At the heart of the Wind-Howl Star Cluster spun the Astral Hurricane Eye—a terrifying, hundred-thousand-mile vortex of green-and-black cosmic gales that had raged non-stop for half a million years.
For the Astral Wind Immortal Sect, this hurricane belt was their most sacred forbidden zone and their greatest natural fortress. The outer rings of the hurricane spun fast enough to rip Rank 7 spaceships into iron shavings, while around the calmer outer rim floated thirty rocky “Servant Moons.”
On those thirty barren Servant Moons lived ten million outer-sect handymen, herb-diggers, and furnace-stokers, along with two hundred billion mortal serfs who farmed wind-reeds and polished wind-jade for the inner sect. Because the inner sect hoarded all the meat and spirit grain inside the central palace, the outer servants and serfs were only fed one bowl of watery grey reed-gruel a day—while freezing half to death in the gale backdrafts of the Hurricane Eye.
At the back of the Light-Year Sword-Rail Express, as the train pulled up right beside the outer wall of the roaring green hurricane, Grand Elder Feng Luan was still dangling from the [Galactic Illegal-Parking Tow-Claw] on the prow of his impounded jade dreadnought.
Seeing the hundred-thousand-mile Astral Hurricane Eye looming ahead, Grand Elder Feng Luan tried one last time to put on a fierce face, even though he had just licked a drop of lamb grease off the train’s rear bumper when nobody was looking.
