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Boom!
Sleeves rolled up, Ling Daoyan steered an enormous siege crossbow with both hands. A massive golden bolt, fifteen zhang long, rested in place, mysterious patterns etched across its surface.
A dull, heavy sound echoed from one of the peaks of the Daxia Sword Sect’s Three Thousand Strange Peaks.
The bowstring snapped. The bolt shot out. Space caved in along its path, and the mountain behind it crumbled to rubble. For a full thousand zhang along its path, space itself had been ripped open and left in ruins.
Lu Tao’s heart lurched, his eyes widening. From that bolt, he sensed a genuine threat to his life.
An azure sword materialized in his palm,...
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