At the northern end of Red-Rock Valley, the sandstone cliffs opened onto a broad green river plain.
The Grand Citadel of Canglan rose from the basin like a mountain range of black stone and iron. It was the ancient seat of imperial power.
Thirty million people lived inside its outer wall. The defensive wall stood a hundred feet high, built from massive stone blocks and sealed with alchemical lead and talismanic mortar. Wooden spirit skiffs patrolled above the ramparts. Below, lines of ox wagons, freight carriages, and traveling swordsmen stretched half a league back from the city’s twenty outer gates.
Austin stopped on a hill above the southern approach and pulled a brass telescope from his tool belt. He cleaned the eyepiece and studied the fortifications.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Somebody cut every corner in the book. Look at those bottom stone courses. The mortar is three inches deep in places, and the expansion joints haven’t been sealed since the last dynasty.”
Xiaoyao took out his ledger. “Does the Patriarch see a fatal flaw in the imperial wards?”
“Forget the wards. Look at the drainage. Two of those upper drains are packed with pigeon nests and old lime. When the monsoon comes, water will pour down the wall. See those white streaks? That means water is already inside the stone. Come winter, it freezes and pushes the blocks apart.”
Xiaoyao wrote quickly. “The Ministry of Works spends three million spirit stones a year on maintenance wards, yet none of its grandmasters understand the Dao of Trapped Water!”
“Ain’t no Dao. It’s basic maintenance. A fifty-cent tube of sealant saves a ten-million-dollar foundation failure. Ignore the drain holes and you lose the structure.”
They joined the dusty line leading to the Southern Azure Gate.
Caravan drivers cursed their oxen. Young masters in lavender silk flew overhead on swords, forcing porters to scramble into the ditches. The air smelled of woodsmoke, roasted nuts, camel dung, and cheap incense.
Pug ambled behind the mules. Ahead of him, a merchant’s six-legged spirit-bull caught his scent. The beast squealed, rolled its eyes, and tried to climb backward over its wagon. Two oak spokes snapped.
Pug barely noticed. One head chewed a brass wagon hub he had found in a ditch. Another snorted smoke. The third sneezed when chaff blew up its nose.
Austin scratched him behind the middle ear without looking. Pug’s pleased rumble made the gravel dance.
At the gate stood the royal checkpoint.
Captain Meng leaned against a carved stone rail in gold-trimmed black armor. He was a mid-stage Foundation officer with a neat beard and cold eyes. Twenty guards stood behind him with nine-foot axe-spears.
Meng held the Heaven-Reflecting Jade Compass, a device used to measure spiritual energy and detect demonic cargo. Behind him, the blue Four-Seas Defensive Barrier filled the gate. The ancient formation was rooted in the city’s ley lines and could stop siege stones and Golden Core attacks.
Austin walked straight into the central inspection lane. Xiaoyao followed with the mules, and Pug came last with the camping gear.
Meng looked up from his roster. His gaze passed over Austin’s denim, grease pencil, and canvas pack. His lip curled.
“Halt, laborer. The central lane is for tournament competitors, registered merchants, and royal guests. Migrant workers use the western entrance. What’s in those crates?”
Austin tapped his hard hat. “Alloy samples for the trade expo. I’m here for machine plans and a scrap-market agreement with the licensed guilds. And this ain’t ditch-digger gear. It’s approved Tier 4 PPE.”
Meng snorted. Three guards laughed.
“Approved PPE? What kind of peasant dialect is that? Step forward. Let’s see what quarry scrap you’re smuggling into the capital.”
He raised the compass and approached the mules.
As soon as the instrument came within three meters of Austin, physics took offense.
The needle met the crushing gravity of his White Dwarf Seed and the magnetic force of his Stellar-Steel boots. It spun into a gray blur.
Ten thousand turns a minute. Twenty thousand. Thirty thousand.
CRACK!
The crystal pivot snapped. Purple sparks and burning solder sprayed into Meng’s face.
“MY COMPASS!” he yelped, dropping the smoking case.
Before he could draw his saber, a deep groan rolled through the stone arch.
The Four-Seas Defensive Barrier bent inward. It did not break. The White Dwarf Seed simply dragged the huge blue shield toward Austin like cloth caught in a drain.
Alarms rang along the walls. Red runes flared. Above the clouds, three patrol skiffs wobbled like drunken kites.
Meng stumbled back. He stared at the pebbles and pine needles floating around Austin’s boots.
Space is bending around him. This isn’t a laborer. This is a walking star.
His knees gave way, and he sat down hard. His armor clattered like dropped pots.
Austin looked at the ruined compass and sighed.
“Cheap wiring. Every time. You can’t run an unshielded instrument next to a strong magnetic field. You boys need better casings and a proper ground, or you’ll keep cooking your gear.”
He pulled a roll of yellow silk from his pack. High Judge Wei had delivered it to Sunset Peak.
“Here’s my entry pass. Paperwork says this is the express lane.”
Meng saw the crimson seal of the Nine-Clawed Azure Dragon beside the Crown Prince’s private seal. His face went white.
The Supreme Patriarch of Sunset Peak! The guest we were ordered to receive with imperial honors!
Meng dropped to all fours and slammed his forehead against the cobblestones.
“GRAND ANCESTOR! SPARE THIS BLIND DOG! GUARDS, CLEAR THE PLAZA! RING THE ROYAL CHIMES! OPEN THE CENTRAL EMPEROR’S GATE!”
Nine bronze chimes tolled from the highest tower.
The eighty-foot Central Emperor’s Gate began to open. It was reserved for reigning sovereigns and victorious grand marshals. Soldiers rolled a scarlet carpet down the main road toward the palace.
Along the walls, a hundred thousand merchants, swordsmen, and porters dropped to their knees.
Austin watched the doors open, then glanced at the western lane, where forty grain carts remained stuck in a shouting jam.
“Finally,” he said. “An automated fast-pass lane. Decent service. Pays to keep your permits in order.”
He shouldered his pack and led Xiaoyao, the mules, and Pug into the heart of the capital.