The iron siege overhead frame groaned under the tension of eight thousand pounds of wound steel cable.
Erected at the threshold of Entry hall 013 by the combat engineers of the Azure Firmament Sect, the machine was a terrifying engine of brute force. Standing eighty arm-lengths tall, built from blackened iron heavy beams salvaged from the wrecked hull of the Iron Crane, it carried a suspended battering ram tipped with a massive head of cast astral steel.
The objective of the sect engineers was brutal in its simplicity. They couldn’t conquer the vast maze of the lower halls while Qiao Ming controlled the water gates. So they intended to bring down the Great Arch of Entry hall 013, collapsing sixty thousand tons of ancient stonework across the central avenue to seal the refugees inside a dead-end pocket where they could be starved into submission.
The battering ram swung back on its heavy iron chains, drawn by three steam winches that screeched like dying pigs. Fifty armored engineers stoked the coal boxes with pitch, preparing for the first bone-shaking blow against the keystone of the arch.
Yan Zhiqiu knelt atop the high low roof wall flanking the archway, her brow furrowed as she studied the machine through the aiming sights of her side. Over her shoulder, the Broken Slate hummed softly, projecting faint sharp-angled lines of stress analysis across her slate tablet.
