A heavy, iron-shod boot struck the stone with the bone-shaking power of a mountain falling from the sky.
THUD.
The granite ridge shook beneath the impact.
Standing over the kneeling, frantic sword prodigy was Tie Shan.
The giant had stepped across the threshold gate the moment the Chief Judge’s holding dome began to flicker. In his massive, calloused right hand, he carried his twelve-pound cold-drawn iron pry-bar, dressed in midnight-blue whale oil and balanced with clean, steady care.
Jian Chen looked up through matted, blood-soaked bangs, his pupils tightened into wild, rabid pinpricks as he reached for his old family sword.
Tie Shan didn’t shout. He didn’t draw back his fist or roar like the thunder beast.
He simply slid the narrowed, diamond-ground chisel tip of his twelve-pound iron pry-bar beneath the crossguard of the Star-Shattering Sword.
