The wind howled through the Shattered Jaw Canyon, masking the sound of a thousand boots crunching on the frozen earth.
It was midnight. The combined forces of Beiluo City and the White Cloud Sect had arrived.
At the front, City Lord Fatong rode a warhorse wrapped in heavy furs. He looked nervous, his eyes darting to the towering cliff walls that vanished into the dark. Behind him marched the City Guard—rows of shivering men with spears and rusty swords.
Floating above them, standing on a massive, glowing flying sword, was Elder Mo.
He was an old man with a long white beard, radiating a pressure that made the snow around him melt before it touched his robes. This was the power of the Golden Core Realm. To him, mortals were ants. He wasn't here for the battle; he was here to collect the "Pre-Dynasty Ruin."
"My Lord," Fatong shouted up, his voice trembling. "The scouts say the entrance is blocked by... strange metal walls. And there are metal beasts guarding it."
Elder Mo sneered, stroking his beard. "Tricks of a loose cultivator. They found a legacy and think a few walls can stop the White Cloud Sect? Order the attack. Use the mortals as fodder to trigger any traps."
Fatong swallowed hard. He turned to his Captain. "You heard the Immortal! First Battalion! Charge! Break down the gate!"
The Captain of the Guard didn't move.
The soldiers didn't move.
The canyon was eerily silent, save for the wind.
"Are you deaf?!" Fatong shrieked. "I said CHARGE! Or I will have your heads!"
CLICK.
A sound echoed from the cliffside. High above, four massive floodlights slammed on simultaneously.
[LIGHTING SYSTEM: 100% OUTPUT]
Beams of blinding white light cut through the darkness, illuminating the army like actors on a stage. The soldiers flinched, shielding their eyes.
Then, a voice boomed from the walls—not a shout, but a recorded, calm broadcast.
"The contract is open. Payment is upon delivery."
The Captain of the Guard looked up at the floodlights, then down at the leaflet he had hidden in his breastplate. He looked at City Lord Fatong, whose face was purple with rage.
"Traitors!" Fatong realized, drawing his jeweled sword. "You dare—"
The Captain didn't hesitate. He thrust his spear.
SHLICK.
The spear tip punched through Fatong's heavy furs and pierced his heart.
The City Lord gasped, blood bubbling from his mouth. He stared at his loyal captain in disbelief.
"My wife..." the Captain whispered, twisting the spear. "She needs the heating."
Fatong slumped off his horse, dead.
That was the spark.
"FOR THE INDUSTRIES!" a soldier screamed.
"KILL THE OFFICERS!"
Chaos erupted. The 1,000-strong army turned on itself. Soldiers tackled their commanders. Spears clashed. Men dragged the loyalist officers off their horses to claim the 100-silver bounties. The canyon floor became a mosh pit of desperate violence.
High above, Elder Mo watched the scene with cold indifference. He didn't look angry. He looked bored.
"Mortals," Mo sighed. "Unreliable filth."
He flicked his sleeve. A wave of blue energy—Gang Qi—rippled out.
BOOM.
The shockwave hit the ground below him. Fifty struggling soldiers—rebels and loyalists alike—were crushed instantly, flattened into the mud like insects. The mutiny stopped. The survivors looked up in terror.
"You think killing your fat lord changes anything?" Elder Mo's voice was soft, yet it hammered against their eardrums. "I am the sky. You are the dirt."
He raised his hand. The twenty Qi Condensation Disciples behind him drew their swords.
"Kill them all," Mo commanded. "The rebels. The Prince. Everyone in this valley. Leave no witnesses."
The Disciples dove, their flying swords screaming through the air toward the terrified guards.
Inside the command bunker, Jiang Chen watched the monitor. The mutiny had worked, but the power gap was real. The Elder had just squashed a platoon with a wave of his hand.
"System," Jiang Chen said, his voice tight. "Target Lock: The Disciples. Engage Point Defense."
[Targeting Solution: Acquired.][Weapon: Quad-Linked M2 Browning Turrets (.50 BMG).][Ammo Type: Armor-Piercing Incendiary (API).]
On the blast doors, four heavy turrets spun to life.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
The heavy machine guns opened up.
The sound was a deep, rhythmic bass that shook the chest. Tracers lit up the night like laser beams.
The Disciples, confident in their protective barriers, didn't dodge. They flew straight at the walls.
"Foolish!" a Disciple laughed. "Mortal weapons cannot penetrate my—"
SPLAT.
The .50 caliber round, traveling at 2,900 feet per second, hit his barrier. The barrier flickered and shattered. The bullet continued, taking his head off.
The other Disciples panicked. "What is this?!"
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
It was a massacre. The M2 Brownings tore through them. Barriers popped like soap bubbles. Limbs were severed. Bodies dropped from the sky, trailing smoke and blood. Within ten seconds, fifteen disciples were dead.
But Elder Mo did not move.
The bullets approached him. Hundreds of them. A wall of lead.
Elder Mo simply clasped his hands behind his back. A sphere of golden light materialized around him—the Aura of the Golden Core.
PING. PING. PING. PING.
The .50 caliber rounds hit the golden sphere and... flattened. They sparked and fell harmlessly to the ground. They didn't even scratch it.
"System!" Jiang Chen barked. "Analysis!"
[Target: Elder Mo.][Shield Density: EXTREME.][Kinetic Energy Required for Penetration: Exceeds current ballistic output.][Warning: Hostile Energy Signature Rising.]
Elder Mo looked at the turrets. He looked at the pile of dead disciples. His expression shifted from boredom to genuine irritation.
"Noisy toys," Mo muttered.
He raised a single finger.
The atmospheric pressure in the canyon dropped. The wind stopped. A massive, spectral blue sword, fifty meters long, began to manifest in the sky above him. It was made of pure condensed Qi.
[WARNING. HIGH-ENERGY EVENT DETECTED.][ESTIMATED IMPACT YIELD: TACTICAL NUKE EQUIVALENT.]
"Prince Jiang Chen," Elder Mo's voice echoed, magnified by magic. "You have some interesting tricks. But you have forgotten the First Law of Cultivation."
The giant sword tipped downward, aiming directly at the blast doors.
"Quantity," Mo said, "does not equal Quality."
Jiang Chen slammed his hand on the console. "Deploy the Trophy System! Divert all power to Shields! Get the civilians to the lower levels!"
"It won't be enough!" Old Wu screamed, watching the screen. "That sword will crack the mountain!"
Jiang Chen gritted his teeth. The pacing had slowed, alright. He had hit a wall. A Golden Wall.
"System," Jiang Chen whispered. "Is the Prototype ready?"
[Charge Level: 82%. Warning: Unstable.]
Jiang Chen looked at the giant sword descending.
"Fire it."