By the time Lin Tao reached the base of Boundary Pylon Three, the freezing alpine fog had begun to scatter under the rising mountain wind.
The tiered arena was fully silent except for the groans of the forty numbed shock-troopers and the soft crackle of cooling glass-fused melted rock waste.
Tie Shan had already moved through the battlefield with systematic, ruthless smooth speed. Using lengths of braided hemp rope retrieved from his wicker pack, the giant had bound the forty unconscious raiders in five-man files, stripping them of their hidden daggers, their magic charm pouches, and their spatial rings. In the center of the clearing, Vanguard Commander Yue remained on his knees. His hands securely was bound behind his back with high-pulling spider-silk cord, his head bowed in total defeat.
Lin Tao walked across the smoking shale, his dark charcoal linen tunic rustling in the breeze.
He stopped before Commander Yue, his left eye scanning the broken martial master:
Lin Tao crouched down until his eyes were level with the captured commander.
“Commander Yue,” Lin Tao said, his voice calm, polite, and terrifyingly cold. “Your sixty men are alive. Their spirit veins are stunned by high-voltage capacitive discharge, but with three days of rest and basic healing tea, their spiritual flow will recover fully.”
