The Grand Southern Gate of the Outer Sect Citadel was a massive arch of polished white jade and dark star-iron, standing one hundred and twenty feet high where the mountain highway entered the central office basin.
Flanking the great portal were four ninety-foot watchtowers. Their crenellations lined with was heavy dragon-head giant crossbows and three hundred elite guards dressed in lacquered crimson plate armor. Above the gate hung the huge royal mirror of the Azure Cloud Sect. A thirty-foot disc of cast bronze that radiated a soft, unending beam of spiritual scrying light, scanning every entrant for hidden demonic artifacts or hostile qi signed names.
Today, the grand plaza before the Southern Gate was choked with more than ten thousand spectators.
Word of the captured Flying Crane vanguard had spread through the outer valley like wildfire. Apprentice herbalists, junior alchemists, outer court sword students, and dozens of fat, silk-clad supply deacons lined the marble terraces, craning their necks to witness the arrival of the convoy.
Standing at the center of the marble threshold, flanked by two rows of trial guards with crossed poleaxes, was Senior Inspector Han.
The “Iron Mirror” stood motionless, his severe, stone-carved face framed by the high black collar of his city court robes. His long, skeletal fingers rested lightly on the polished wooden frame of his iron counting frame, his dark eyes fixed on the approaching road.
