The fight had ended, and the cavern was quiet again.The giant bronze platform of the Sovereign Gate was covered in the ruins of the battle. Smashed metal spiders lay everywhere. Their long, thin silver legs—each one with three sharp joints—were bent and broken, sticking out of the white marble dust like discarded needles. Their round, blue-glowing eye-globes were dark now, some of them cracked and leaking a cold, blue alchemical fluid.The fluid had a sweet, hot smell, like burnt sugar mixed with old copper. It ran across the bronze floor in small, glowing lines before turning into a dry, blue dust.Han Feng stood in the center of the platform.His silver-black hands were covered in the blue fluid of the spiders. He did not wipe it off. His right shoulder, which had been burned by the Exordium ship’s alchemical fire, was completely quiet. The silver and the obsidian had cooled into a rough, beautiful pattern of solid grey metal and black glass. He felt no pain. His body felt heavy, d

The sky was no longer grey. It was a deep, burning purple. It was the color of a bruised plum, the color of a cold, alchemical poison.High above the ruined peaks of the Azure Cloud Sect, the Exordium fleet did not move. The twenty giant silver ships hung in the purple air like silent, metallic monsters. They did not fire their alchemical cannons. They did not drop their black fire.Instead, they had cast a giant dome of purple light over the entire mountain.It was the Purge Field.The purple light of the dome touched the ancient pine trees on the outer cliffs. The moment the light touched the needles, the wood did not burn. It did not catch fire. It simply turned a dry, dead black, the leaves curling and falling into the wind like burnt paper. The dome was closing slowly, sealing the mountain inside a cage of cold, purple light. There was no way out.Below the dome, the mountain was silent.In the center of the Inner Sect, the Culling Arena stood open to the sky.The arena was a gia

The purple spotlight from the Exordium ship was very cold. It sat on the center of the Culling Arena like a giant, glowing plate of purple glass.Inside the light, the Great Sect Leader paced.He did not look like the perfect, clean master who had sat on the throne of shadow and steel. His black robes were torn, showing his pale chest and his cracked, white ribs. His right arm was still a dead, black branch of bone. But when he walked, he held his head high. He held the massive, five-foot alchemical axe in his left hand, the green alchemical flame on the blade hissing and spitting in the cold air.He looked at the hundreds of disciples sitting in the high stone seats. He looked at the servants in their dirty grey robes. He looked at the inner disciples who were shivering in the purple light.Then, he began to speak."Look at this sky!" the Sect Leader shrieked, his voice carrying through the mountain’s copper horns to every corner of the peak. "Look at the silver ships! You are afraid

The white alchemical fire was very close now. It came from the edges of the Grand Plaza, moving inward like a shrinking circle of solid light. The high stone seats of the Culling Arena were gone, turned into a hot, grey gas that rose into the purple sky. The outer ring of the sandy floor was starting to melt, the sand turning into a bubbling, black glass.More than three hundred people were crowded into the center of the arena.There were outer disciples in their grey rags. There were inner disciples in their torn blue robes. There were coal-servants, cooks, and even some lesser elders who had survived the night. They were all huddled together near the iron cage, their bodies shivering. They did not look at the sky, and they did not look at the fire. They looked only at the center of the sand, where the final standoff was taking place.The air was so hot it felt like breathing steam. It had a sharp, metallic smell, like a melting forge.The Great Sect Leader stood in the purple spotli

High above, the giant silver ships of the Exordium hung in the dark purple sky like silent, waiting gods.The purple dome of the Purge Field was still closing. Its edge of white alchemical fire was slowly melting the high stone seats of the arena, turning the ancient granite into a hot, grey gas that rose into the air.In the center of the arena, the Great Sect Leader stood. He held the massive alchemical axe in his left hand.The green flame on the blade was hissing, throwing small, angry sparks into the white sand. He looked at Han Feng, who was standing thirty feet away. He had just finished his long, arrogant speech about his divine right to rule.He had expected the disciples to cheer. He had expected Han Feng to fall to his knees and beg for his life.He paced the sand, a wild, proud smile on his pale face. He was the Sovereign of the Azure Cloud Sect. He had ruled this mountain for five hundred years. He would not be beaten by a boy from the pit.But then, the Sect Leader stopp