Ten thousand light-years of roaring silver star-blades filled the entire sky above Engine #1.
The heat and pressure from the three thousand compressed Sword-Dragons at the head of the river were so intense that the outer space around the Galactic Core Sword-Tomb began to warp and crack like thin glass. Behind the broken stone coffin wall, Elder He and the sixteen other runaway sect elders were grinning so wide their cheeks hurt, waiting for the moment Pei Xuan and his train were ground into cosmic dust.
“Die! Die! Die!” Elder He shrieked, waving his fists in the air. “Let’s see your four-eyed bookkeeper write an invoice when he’s chopped into ten million pieces!”
On the roof of the black-and-gold locomotive, however, Pei Xuan didn’t even raise a shield.
Instead, he tapped the glowing blue screen of his RTS Territory System and pulled three items into the spinning slots of the Fusion Cube.
In the first slot spun his own [Rank 9 Dry-Well Inner Galaxy]—a vast internal star-field inside his dantian where ten billion miniature Furnace-Stars burned day and night with the combined martial blood-heat and immortal Qi of forty-seven trillion citizens.
In the second slot sat a thick, dog-eared leather book with a red ribbon bookmark: the [Dry-Well Village Town Lawbook (Article 4: Public Safety & Confiscation of Unlicensed Sharp Objects)].
