The iron door scraped along its track. Meng Kui came through first with his six-foot broadsword held low. An Earth-Wall Charm cast a dull yellow shell around his armor.
Six guards from the depot’s strongest reserve followed. Unlike the Qi Gathering raiders at Starlight Hall, these men had all reached Foundation Establishment. They wore black steel, with iron visors and no guild crests. Four carried hooked spears. Two held repeating crossbows. The other two from the dry dock stayed outside to watch the roof.
Lu Dong came in last. A hooded brass lantern hung from his hand.
“Shut it,” Meng said. “Drop the bar. I don’t want him getting to the canal.”
Two men slid the door shut. The iron bar rang as it fell into its cradles.
Lu swept the lantern across walls of dry paper bales eight feet high. The room smelled of pulp, oil, and bitter alchemy stock.
“Two left, two right,” Meng told the spearmen. “Check the oil casks. Bring him down, but leave his hands alone. The guild needs them.”
The men split into pairs. Meng and Lu went up the central aisle with the two crossbowmen.
