The Grand Coliseum of the Radiant Dawn Academy smelled of roasted melon seeds, hot crushed stone, and dry ozone.
Thousands of disciples sat packed onto the towering granite bleachers. Banners of spun azure silk fluttered from the perimeter watchtowers, snapping in the warm morning breeze.
Down in the center of the stadium, iron-reinforced sand pits stretched across three hundred yards of open ground. This was the third day of the Annual Beast Assessment, the most prestigious demonstration of martial mastery in the outer peaks.
Up on the eastern viewing tier, an isolated pavilion sat tucked beneath the broad shade of a purple jacaranda tree.
A thick velvet rope kept the eager disciples at a distance of thirty paces. Beyond that rope, two gilded plaques hung from polished silver stanchions, engraved with fresh golden lettering:
【Zone: Solitude Spire Sanctuary Observation Suite】 【Notice: Extreme Silence Enforced by Order of the Grand Chancellor】
Grand Chancellor Zhao had personally arranged the suite yesterday afternoon.
He had bowed three times outside Felix’s crooked garden fence, sweating through his formal silk robes. He had begged Felix to attend for just an hour, promising that his presence would honor the academy’s ancestral founders and bless the trials with primordial fortune.
Felix had refused three times.
He only changed his mind when Zhao mentioned that the suite had free iced winterberry melon tea, plush feather daybeds, and zero mandatory clapping.
Right now, Felix Vance was sprawled across the widest wicker daybed in the pavilion.
He wore his favorite faded gray tunic and a pair of frayed straw slippers. His head rested against a plump linen pillow. In his right hand, he cradled his cracked obsidian console, his thumb lazily tapping the center groove.
The retro amber display flickered softly in the dappled tree shade:
Felix tapped `[DISMISS]` without looking.
"Too much clutter on the UI," he muttered, reaching down to pick up a frosted porcelain tumbler of winterberry tea. "Every mobile game updates with five useless popups before you can even claim your daily login bonus."
Beside the daybed, Lyra Ashford stood in immaculate silver and white robes.
Her family rapier rested in an engraved scabbard at her slender hip. She held a delicate bamboo tray heaped with chilled, peeled green grapes.
Whenever Felix took a sip of tea, Lyra tilted her head, her golden eyes wide with religious reverence.
*Senior Brother is already communing with the fundamental frequencies of the cosmos,* Lyra thought, watching his thumb twitch against the obsidian screen. *He appears to be tapping a mundane slab of slate, but each movement traces the hidden trajectories of the constellations. He shields his supreme insight behind the guise of mortal boredom to spare our weak minds from unraveling!*
She stepped forward on silent soles, setting a chilled grape on the edge of his saucer.
"Senior Brother," Lyra said softly, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the cosmic flow. "The beast-masters have entered the central ring. Elder Guan is preparing the tier-eight spiritual beast for the sovereign demonstration."
"Cool," Felix said, chewing a grape. "As long as nobody blows a trumpet near my ears, they can wrestle whatever they want."
On the armrest of Felix’s wicker chair, Barnaby the Clockwork Owl stood completely motionless.
The owl’s brass body gleamed under the filtered sunlight. Two polished amber crystal eyes stared straight ahead into the stadium with a dead, unblinking glare.
Wedged deep and tight into Barnaby’s open brass beak was a thick black rubber stopper. It sealed his vocal bellows with an airtight, permanent grip.
Locked firmly in the grip of Barnaby’s three brass talons was a dull copper coin.
Felix had jammed the rubber into the bird weeks ago to shut down his pompous 6:00 AM wake-up speeches, then tapped the coin into his claws to keep his perching reflex busy.
Inside Barnaby’s brass chest, miniature copper gears spun with hysterical, blinding speed.
*Outrage!* Barnaby’s internal chronometer hissed in silent fury. *Desecration of celestial hierarchy! I am the Horological Herald of the Astral Dawn! I should be seated upon the Golden Roost of the High Empyrean, proclaiming the turning of the great cosmic ages!*
Barnaby’s amber retinas pulsed with heated steam.
*Instead, this pajama-clad slug drags me to a public dirt pit and uses me as a decorative bookend! And this insulting slug-metal coin! My talons are locked in a mechanical balance loop! If I drop this mortal copper disc, my gyro-stabilizer will tip my body into the melon bowl!*
A faint, muffled vibration buzzed from behind the rubber stopper:
*"Mmmph! Mmm-grrr-ph!"*
Felix reached over without glancing up from his game, patting the top of Barnaby’s polished head with two fingers.
"Good bird," Felix murmured. "Keep holding that coin. You're doing great on sentry duty."
Barnaby’s internal cogs ground against each other so hard they produced a tiny wisp of black smoke from his ear vents.
***
Down in the coliseum sand, the atmosphere was reaching a fever pitch.
Twelve senior beast-handlers from the Beast Pavilion marched into the arena, clad in heavy chainmail woven from spirit-silver. Each handler held a thick iron chain attached to a massive rolling steel cage.
Above the cage, the air warped and shimmered with intense heat. Crackling arcs of azure lightning danced across the iron bars, discharging into the sand with sharp, whip-like snaps.
Elder Guan strode to the center of the ring, raising both hands to address the roaring crowd.
His emerald robes billowed with surging wind mana, carrying his arrogant, booming voice to every tier of the stadium:
"Disciples of the Radiant Dawn! Honored guests of the outer realms! Today, the Beast Pavilion unveils the crowning terror of the Azure Ridge!"
Elder Guan gestured with a dramatic flourish toward the rolling cage.
"Captured in the storm crags of the Outer Void, we present the **Azure-Crested Thunder Gryphon**! An eighth-tier apex sovereign of the tempest!"
The iron cage doors fell open with a concussive clang.
*SKRRRRRRREEEEEE-BOOOOOM!*
A piercing screech ripped through the coliseum, loud enough to shatter ordinary clay roof tiles.
Leaping out onto the white sand came a beast of pure primordial slaughter. It stood thirty feet tall at the shoulder, with the muscular body of a golden imperial lion and the razor-crested head and wings of a giant predatory raptor.
Its feathers were not keratin; they were serrated plates of magnetic storm-iron, layered like dragon scales. Along the edges of its eighty-foot wingspan, blue plasma curled and hissed, cooking the surrounding sand into brittle glass.
Elder Guan smiled proudly, turning toward the high elders' gallery.
"Observe the Nine-Ring Adamantine Containment Collar locked around its neck!" Guan proclaimed, pointing at a heavy band of runic metal pulsing with violet suppression arrays. "Even an eighth-tier beast with the blood of ancient storm dragons must submit before the supreme binding arts of our pavilion!"
In the high VIP suite, Felix tapped a button on his console.
A translucent system bracket popped up over the roaring beast in the distance:
【Target: Azure-Crested Thunder Gryphon】 【Threat Level: Tier 8 (Boss Class)】 【Current Mood: Highly Irritated / Low Blood Sugar】 【Status: Containment Collar Integrity: 12% (Severe Metal Fatigue)】
Felix blinked at the tooltip.
"Huh," Felix muttered, taking another sip of his iced tea. "The durability on that dog collar is in the red. Those handlers definitely skipped their gear repair cycle."
Lyra leaned forward, her brow furrowing with instant concern. "Senior Brother? Did your celestial sight perceive an irregularity in the beast's spiritual meridians?"
"No meridians," Felix said lazily. "Just poor maintenance. If you don't patch your equipment before a raid boss, the whole run wipes."
Lyra’s breath hitched in her throat.
*A raid boss? The whole run wipes?!* she repeated internally, her knuckles whitening around the grape tray. *Senior Brother is warning me! The ancient array is flawed! He sees the hidden flaw in the grand elder's formation with a single passing glance!*
Before Lyra could speak another word, the beast moved.
Down in the sand, Elder Guan raised a runic bronze whip, intending to force the Gryphon to bow toward the chancellor's box.
"Kneel, beast!" Guan bellowed, channeling lightning mana into the whip.
The whip lashed out, striking the sand three inches before the Gryphon's talons.
That was the final insult the beast needed.
The Thunder Gryphon's jade-colored eyes flared with blinding, incandescent wrath. The ancient storm blood in its veins ignited, surging through its arteries in a furious tidal wave of raw atmospheric mana!
*SNAP! CRACK! BOOOOOOM!*
The Nine-Ring Adamantine Containment Collar did not simply fail. It violently exploded into three dozen jagged, white-hot shrapnel fragments!
A violent shockwave of blue lightning blasted outward in a three-hundred-foot ring.
The twelve senior handlers were thrown through the air like ragdolls, their silver chainmail smoking as they crashed against the perimeter stadium walls.
Elder Guan let out a strangled shriek, his emerald robes catching fire as he was hurled fifty paces across the sand, tumbling into the drainage ditch!
The defensive barrier around the arena flared with crimson warning runes, but the massive burst of high-voltage lightning overloaded the runic pylons.
*Crack-crack-shatter!*
Three barrier pylons burst into emerald sparks, collapsing the containment dome entirely!
"Containment breach!" an elder screamed from the bleachers. "The eighth-tier sovereign has broken free! Clear the arena! Evacuate the lower tiers!"
Panic erupted instantly. Thousands of disciples scrambled over stone benches, knocking over melon baskets and trampling silk banners in their frantic rush toward the exit tunnels.
Out in the open air, the Thunder Gryphon spread its eighty-foot iron wings.
It launched into the skybox with a concussive boom of thunder that shook the granite foundation of the coliseum. Circling high above the stadium, its razor crest flared with blue plasma as it searched for a target worthy of its fury.
It ignored the fleeing disciples. It ignored the smoking elders.
Its ancient predatory instincts locked onto the only location in the entire mountain range that radiated an abnormal, suffocating concentration of pure authority.
The beast's jade eyes snapped directly toward the shaded jacaranda tree.
Toward the isolated VIP waiting pavilion.
Toward Felix Vance, who was currently tapping his console to see if the morning login bonus reset at noon.
*SKRRRRRRREEEEEE!*
With an ear-splitting shriek of condensed sonic lightning, the Thunder Gryphon tucked its wings into an aerodynamic dive.
It dropped from the upper atmosphere like a falling meteor, trailing fifty yards of blinding blue plasma, hurtling straight toward Solitude Spire's quiet afternoon lunch.