The massive star-gold dragon prow of the Taichu Sovereign Ark hummed with quiet, unshakable power.
Twelve dimensional lock-clamps remained anchored in the verdigris bronze frame of the Kunlun Immortal Gate, holding the three-thousand-foot doors wide open.
Beyond the gate, the swirling crimson clouds of the Nine-Prefecture Immortal Continent rolled silently, unable to close the breach.
Down on the granite platform of Jade-Void Peak, Envoy Zhao Wuji, Deacon Qian, and Elder Blood-Bone were huddled together in the snow.
Zhao Wuji clutched his broken scimitar hilt with bleeding fingers, looking up at the three-hundred-meter golden warship with sheer terror.
“Mortal...” Zhao Wuji croaked, his voice shaking like a leaf in an autumn storm. “We... we admit you have some strength. Let us leave. We will return to Azure-Mist City and tell City Lord Cao that Earth is not ready for harvesting. We will tell him the ley-lines are still dry! We will never return!”
“Leave?”
Lin Mo’s voice drifted down from the sky like a cool autumn breeze.
