The collective intent of three hundred 7-Star Saint Swords turned the surrounding air into shimmering, high-pressure waves. Sword-light of crimson, sapphire, and emerald surged toward the base of the Central Primordial Stele like a tidal wave of sky blades. The guards moved in an ancient, timed together battle array. Their boots left shattered grooves in the white dragon-bone marble.
“Halt the trespassers!” the guard captain roared, dropping from the air with his heavy cleaving broadsword held in a two-handed overhead grip. The blade crackled with the tough weight of an advanced Half-Step Void Saint, aiming straight for the center of the silver work frames.
Frank didn’t look over his shoulder. He had both hands placed squarely on the extruded side rails of the light metal ladder. He tested the tension of the rungs.
“Three points of contact at all times during ascent,” Frank instructed calmly. His voice carried over the whistling blades. “Two hands and one foot, or two feet and one hand. Never carry heavy loose tools in your hands while climbing. Use a proper tool belt or rig a hauling line. And keep your belt buckle centered between the stiles to maintain your balance point.”
He tapped the side rail to emphasize the point to his students. “And remember standard duty ratings. This is a heavy-duty Type IAA unit, rated for three hundred and seventy-five pounds of live working load. That means no horseplay on the rungs.”
