The black star-iron whip hissed through the fiery air like an executioner’s scythe.
Barbed with razor-sharp teeth and coated in burning magma, the nine-section whip hurtled toward the master suspension chain.
Forty feet above the churning lava lake, three hundred glass stasis pods hung in precarious balance.
Inside the pods, three hundred elders and genius disciples floated in blue nutrient fluid, completely unaware that death was half a heartbeat away.
Warden Krahl’s massive frame hung suspended in mid-air, his face twisted in homicidal triumph.
For five years, Krahl had reigned as the undisputed Butcher of Sector One.
He had personally overseen the execution of three border rebellions, and his black whip had broken the spine of every martial master who dared resist Grand Regent Malakor’s orders.
Now, seeing his financial masters crushed and his cannons turned against him, the warden had abandoned all reason.
