The sky above the Primordial Sacred Lands didn’t merely darken. It turned into a swirling vortex of electric death. From the golden apex of the Central Temple of Ten Thousand Sages, an ancient lightning-gathering spire forged from Nine-Heavens Thunder-Marrow Jade crackled with ten million volts of pure old family payback. Arcs of white-hot lightning, each thick enough to engulf a royal war galley, coiled around the nine mountain peaks like sky serpents.
Down on the shattered terrace, High Scribe Checker Mo Sha stood with his black sharkskin robes whipped into tatters by the spark-charged gale, his face twisted in fanatical triumph. Behind him, eighteen Grand Inquisitor Elders raised their bronze judgment staves, channeling their collective Tier 8 Saint Domains into the overhead lightning rod.
“Hear the verdict of the Ancestral Sages!” Mo Sha’s voice boomed across the valley, amplified by the thunder. “Under the Heaven-Purging Decree, this entire arena shall be baptized in Ten-Million-Volt Divine Judgment Fire! No mortal flesh, no heterodox metal, and no false master shall survive!”
Six thousand scholars in the stands scrambled toward the lowest exits, abandoning their robes and ledgers as the static pressure made their skin prickle.
“The Ancestral Judgment Lightning!” Chief Proctor Zhong Shan shouted, hurrying his office exam guards beneath the heavy stone arches of the outer pavilion. “It’s the nonstop star-fire arc from the First Epoch! Clear the arena floor!”
