A wide spiral staircase of black basalt led down from the rear of the Vermilion Imperial Vault toward the subterranean foundations of the palace.
With nine hours remaining until his two-thousand-one-hundred-and-sixty-hour cap, Kaelen Vance walked unhurriedly down the steps in his padded wool slippers. The hem of his soft white bathrobe brushed the ancient stone.
Sera Thorne, twelve-year-old Mina Vance, and Old Barnaby walked closely beside him. At the top of the gallery stairs, Elder Sterling held the rear guard with his longsword ready. Above them in the vault, Deacon Vane and Linnea organized the six thousand Sovereign Jade Cores and coordinated the five hundred thousand allied troops.
With every step down into the bedrock, the air grew noticeably warmer.
“The First Pill Ancestor carved this stairwell out of cooling basalt thirty thousand years ago,” Old Barnaby noted quietly. He ran his regrown left hand along the smooth stone wall. “Look at the drainage grooves beside the steps. They were built to channel stray earth-fire away from the upper alchemy vaults.”
“Yet the mortar between the blocks is cracking from below,” Sera observed. Her amber eyes scanned the faint red glow seeping through the lower masonry. “The Vermilion God-Emperor is forcing the subterranean fire-wells far past their safe pressure.”
