"The worst heresy… is not to defy a god.

  It is to become one… without permission."

  — Doctrine of the Celestial Bureaucracy, Volume VI

  Above the Boundless Heavens, where even immortals dare not fly, stands the Golden Assembly of Thrones — seventy-seven gods, seated upon constructs forged from star-iron and eternal jade.

  In this realm, emotion is law, and silence is the greatest crime.

  Today, there was no silence.

  “A mortal has become a Celestial King. Unaided.”

  “No sect. No godblood. No ritual!”

  “And worst… he was seen by Ullatar.”

  The Seventh Throne, Lord Vekar, God of Radiant Order, slammed his palm upon his table. “This is chaos.”

  The Eighteenth Throne, Lady Sishen, Goddess of Bound Fate, let her threads unravel with a sigh. “This is freedom.”

  But it was the Fortieth Throne — Valdros, the Black Jester of Heaven — who laughed first.

  “A Crownless God? How poetic.

  Shall we try to kill him, then?”

  Meanwhile, in the valley of the Ashen Lotus, Li Fan walked among flowers.

  He did not feel divine.

  His steps were still light.

  His breath still caught when Yue Xian looked at him sideways.

  But above him, thousands of divine messengers had already been dispatched.

  Scrolls, relics, curses, even avatars — all flying toward his position.

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  Yanxu sensed it first.

  “You’re being summoned.”

  Li Fan did not answer.

  A moment later, a golden decree embedded itself in the ground before him, humming with command:

  "Li Fan. Ascended One. Crownless.

  You are hereby ordered to present yourself to the Golden Thrones for judgment.

  Denial will be seen as declaration of war."

  Yue Xian looked at him. “What will you do?”

  Li Fan smiled faintly.

  “They sent words. I’ll send silence.”

  He burned the scroll with a touch.

  That act was more than refusal.

  It was defiance.

  It shattered the unspoken chain that bound the heavens.

  And so, war began — not with blood, but with Presence.

  Twelve minor gods descended in radiant arcs of divine energy, each to test or slay the upstart.

  The first was Kethar, the Hollow Flame, an Avatar of Consumption from the Eighth Heaven. He arrived cloaked in black fire, his voice the sound of screaming coals.

  “You, Crownless. Kneel or burn.”

  Li Fan stood barefoot, unarmed.

  “I am already fire.”

  With a breath, he summoned the Flame of Sovereign Memory — and the Hollow Flame sputtered, staggered, and vanished in a puff of dying embers.

  The other eleven turned and fled.

  In the Golden Court, the thrones began to split.

  Those who feared him, demanding execution.

  Those who revered him, whispering the word reformation.

  And then — a throne no one expected stirred:

  The Empty Sixty-Seventh Throne, vacant for over ten thousand years, began to pulse.

  A voice spoke from it — soft, serene, terrible.

  “Crownless… come find me.”

  Every god paused.

  For that was the seat of Thal’Zir, God of Forgotten Paths — long vanished, long presumed dead.

  And he had just issued an invitation.

  Li Fan stood at the edge of the valley with Yanxu and Yue Xian.

  Behind him, the mortal world trembled.

  Before him, a storm of divinities brewed.

  “So,” Yue Xian said, tying her hair back, “which throne do we break first?”

  “None,” Li Fan replied.

  “I will not break thrones.”

  “I will build something greater beside them — so the old ones rot in envy.”