“Smash their gate to dust!”
Three hundred feet above Golden-Crow Civic Plaza, Deacon Liu of the Azure-Sword Sect stomped his right boot down on the flat blade of his six-foot flying broadsword.
SHING!
Liquid Foundation Qi poured out of his dantian like a bursting river dam. Unlike Rank 4 Qi Gathering cultivators, whose internal Qi was still thin gas, a Rank 5 Foundation Establishment master held thick, heavy liquid Qi inside their meridians. With a single wave of his sleeve, Deacon Liu condensed a thirty-foot crescent of icy blue sword light that made the morning air drop twenty degrees in an instant.
“Let me add a taste of Myriad-Pill Pavilion’s Alchemy Fire!” Elder Huo barked with a cruel grin. He slapped the fat belly of the flying brass gourd beneath his feet. The gourd’s mouth popped open, spitting out a roaring green fireball the size of a hay wagon that smelled of rotten sulfur and poisonous blister-weed.
Not to be outdone, fat Steward Qian of the Joyous-Gold Sect giggled and flicked five heavy gold coins from his sleeve. In mid-air, the five coins expanded to the size of millstones, spinning with sharp metallic whistles as they aimed straight for the red lacquer pillars of the Dry-Well Civic Hall!
