Crown Prince Ji Hao crouched behind a jagged granite boulder in Dragon-Spine Canyon, tapping the poisoned tip of a black-iron ballista bolt as midnight mist coiled through the gorge.
The cliffs rose three thousand feet on either side, black and sheer against the starry sky. The narrow mountain pass was barely wide enough for two freight wagons to travel side by side. For centuries, this gorge had been known as the Throat of the North, a notorious death trap where falling boulders could crush an army.
Perched high on a rocky outcrop, Crown Prince Ji Hao crouched behind a boulder.
He wore pitch-black dragon-scale armor with no imperial insignia. A black silk mask covered his face, leaving only his cold, arrogant eyes visible. In his right hand, he held his black soul-breaking lance. Behind him, three thousand elite Imperial Dragon-Guards crouched in absolute silence, mounted on armored shadow-leopards. Each guard carried blackened steel sabers and three Forbidden Soul-Extinction Talismans.
“Your Highness,” a masked commander whispered, pointing down into the gorge. “Lantern light at the northern bend. The Taichu treasury convoy has entered the canyon.”
Ji Hao leaned forward, a feral smile spreading beneath his black mask.
Down on the canyon floor, a line of thirty heavy iron wagons rolled slowly along the dirt track. Each wagon was pulled by four heavy draught-beasts and covered in heavy oilcloth stamped with the golden seal of the Taichu University. Ahead of the wagons rode only twenty light outriders carrying paper lanterns.
