Previous chapter: Chapter 891
Next chapter: Chapter 893
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... “You can’t keep me here, Summoner.”

“Fight for the land of birth.”

“Your Emperor has returned!”

Your Emperor has returned!

In an instant, the flames rose!

The stage and cosplayers appeared, and screams rang through the venue.

Four 3D screens fell from the sky.

All the cameras were being tested.

The commentator in a suit and the host holding a card were putting on their headphones on the stage.

The entrance was filled with ...

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What would you do if you suddenly gained a power that no mortal man could hope to achieve?

What would you do if all creation suddenly bowed to your power and glory that only lofty Emperors could have?

Heaven and Hell submits to your power, The Immortal Realm fears your existence, The Mortal realm bows before your presence.

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”Are gods the greatest existence in all of the cosmos? No. Why? Gods are only worshipped by mortals who couldn't reach their power. Gods will be powerless in front of true power. They would be powerless in front of me.“

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******

“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.