A sound like the heavens tearing in half echoed through the clouds an hour before noon.
Ten miles above the sea, Ancestor Pyre’s massive flame cleaver struck the primary suspension collar of Sky-Tether Two, severing the celestial anchor bolts in a blinding shower of molten iron.
The catastrophic snap of parting metal reverberated through the stratosphere like rolling thunder.
Ten miles of solid Star-Iron chain began to fall.
Each individual link was thirty paces long, forged from solid meteoric iron and weighing over twenty thousand pounds. Together, the falling column formed a three-billion-pound snake of black steel, hurtling through the cloud cover straight toward the northern sea.
The whistling roar of the falling mass pushed a wall of atmospheric pressure ahead of it, flattening the ocean waves into frothing white foam.
On the quarterdeck of the vanguard flagship, Princess Valeria’s viewing scope shattered from the sheer intensity of the sonic boom.
“Scatter the fleet,” Valeria shouted, her voice amplified by her golden qi. “All vessels, reverse oars. Clear the drop zone immediately.”
