The sound mirages struck in total all at once.
Forty-eight semi-clear sheets of shaking air surged down from the ceiling like a falling glass chandelier.
As they fell, they tightly packed the surrounding air into razor-thin sonic blades.
SKRRRR-CHHH!
The jagged sound-blades tore through the dark rock terrace, carving trenches three inches deep into solid rock without striking with iron or stone.
Flying shards of crushed dark rock sprayed across the stone like buckshot.
The sonic blades came together on Lu Chen’s neck from twelve angles, aimed directly at his larynx.
Behind the wagon, the two mountain mules dropped to their knees. Their ears wept crimson droplets under the crushing high-pitched pressure.
