The mud on the northern highway was warm, sticky, and heavily scented with lavender static.
Sect Master Yan Lie sat in the center of his deep impact crater, his singed bath towel held together with a bent iron pin. Every muscle in his body ached with deep, throbbing bruises. His dantian was cold and locked tight, completely sealed by the disciplinary static charge.
Above his head, his three-foot-wide neon-pink afro bobbed with every breath, gently smoking in the cool afternoon breeze.
Beside him, Matriarch Bing and Sect Master Gui were struggling to pull their knees out of the roadside marsh. Matriarch Bing’s frost-armor had vanished into steam, leaving her in a sodden, muddy gray slip. Her own pink afro crackled with static sparks every time she blinked.
The heavy iron portcullis of the northern gate creaked open with a deep rumble.
Chief Legal Counsel Shen Qiaoqiao walked down the paved stone causeway, her high heels clicking crisply against the flagstones. Beside her marched General Meng Tie, his six-foot-four frame clad in shining black-iron armor, followed by twelve Taichu security guards in clean blue tunics.
Shen Qiaoqiao stopped at the edge of the crater, looking down at the three ruined sect masters with a cheerful, dimpled smile.
