The southern sky above the Tianxuan Royal Capital didn’t merely darken. It curdled into a toxic, boiling viridian soup.
A five-hundred-foot pillar of emerald draconic fire sliced through the low-hanging cloud deck, lighting up the city’s black glass castle walls in sickening green light.
high-sky blast waves rolled across the metropolis, rattling roof tiles, shattering fancy glaze, and bending copper weather vanes like cheap tin.
Inside the grand lobby of the 1-Star Master Teacher Pavilion, sixty high-born examinees were actively losing their composure.
“The Cloud-Mist Ridge has fallen!” a young noble shrieked, dropping his jade pendant onto the marble floor. “The sacred beast holding arrays are shattered!”
“A Rank-Two Peak beast... Half-step into Rank Three!” an elder wailed, clutching his silver beard. “That’s a world-ending entity capable of leveling entire city wards! Where is the Royal Army?!”
Scribes scrambled over each other. They knocked over dark wood desks and scattered stacks of sign-off parchment into the air like frightened pigeons.
Through the shattered double doors, the dying beast-tamer guard convulsed on the floor.
His silver-scaled chest plate was half-melted. It hissed with emerald acid smoke that ate deep grooves into the polished marble tiles.
Grand Elder Yan stood numbed behind the registration counter, his knuckles white against the desk.
“The 2-Star Cold-Iron Chains...” Yan whispered, his voice cracking with horror. “Forged from ten-thousand-year sky star-iron... Cooled in ice-slow spring water... How could they snap?!”
Frank stood three paces away, fully calm by the screaming mob.
He carefully lined up the edges of his newly stamped 1-Star Master Teacher certificate, folded the thick sheepskin parchment into crisp thirds. Then he slid it into the waterproof pocket of his leather tool pouch.
He zipped the pouch shut with a smooth, metal zip.
Then, Frank reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his yellow carpenter’s pencil. Then he tapped his temple.
High above the city, the emergency siren continued its wild, ear-splitting assault.
WOOOOOOOO-WAAAAAAAAA! WOOOOOOOO-WAAAAAAAAA!
The pitch fluctuated wildly, clipping into harsh, distorted square waves that made Frank’s left eyelid twitch with intense clockwork irritation.
“Who installed this broadcast system?” Frank muttered, looking up at the stained-glass ceiling with deep disgust. “They’re over-driving the amplification stage by at least eighteen decibels. The diaphragms are bottoming out against the pole pieces.”
Beside him, Shen Shitou rested his twenty-pound demolition sledgehammer against his shoulder, glaring at the panicked elders.
“Master,” Shitou spoke, his voice steady as solid mountain stone. “The sky-drum wavers with clashing sky-trial. The mortal rulers know nothing of ringing balance.”
Princess Ling’er’s palms were cool and dry, her stance spotless as she adjusted her linen cuffs. “When the rulers lack internal holding, their alarms sound like weeping crows.”
Niu Mang leaned on his hard dark metal trench spade, looking at the greenish sky. “Smells like burning sulfur, Master. Like when the manure heap in Hongwu caught fire last winter.”
Frank tapped his temple again. His internal console projected a clean amber readout:
Frank closed the floating box with a small sigh.
“Forty-eight percent ringing distortion,” Frank muttered. “Whoever tuned this horn array needs their spark license revoked. It’s not an alarm. It’s a sound hazard.”
Grand Elder Yan stumbled forward, grabbing Frank’s denim sleeve with trembling fingers.
“Teacher Lu!” Yan pleaded, his eyes bloodshot with terror. “You possess the Ancient Void Heart! You understand the deepest mechanics of Heaven and Earth! What do you make of this sky omen?!”
Frank looked down at Yan’s trembling fingers on his sleeve, then gently pried them loose.
“I make of it that your city sound engineers are deaf,” Frank said flatly. “And your street grid has zero firebreaks. If that green fire spreads to the timber warehouses on South Market Street, your load-bearing losses will exceed ten million silver coins.”
Before Grand Elder Yan could process the mundane concept of town firebreaks, the flat stone slabs outside the Pavilion shook with thunderous force.
CLOP-CLOP!
A company of thirty heavy royal cavalrymen surged into the grand courtyard. Their gold-lacquered armor shone under the eerie green sky.
Behind them rumbled a huge chariot built from pure dragon-bone gold. He was drawn by six horned sky stallions whose nostrils flared with golden smoke.
Hovering above the chariot was the royal banner of the Tianxuan royal family. A coiled golden dragon clutching a sun in its five-clawed talons.
The golden chariot came to a screeching halt before the Pavilion steps.
Standing atop the raised chariot platform was a young man clad in shimmering golden silk robes stitched with nine coiled dragons.
His hair was bound by a royal jade crown adorned with nine pearl tassels. His waist was cinched by a golden dragon-head belt set with blood-red rubies.
His handsome features were twisted with arrogant fury and barely suppressed anxiety.
Crown Prince Chu Tianxiao.
The supreme heir to the Tianxuan throne and the honorary commander of the Royal Beast Taming Guard.
“Grand Elder Yan! Elder Mo!” the Crown Prince’s voice boomed across the courtyard, amplified by a golden megaphone magic charm. “By order of the Royal Court, the entire Master Teacher Pavilion is commandeered under Emergency War Protocol!”
The cavalrymen leaped from their mounts, drawing heavy curved scimitars and surrounding the Pavilion entrance in a ring of cold, gleaming steel.
Grand Elder Yan and Elder Mo rushed down the marble steps. He dropped to both knees on the stone floor.
“This old servant pays respects to the Crown Prince!” Yan cried, bowing low. “Your Highness, what’s the situation at the Cloud-Mist Colosseum?!”
Crown Prince Chu Tianxiao sneered down at the kneeling elders, his eyes flashing with haughty contempt.
“Unfit old dogs!” Chu Tianxiao barked, waving his golden sleeve. “The Beast Taming Guild fed the Viridian Dragon-Hound low-grade spiritual herbs, causing its bloodline to revolt! It snapped the old family cold-iron chains and breached the inner arena!”
The Prince’s chest puffed out with regal arrogance.
“However, this Prince has brought the royal heirloom: the Nine-Heavens Beast-Locking Banner! My royal bloodline possesses the sovereign mandate to subdue all under Heaven!”
Chu Tianxiao swept his cold gaze across the assembled teachers, examinees, and scribes.
“Every 1-Star and 2-Star Master Teacher present shall right away form a backup vanguard and accompany my royal chariot to the Colosseum! You shall provide spiritual reinforcement while this Prince executes the Royal Subjugation Ritual!”
The Prince’s voice sharpened into a lethal threat.
“Anyone who hesitates, retreats, or fails to answer the royal call shall be carried out on the spot for high treason! Their nine ages shall be purged, and their old family tablets burned to ash!”
A wave of whimpering panic swept through the high-born examinees.
“Accompany the Prince to the Colosseum?!” a noble youth stammered, his teeth chattering. “A berserk half-step Rank-Three dragon beast will burn up us in half a breath!”
“We’re scholars! We’re not frontline beast wardens!” another cried softly, clutching his silk sashes.
Frank walked out onto the Pavilion roofed porch, hands in his denim pockets.
He looked at the Crown Prince’s massive gold chariot, then at the six snorting sky stallions, and finally at the six-inch solid gold axle pins holding the wheels together.
Frank frowned, his carpenter’s instincts right away bristling.
“Solid gold axle pins?” Frank muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Gold has a yield strength of barely thirty tons of pressure. It’s malleable as butter. One high-speed curb strike and those pins will shear like wet noodles.”
Beside him, Crown Prince Chu Tianxiao’s sharp gaze snapped toward Frank.
The Prince’s eyes narrowed into dangerous, icy slits as he took in Frank’s blue denim jacket, dusty leather boots, and tool belt.
“You there,” Chu Tianxiao commanded, pointing his golden sword sheath directly at Frank’s chest. “What manner of vulgar laborer are you? Why do you stand upright before the Royal Dragon Banner without kneeling?!”
Grand Elder Yan broke into a cold sweat, wildly scurrying forward on his knees.
“Your Highness, please stay your wrath!” Yan stammered. “This... This is Teacher Lu Zhen! He just passed the 1-Star Master Teacher check today with a never seen before, historic perfect score of one hundred points!”
“A perfect score?” Chu Tianxiao scoffed, his lips curling into an arrogant sneer. “A country bumpkin in blue rags scores full marks in our capital? The standards of your Pavilion have truly rotted to the core.”
The Crown Prince drew his golden dragon-hilted blade halfway from its sheath. The blade was humming with sharp royal qi.
“I care not for your academic scores! The kingdom is under red alert! Teacher Lu, take your three crude laborers and report to the vanguard chariot right away! You shall carry the royal beast-binding stakes to the Colosseum!”
Shen Shitou’s knuckles turned white around the handle of his demolition sledgehammer.
A dangerous, low-hum began to vibrate through Shitou’s silver-steel-heavy dark metal bone channels. “Master... Allow this student to introduce this crowned monkey to the load-bearing limits of gold leaf.”
“Easy, Shitou,” Frank said, his tone entirely calm and deadpan. “Never engage with aggressive traffic. It wastes billable hours.”
Frank looked at the Crown Prince, took his yellow pencil from behind his ear, and tapped his palm.
“Your Highness,” Frank said evenly. “We have our own cart. We’ll follow the convoy at a safe stopping distance of fifty yards. Keep your horse convoy clear of the center line. Your axle pins don’t have enough shear margin for sudden lane changes.”
Chu Tianxiao stared at Frank like the young man were fully insane.
No one in the entire Tianxuan Kingdom had ever spoken to the Crown Prince about ‘safe stopping distances’ or ‘axle pin shear margins.’
“Insolent peasant,” Chu Tianxiao hissed, slamming his golden blade back into its sword sheath with a crisp CLACK. “If your cart lags behind by more than three breaths, my cavalry will run you down and feed your carcasses to the war hounds! Mount up! To the Colosseum!”
The Prince raised his golden whip.
CRACK!
The six sky stallions surged forward with earth-shattering driving force, their hooves churning up clouds of smoke and gravel as the royal convoy tore out of the courtyard toward the burning southern horizon.
Grand Elder Yan and the examinees scrambled in terror toward their private carriages and mounts. It screamed orders to their retainers.
Frank strolled down the marble steps toward the small pine cart waiting by the hitching post.
He checked the harness on their old mule, made sure the tie-down straps on the seasoned pine lumber were cinched tight, and climbed onto the driver’s bench.
“Alright,” Frank said, picking up the leather reins. “The wholesale lumber yard is right next to the Colosseum. If the green dragon torches the timber depot before we buy our floor beams, our framing schedule is blown.”
Frank flicked the reins.
“Let’s go see what broke their cold-iron chains.”