with fierce flames.

“Demon…” she uttered the two words slowly and deliberately in Chinese.

Qin Yue's face turned deathly pale instantly.

He's finished.

His slaves, at His Majesty's banquet, publicly insulted His Majesty, calling him a "demon."

This is no longer a matter of his personal honor or disgrace. This is the most vicious provocation against the entire empire.

He could almost foresee his fate.

However, the expected thunderous wrath of the emperor did not come.

On the throne, the man who had always been like a statue slowly moved.

In Lin Feng's eyes, the unchanging, deathly void finally stirred with a barely perceptible ripple.

He looked down at the elf below, whose mouth was dripping with blood, yet who still stared at him with hatred.

interesting.

It was really interesting.

For so many years, no one has dared to look at him with that kind of gaze.

For so many years, no one has dared to utter the word "devil" to his face.

He believed that all the will to resist on this planet had been smashed into the depths of the mantle by him, along with the "Honor Fortress".

He believed that all living beings had learned, under his absolute authority, how to wag their tails and beg for mercy like dogs.

Unexpectedly, today, here, in a lowly, toy-like elven slave girl whom he could easily crush, he saw again that thing he had long forgotten, called "unyielding".

It's like in a game of chess that he's played countless times and is already tired of, suddenly, a tiny pawn breaks all the rules and moves horizontally.

This cannot change the outcome.

But this suddenly added a tiny, insignificant variable to what was already a dull game of chess.

"May I have your name?"

Lin Feng spoke. His voice was calm, revealing no emotion whatsoever.

But this calm question sent a chill down the spines of all the high-ranking officials in the empire present.

Alice met his gaze and straightened her back.

"My name is Alice Moon Song."

"I am the last Moon Priestess of the Silvermoon Forest."

"Indeed, you will use your blood to pay tribute to the souls of my people, avenger."