Time passed; another five days had gone by.
For the All Clans within the Red Dragon Starfield, these brief five days were unbearably torturous. Each day felt like a year, and every minute, every second, dragged on for an eternity.
Should they submit to the Qin Dynasty?
Should they leave their Minor Thousand Worlds?
These two questions were like unsolvable puzzles. They racked their brains, tore out handfuls of hair, yet still found it impossible to decide.
Finally, the ten-day deadline arrived.
「In the Imperial Capital.」
"How many clans have submitted?"
In the imperial court, Qin Wudao sat upon his throne, his imperial prestige unrivaled, as he asked languidly.
His voice, though not loud, was like a rolling thunderbolt, resounding in the ears of all officials, compelling their utmost attention.
