The heavens maintain order through divine law, enforced by immortal observers who watch from above. When those on the path to immortality violate these sacred boundaries, retribution comes swift and merciless. The tribulation serves as both warning and punishment—a reminder that even the mightiest must bow before heaven’s mandate.
—Sage Master Wei Huang, Keeper of the First Flame
Flaming stones slammed against the talisman array protecting Blackmere’s western wall. White nets of energy rippled across the defensive barrier. A dozen stones bounced away harmlessly, but another six punched through the weakened ward and plummeted into the city below.
Xiulan clenched her teeth. The bastards aimed for the buildings inside rather than the walls themselves—a deliberate tactic to spread panic among the citizens. Smoke already billowed up through the city, visible against the pale glow of the defensive array.
She sprinted through the streets with Mei Chen close behind. A non-burning projectile crashed through a nearby building wall, sending debris scattering across their path. Up ahead, a fire-fighting wagon’s crew worked frantically to extinguish a small blaze, their silhouettes dancing in the firelight.
They rounded a corner onto the main avenue leading to the western gate. A cluster of civilians fled eastward—parents clutching children’s hands, elderly supported by younger relatives. A massive burning rock plummeted directly toward the fleeing family.
"Mei Chen!" Xiulan leapt upward, channeling qi through her meridians. She gathered yin energy in her left palm and yang in her right, sliding iron darts into each hand. With a practiced precision, she launched both projectiles.
Lightning crackled through the falling rock, shattering it into hundreds of smaller fragments. Mei Chen pressed her palms together and exhaled a long breath. A swirling vortex of icy wind materialized above the crowd, catching the burning pieces. The supernatural gust smothered their flames and guided them safely to the ground. "It’s done, miss!"
Xiulan landed in a crouch on the cobblestones. "Everyone to the shelters! Move east, away from the gates!"
The gathered civilians snapped out of their stunned silence and rushed eastward. A squad of soldiers hustled past carrying clay water pots, their boots pounding against the stone street.
"This way." Xiulan sprinted toward the western gate with Mei Chen matching her pace. They scaled the wall in three quick bounds, landing atop the battlements.
Two massive spiritual torches cast an eerie blue glow across the battlefield, illuminating the advancing Chao army. The enemy’s formations stretched into the darkness beyond the torchlight’s reach.
The siege engines creaked and groaned. Another volley of burning stones launched skyward, trailing smoke and flames as they arced toward the city.
Behind her, the defensive mangonels’ torsion mechanisms tightened and snapped forward. The throwing arms swung with explosive force, hurling their own barrage of stones. The two volleys passed each other mid-flight—a deadly dance of fire and stone.
The enemy projectiles slammed into Blackmere’s array wards while their own stones crashed through the Chao army’s spiritual barriers. Purple and gold spiritual energy exploded across the night sky, casting wild shadows across the battlefield.
More burning stones punched through the city’s weakened barrier above, their flames casting wild shadows across the battlements. Xiulan shifted her stance and gathered qi into her arms, preparing to deflect the deadly projectiles from the soldiers around her.
A golden light erupted in front of them first. The massive ethereal form of a mountain materialized, its translucent surface rippling with earth-element qi. The flaming rocks bounced off the spiritual construct, tumbling harmlessly into the darkness beyond the wall.
"This is the mountain!" Wei Kang planted his feet wide on the stone battlements. Golden light pulsed through the ritual scars on his outstretched arms as he maintained the defensive technique.
Behind Xiulan, crossbowmen lined up along the wall. Their weapons clicked as bolts slid into place. Zhang Huo strode behind their ranks with raised fist. Fire qi streamed from his palm, igniting each crossbow bolt until the entire line bristled with burning projectiles.
Through gaps in Wei Kang’s mountain barrier, Xiulan studied the enemy forces below. The Chao army spread out in practiced formations. Soldiers advanced under the cover of wooden screens, the barriers gleaming with protective talismans.
"Fire!" Zhang Huo’s command rang across the battlements.
A blinding flash erupted from the pagoda’s peak. Lightning—pure white and crackling with raw power—exploded outward in a vast web. The electrical net engulfed every falling orb simultaneously. Golden spheres shattered like glass, their fragments dissolving into sparkles that rained harmlessly downward.
Xiulan squinted through the afterimage burned into her vision. A lone figure stood atop the pagoda tower. The man’s robes whipped in the spiritual backlash.
"Master Qingfeng?" she whispered.
The night fell silent. No siege engines creaked. No soldiers shouted. Even the flames seemed to quiet their crackling.
Then lightning erupted from the pagoda’s peak again—a single golden bolt that streaked across the battlefield. It struck the enemy cultivator who had launched the golden orb attack. The man’s barrier shattered in a shower of spiritual sparks as he was immolated instantly.
In a resounding response, thunder boomed overhead.
Dark clouds materialized from nowhere, writhing with blue energy. A massive bolt of tribulation lightning plummeted from the storm, smashing against a golden barrier that formed around the pagoda’s peak.
More strikes followed, relentless and devastating. Each impact sprayed sheets of golden sparks across the night sky. The magical display cast wild shadows across the battlefield below.
Shouts erupted along the wall. Dozens of soldiers pointed toward the enemy lines with urgent cries.
Xiulan snapped her attention to the battlefield below. Through the raging fires that consumed the enemy’s wooden screens, twelve dark figures emerged. Their outlines twisted and blurred as they sprinted forward with inhuman speed. The spiritual pressure radiating from them confirmed her worst fear—enemy cultivators launching a direct assault.
Xiulan gripped Severing Light tightly and raised it overhead. "Defend the walls! All positions!" Her command carried across the battlements, echoing through the smoke-filled air.
"Crossbows!" Zhang Huo’s gruff voice boomed. "Staggered volleys!"
Lines of burning bolts streaked through the night in coordinated waves. Golden explosions lit up the ground around the charging cultivators. The attackers twisted and spun between the blasts, their movements fluid and precise as they closed the distance. Not a single bolt found its mark despite the disciplined barrage.
Xiulan sprang onto the battlement’s edge, drawing her iron darts. Yin and yang qi flowed through her meridians and into the metal. She launched them in a practiced arc toward the advancing cultivators. Lightning crackled between the darts as they slid through the air, adding brilliant white flashes to the golden fire swirls from Zhang Huo’s arrows.
The display seemed almost insignificant beneath the massive tribulation storm above. More blue-white lightning hammered against the master’s barrier atop the pagoda with deafening force. The endless shriiing of lightning strikes mixed with thunderous booms until the very air vibrated. The dissonance pressed against Xiulan’s ears as she readied another set of darts.
Sun Gai’s defensive branches erupted outward. The wooden spines and spikes detached in an explosive burst. The wooden shrapnel filled the air like the blast from a hundred massive claymore mines.
The enemy cultivators spun and twisted through the barrage with supernatural grace. Their weapons flashed—sword, staff, and spear deflecting the wooden shards while protective qi fields shimmered around them. One cultivator failed to dodge completely. A wooden spike buried deep into his shoulder, but he yanked it free without breaking stride.
Xiulan glanced at Mei Chen. Frost gathered around her ghostly claws as she crouched ready to spring, supernatural cold radiating from her altered form. A predatory focus burned in her glowing slate-blue eyes.
Ming Lihua appeared on the gate’s roof just above Xiulan’s head, her purple robes whipping in the spiritual backlash from the ongoing lightning storm. "Time to fight."
Xiulan scoffed. "Well, no shit."
At least she didn’t need to worry about a lengthy siege anymore. The enemy seemed determined to end this quickly.