The sulfur smoke in the underground gallery was thick enough to make a man cough up grease.
Forty coal torches, mounted on iron tripods around the black stone threshold, sputtered wildly as falling flakes of crushed ceiling shale rained down into the flames. Every three breaths, the cave shuddered with a deep, bone-shaking CRACK that rattled the marrow in Lin Ke’s shins and sent cracks racing across the ancient vaulted ceiling.
Standing thirty paces in front of the huge sealed portal was Master Yan.
The Grand Fortune Guild’s chief formation master was a man of sixty with a high, sloping forehead and a sparse goatee dyed royal purple. His silk robes, heavily stitched with golden hexagrams, were spattered with soot. In his hands, he held a wooden tray bearing three foot-long scrolls of crimson thunder paper, each streaming the choking, ozone-heavy spiritual pressure of a Mid Golden Core explosive array.
“Stand clear, you dogs!” Master Yan bellowed at the guild guards. “The ancient locks are yielding! Three more Heaven-Sundering Thunder Magic charms. This immortal tomb will open its treasures to the Young Master! Prepare the iron chests to receive the immortal jade!”
“Stop striking the top door beam!” Lin Ke shouted across the gallery, his voice flat, dry, and cutting through the cave rumble like an iron saw.
