The court grieved, and the grand hall of the Holy Flood Empire offered nothing but the sound of mourning.
Kneeling at the center of the polished floor, Crown Prince Lin Fan buried his face in his hands. The grand hall of the Royal Palace surrounded him—its walls completely covered in text and its ceiling supported by massive pillars made of stacked tomes.
In the silence of the room, his shoulders jerked in erratic spasms. He dug his nails into his palms, forcing a sharp breath through his teeth. When he exhaled, it came out as a broken and ragged sob that echoed through the manuscripts.
"The Scriptorium Bastion has fallen, Royal Emperor," the scout trembled, his forehead pressed to the floor. "The Jade Savannah Empire launched a preemptive strike. The fortress was leveled. We... we could not recover His Highness Lin Diyu's body. The structural collapse and the sheer volume of chaotic ink erased everything."
