The highest pinnacle of the Central Sovereign Mountain was a solitary, wind-sculpted promontory of dark stone known as Sovereign’s Rest.
Perched five thousand two hundred feet above the land-wide floor, the promontory jutted out over the northern cliff edge like the prow of an ancient sky galleon. Standing upon this rocky ledge, one enjoyed a fully clear, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree panorama of the cosmos. Above stretched the clean, deep cerulean dome of the open sky, and below rolled the boundless, snowy waves of the cloud sea, stretching into the infinite horizon.
The autumn air up here was crisp, clear, and fragrant with the sharp scent of wild mountain cedar and high-sky starlight.
“This is the place,” Lin Xiao said, planting his cotton-slippered feet firmly upon the highest rock and taking a deep, satisfied breath.
Behind him, Gu Qingfeng, Tie Shan, Su Ling’er, and Da Shi arrived on the summit path. The Sword Saint took off his bamboo travel hat, his weathered face lit up by the bright solar rays. It looked out across the endless ocean of clouds.
“An altar of quiet focus?” Gu Qingfeng asked, his tone quiet with solemn respect. “A sky platform where one can commune with the heavenly Dao, cultivate sword intent against the cosmic void, and sever mortal karma?”
