The golden light of late afternoon bathed the Mistveil Mountains in quiet serenity.
Across the six outer spires of the Radiant Dawn Academy, thirty thousand disciples walked softly on stone pathways. Teachers spoke in hushed murmurs, and flying sword couriers glided on silent updrafts.
Every cultivator in the academy understood the unwritten law established after midnight: *Solitude Spire must not be disturbed.*
Then, the sky began to groan.
It started as a low, sub-audible vibration that rattled the teacups in the dining halls.
Within thirty seconds, the vibration swelled into a deafening, mechanical roar that split the cloud banks wide open.
*ROOOOOAAAR!*
From the northern horizon, the clouds tore apart like wet paper.
Emerging into the airspace of the academy came the Twelve Sky-Dreadnoughts of the Imperial Golden Vanguard.
Disciples dropped their scrolls in horror.
Senior instructors froze mid-stride, staring upward with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Each dreadnought was a six-hundred-foot floating leviathan of reinforced dark-iron, clad in thick sheets of polished gold leaf.
Heavy steam billowed from massive stern exhaust vents, churning the pristine mountain air with the scent of burning spirit oil and hot ozone. Chained elemental leviathan cores roared deep within their armored hulls, their blue reactor pulses thrumming through the clouds.
Along the broadsides of each vessel, three hundred heavy solar cannons pointed toward the earth like bristling iron teeth.
In the center of the armada sailed the imperial flagship, *The Emperor's Judgment*.
Its prow was carved in the likeness of a roaring golden lion with rubies the size of carriages for eyes. High atop the main mast fluttered the two-hundred-foot banner of the Imperial Inquisition—a black field emblazoned with twin burning suns.
The combined shadow of the twelve floating fortresses blotted out the afternoon light.
A cold, artificial twilight fell over the academy archipelago.
Down on the grand terrace of the First Spire, Chancellor Valen almost choked on his own spit.
"The Vanguard..." Valen gasped, clutching the balcony balustrade so hard the marble groaned. "By the ancestors, Drake brought the entire First Fleet!"
Elder Shen of the Medicine Pavilion hurried to his side, his face grey with terror.
"Chancellor!" Shen wheezed, his silver hair fluttering in the gale-force winds kicked up by the dreadnought rotors. "Drake has the High Warrant! If he fires those solar cannons toward the Seventh Spire, the fallout will vaporize our lower academies!"
"He isn't going to vaporize the academy," Valen hissed through clenched teeth, cold sweat pouring down his neck. "He is going to do something a thousand times worse! He is going to wake the Sovereign!"
Valen’s heart nearly seized in his chest.
He remembered the midnight sun. He remembered the Void Kraken treated like a stray dog. He remembered the ancient Ghost King currently pulling weeds with a wooden rake.
If Drake provoked the being slumbering on that peak, the Twelve Sky-Dreadnoughts would not be shot down.
They would be turned into scrap iron and compressed into paperweights!
"Move!" Valen roared, drawing his silver rapier. "All senior elders, to the boundary bridge! Intercept the flagship before Drake commits suicide and drags us all to the underworld!"
Twenty high elders leaped into the air, riding their flying swords in a desperate, frantic intercept vector toward the Seventh Spire.
Above the mountain gorge, *The Emperor's Judgment* descended with ominous majesty.
Its massive repulsor arrays groaned as it locked into a stationary hover directly over the chasm separating the Sixth Spire from Solitude Spire.
The ship’s heavy brass gangway lowered with a series of thunderous hydraulic clanks, anchoring onto the stone bridgehead with enough force to crack the rock.
A company of two hundred Imperial Inquisitors marched down the ramp in lockstep.
They wore mirror-polished steel plate armor and white cloaks, clutching heavy repeating crossbows loaded with void-shattering bolts.
Leading them down the ramp with calm, deliberate strides was Grand Inquisitor Drake.
Drake’s white high-inquisitor cloak billowed dramatically in the downdraft. His raven hair was slicked back, and his grey eyes surveyed the mountain landscape with utter coldness.
His right hand rested casually upon the hilt of the Sun-Cleaver at his hip.
Before Drake could take ten steps along the bridge, Chancellor Valen and twenty elders dropped out of the sky, landing heavily upon the stone bridgehead.
Valen immediately raised both palms, bowing until his spine was curved like an archery bow.
"Greetings, Grand Inquisitor Drake!" Valen shouted over the roar of the ship's engines, his voice laced with desperate formality. "Radiant Dawn Academy welcomes the Imperial Inquisition! May the Emperor reign for ten thousand autumns!"
Drake stopped five paces away, looking down his sharp nose at the bowing Chancellor.
"Chancellor Valen," Drake said, his voice quiet, flat, and chillingly clear. "You have let your hair grow wild since our last meeting in the capital. And your academy appears remarkably lax."
Valen wiped a bead of sweat from his eyebrow, keeping his posture bent. "The grand inquisitor honors us with his presence. May we inquire what imperial decree brings the full Golden Vanguard to our humble outer provinces?"
Drake’s lips curled into a thin, predatory sneer.
He reached into his white cloak, drew a scroll sealed with imperial gold wax, and unfurled it with a sharp snap of his wrist.
"By direct decree of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Aurelius," Drake proclaimed, his words carrying the weight of imperial law. "Radiant Dawn Academy is under immediate imperial martial quarantine. All airspace is closed. All sect assets are requisitioned."
He pointed a white-gloved finger straight across the suspension bridge, targeting the humble cedar cottage perched on Solitude Spire.
"You harbor an unregistered, heretical anomaly," Drake said coldly. "A rogue entity that unlawfully generated a false sun at midnight, cracking seventy-two divination mirrors in the imperial capital and threatening imperial stability. Surrender the anomaly to my custody at once."
Valen’s knees turned to water.
Beside him, Elder Shen clutched his chest, looking as if he might faint on the spot.
"Grand Inquisitor Drake, I beg you to hear reason!" Valen pleaded, stepping forward with trembling hands. "That is not a heretical anomaly! That is not a rogue cultivator! That is... that is the Living Solar Sovereign!"
Drake’s eyes narrowed with cold amusement.
"A sovereign?" Drake echoed, letting out a soft, mocking scoff. "Valen, have your wits deserted you in your old age? A mountain recluse hides in a rotting wooden shack, sets off an unstable spatial device, and you fall to your knees like a frightened child?"
"He did not set off a device!" Valen yelled, abandoning all courtly decorum in sheer terror for his life. "His core holds the mass of a celestial world! Last midnight, his breathing alone cleansed twenty thousand crippled cultivators across our provinces! The ancient Nether Ghost King is currently raking his front lawn!"
Drake looked at Valen as if the old chancellor were a rabid stray dog.
"Ghost kings and celestial cores," Drake said, his voice dripping with venomous disdain. "Fairy tales whispered by cowardly elders who have forgotten the taste of imperial steel. The throne recognizes only one sovereign, and that is Emperor Aurelius."
Drake stepped forward, his heavy riding boots clicking sharply on the stone bridge.
"I do not care if this hermit crawled out of the First Epoch," Drake said, his hand gripping the Sun-Cleaver. "If he has a core, it will be sealed. If he has bones, they will kneel before the throne. And if he resists, my twelve dreadnoughts will reduce this spire into a smoking crater."
"Drake, you fool!" Valen screamed, his voice cracking with sheer hysteria. "You are not bringing an army! You are bringing dry firewood to an active furnace! Turn the fleet around!"
Drake didn't even blink.
"Stand aside, Chancellor," Drake commanded, his grey eyes flashing with deadly intent. "Or I will execute you on the spot for imperial treason."
He raised his left hand, signaling the gunners aboard *The Emperor's Judgment*.
High above, thirty heavy solar cannons whirred as their massive barrels swiveled, locking their targeting runes directly onto the small cedar cottage.
***
Over on the front porch of Solitude Spire.
Felix Vance was resting his head against the woven back of his wicker chair, his straw slippers propped comfortably on the pine bench.
He had been on the absolute verge of drifting into a wonderful, uninterrupted afternoon nap.
The temperature had been perfect. The gentle honey-scented breeze from the Sun-Lotus Cabbage had been soothing. His miniature Sol-Class core had been warming his lower back like a dream.
Then, the sun disappeared.
Felix opened one eye.
A massive, ugly iron shadow had fallen over his porch.
The ambient temperature dropped two degrees as the sunlight was completely cut off by a dozen colossal flying metal bricks hovering directly overhead.
And worse than the shade was the noise.
*VUUUUUUMMMMMMM—CLACK-CLACK-CLACK!*
The deep, droning vibration of twelve oversized engines resonated through the mountain gorge, rattling the empty teacup on the cedar table with an irritating *tink-tink-tink*.
Felix sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes in annoyed disbelief.
"Are you serious right now?" Felix muttered aloud.
Beside him, Lyra Ashford was already on her feet.
Her ancestral silver rapier was half-drawn, its blade glowing with pale sunlight as her golden eyes locked onto the imperial dreadnoughts with murderous fury.
"Senior Brother," Lyra whispered, her voice cold as ice. "The Imperial Inquisition has dared cast its filthy shadow over your sanctuary. Give the word, and I will sever their flagship from the sky."
Felix didn't answer.
He was staring up at the lead ship with an expression of deep, profound irritation.
【Target: Imperial Sky-Dreadnought 'Sun-Emperor's Wrath'】 【Class: Heavy Armored Flying Brick (Tenth-Tier Sky-Galley)】 【Noise Emission: 84 dB (Extreme Nap Violation)】 【Inspector Note: Over-engineered transport barge with obnoxious gold trim. Engine mufflers completely nonexistent. Recommended response: File noise complaint or chuck an old boot at the radiator grille.】
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his obsidian AetherDeck.
The screen lit up instantly, flashing a bright red warning banner across the glass:
Felix stared at the prompt, his temples throbbing with mild indignation.
"Eighty-four decibels," Felix grumbled, shaking his head. "They're hovering right over my porch, vibrating my teacup, and blocking my natural lighting. Do these NPCs have zero etiquette?"
He slipped his feet firmly into his straw slippers, stood up from his wicker chair, and stretched his shoulders.
Down on the boundary bridge, Grand Inquisitor Drake drew the Sun-Cleaver with a sharp hiss of polished steel, preparing to march forward with two hundred elite inquisitors.
And on the Seventh Spire porch, the supreme recluse frowned, walked toward the wooden steps, and let out an exhausted, long-suffering sigh.
"Man," Felix complained, rubbing his stiff neck. "A guy can't even get twenty minutes of AFK rest without some random world event popping up on his lawn."