The shaking through the black glass shelf arrived four seconds before the sky patrol became visible.
It was a heavy, steady pace. Five sets of iron-shod shin guards treading on solidified cloud-paths. It shook at sixty beats per minute.
“Inbound,” Meng Shan grunted, his hand already clamped around the rim of his massive shield.
Lin Ke looked toward the eastern lip of the black glass raft.
Five figures were dropping from the shimmering haze beneath the Ascension Gateway.
They were clad in full suits of mirror-bronze plate armor, cloud-patterned sigils glowing along their pauldrons.
Each guard carried a heavy, single-edged pole-cleaver, their visors down, scanning the terrain with thin beams of amber-colored sense light.
Golden Core peak guards.
