The amber dome didn’t shatter when the four suns struck.
It sagged.
The top of the protective barrier—anchored forty paces above the central keep—bent downward under the staggering weight of nonstop sun-hot bombardment. That turned from pale gold to blazing bright, blinding white.
The air inside the pass grew so hot that wool tunics began to scorch against defenders’ chests. The lead balance weights on the siege cranes melted, dripping down the stonework like silver candle wax.
If the heat dwelled on the barrier for three more seconds, the shield would turn to steam. Every living organism behind the walls would be flash-broiled into carbon flakes.
*
“Meng Shan!” Lin Ke’s voice rang across the four concurrent threads of his newly minted Mid Nascent Soul. He carried the sharp clarity of an iron bell. “Drop the anchor!”
Fifty feet below ground, in the deepest underground grounding vault, Meng Shan stood before the Master Grounding Altar. A massive block of solid star-fallen iron bolted directly into the granite roots of the mountain.
