The twelve executioners fanned out across the dark rock dais with the silent, terrifying smooth speed of seasoned slaughterhouse workers.
Their crescent-headed poleaxes hummed with an ugly, dull brown spatial shaking. An array configuration designed to cleave through non-Euclidean folds and pin mortal flesh to the three-space-folding floor.
Envoy Yan strode forward, his golden eyes burning with pure, pure venom.
“Rats in a drainage ditch,” Yan whispered. His voice thin and was sharp as a bone needle. “You thought a decoy would fool the Judge? You thought cutting off the leylines would hide your stench? Warden Chi, take their limbs. Leave the scribe and the technician alive. Their souls will be unstitched for careful check.”
“Understood,” Warden Chi rumbled.
The huge bronze-armored general stepped forward, his boots crunching through the shattered stone.
His eight-thousand-jin void hammer lifted with easy, terrifying driving force, its crushing runes flaring into a dark crimson glow.
Lin Ke didn’t move.
