Austin marched into the center of the Obsidian Plaza.
Two hundred and eighty fragments spun around his legs in five nested rings. His core’s twenty-five-G field drove his boots into the stone with the weight of a bridge support.
Above him, the eight-hundred-foot hull of the Sun-Slayer blocked out the sun.
Austin ignored the warship’s killing aura. He took a sound-level meter from his tool belt, switched it on, and aimed the microphone at the flagship’s glowing engines.
New text appeared in his vision.
“One hundred and fourteen point eight decibels,” Austin muttered. “That’s like running a concrete saw in a tiled bathroom. No mufflers. No respect for the neighborhood.”
He put the meter away and opened a pad of pink carbon-copy citations.
Then he raised his pipe wrench toward the flagship’s bridge.
“Hey! You on the fancy porch! The clown in the crimson dragon bathrobe! Kill the thrusters and shut down those unmuffled engines!”
Grand Admiral Meng stopped with one hand on his sword.
He snatched up a scrying telescope and leaned over the rail. The ninety formation masters crowded beside him.
“Admiral, is that mortal pointing plumbing equipment at the Emperor’s flagship?”
“What is that five-foot steel relic with moving jaws?”
“Look at the pink talismans on his wooden board!”
Meng’s face turned crimson. His Half-Step Divine Transformation aura sent violet sparks across the deck.
“INSOLENT INSECT!” he roared. “I AM GRAND ADMIRAL MENG, COMMANDER OF THE IMPERIAL VOID ARMADA AND SHIELD OF THE HEAVENLY DRAGON EMPEROR! KNEEL, OR YOUR MOUNTAIN WILL BE ERASED!”
The proclamation rolled across the mountain like a quarry blast.
On the lower terraces, workers pressed their faces into the dirt.
“We’re finished!”
“Master Chu, just bow once!”
Austin did not move. He smoothed the pink form against his clipboard and began writing.
“Section One! Operating twelve uncertified aircraft within five hundred feet of an occupied residential structure without an approved flight plan or low-altitude variance!”
“A FLIGHT PLAN?” Meng bellowed. “THE EMPEROR DOES NOT FILE FLIGHT PLANS!”
“The Emperor doesn’t own the deed to this airspace, pal! Section Two! Severe noise pollution. The daytime limit here is sixty decibels. Your fleet measured one hundred and fourteen point eight. That’s fifty-four point eight over the limit.”
The formation masters whispered among themselves.
“What is a decibel? Some kind of soul curse?”
“He says our sacred crystal keels are too loud!”
“Section Two, Subsection B!” Austin continued. “Property damage caused by engine vibration. Your thruster wash shook two Grade-A cedar shingles off my lodge and created a falling-debris hazard over an occupied walkway.”
Meng stared down in disbelief.
“He is reading building codes over two shingles? This fleet has destroyed kingdoms, and he is citing us for his porch?”
“Section Three!” Austin said. “Illegal solar obstruction. Your formation is blocking twenty-four point eight percent of the sunlight reaching my power array. That’s about four hundred and twenty kilowatt-hours of lost generation every hour.”
He finished the form and tore off the top sheet.
RIIIIIIP!
Austin held the pink citation up in the downwash.
“Fifty thousand copper per vessel. Six hundred thousand for the fleet, plus forty copper for two shingles and roofing tar. You have ten minutes to cut your engines, descend under control, and park in the marked gravel lot on the eastern ridge.”
He leveled the wrench at Meng.
“If those boats aren’t inside the white lines when time runs out, I’m clamping your landing skids and impounding the fleet. Towing and storage are ten thousand copper a day.”
Silence fell over the summit.
Behind Austin, Tie Kuang and Jiang Taixu stood frozen.
“Master Chu,” Tie Kuang whispered, “you just wrote up the Imperial Void Navy for illegal parking.”
“I issued a Class-A airspace citation with damages. There’s a legal difference. Their ten minutes are running.”
“They will kill us all!” Jiang whispered. “Meng is a Half-Step Divine Transformation butcher! The royal histories say he executed forty thousand prisoners because their war drums missed the beat!”
“Then he should appreciate noise control and proper timing.”
On the flagship, Meng’s face went white, then red, then purple. His hands shook so hard that his jade rings rattled against his gauntlets.
“Fifty thousand copper? Wheel clamps on the Emperor’s landing skids? Impounding the Supreme Armada?”
He threw back his head and screamed.
“LUNATIC! FILTHY MECHANIC! DID YOU BREATHE TOO MUCH OF YOUR OWN CHIMNEY SMOKE?”
Meng drew his Royal Executioner’s Blade. Blood-red fire ran along its five-foot edge.
“ARTILLERY CREW! CLEAR OUR OWN DECK AND REMOVE THE RESTRAINT SEALS! CHARGE THE ABSOLUTE ZERO CANNON!” Even in his fury, Meng waited for the marines to clear the recoil zone. He would spend lives for imperial honor if ordered, but he would not throw them away through careless gun drill.
He pointed the burning blade at Austin’s hard hat.
“FREEZE THIS BEGGAR INTO COSMIC DUST! TURN HIS MOUNTAIN INTO A TOMB OF ICE! WE WILL SHATTER HIS CITATION WITH HIM!”