Two thousand galaxy-splitting beams of black-and-red assassin sword-qi roared down from the upper atmosphere of Mount Sky-Hilt, tearing the clouds into burning ribbons and turning the noon sky as red as an open furnace.
Up in orbit, Regressor Clone Leader #101 and his one thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine identical brothers laughed maniacally. Meanwhile, they watched seventeen-year-old Ye Xiao sit down on a stone bench on the Grand Ancestral Platform and pull a heavy, silver-gray tin box from his canvas schoolbag.
“Look at the great Eldest Young Master of the Gu Family!” Clone Leader #101 howled into the sector-wide broadcast channel, his scarred face flushed with savage glee.
“Facing the combined strike of two thousand burned blood-suns, he knows his Half-Step Rank 9 cultivation can’t hold out for even half a breath! He’s given up defending himself! He wants to die with a full stomach like a condemned prisoner on the execution block!”
Down on the white-jade platform, Grandmaster Jian Wuchen—still shielding his sleeping granddaughter in his arms—shouted until his throat tore:
“Young Sovereign Ye! Put down the box and raise your sword! Even if my old bones turn to ash, this old man will help you block three hundred of those beams!”
