The golden seal lay quietly on the blood-red outlined map.
The fierce tiger served as the knob; although it was not large, it exuded a trace of pure sovereign aura. This was the royal seal of the Tuyuhun, the greatest hero of the Western Regions from ancient times to the present, who had conquered the lands three hundred years ago, vanquishing thirty-six tribes and flattening the Buddhist kingdom.
He had slain the leaders of various tribes, forging this object in the grand ritual of blood.
Po Jun slowly extended his hand, enveloping the royal seal, then lifted it up. After closing his eyes for a long while, it seemed as if the aura of starlight was circulating around him. He then opened his eyes and said, "The sovereign aura within has dissipated, but the residual traces are indeed without any doubt."
"It seems that the fall of Tuyuhun is related to you."
Po Jun set down the royal seal and closed his eyes again.