The sky hall approaching the Floating Granite Conclave Platforms was congested with three hundred thousand tons of high-sky arrogance.
Nine-deck golden war-galleons from the ancient Sage Clans cut through the thin mountain air like gold-trimmed sea monsters. Their hulls were sheathed in hammered leaf-gold that reflected the morning sun with blinding ostentation. Their triple-rigged masts flew banners stitched with sky dragons, soaring vermilion birds, and sovereign royal seals.
At the head of the royal formation cruised the undisputed dreadnought of the northern skies: the Solar Dominance, flagship of the ancient Zhang Sage Clan.
Weighing five thousand tons and powered by forty-eight Grade-5 Spirit Stone Turbines, the Solar Dominance didn’t merely fly. It conquered the airspace through raw, raw sky shifted weight.
Atop its raised dragon-head prow—a fifty-foot gold-trimmed sculpture with fangs carved from raw fire-ruby—stood Young Master Zhang Wuheng.
Zhang Wuheng was nineteen years old, held a Mortal Tier 6 (Transcendent Mortal. Earth Cleanser) training, and was widely regarded as the sharpest axe-spear of the northern provinces. Draped in heavy gold-threaded dragon brocade, his violet lightning pupils swept across the sky with royal disdain.
Behind him, Captain Elder Zhang stood beside a huge, gold-plated brass horn that projected sound for forty miles.
