The iron war bell on the high peak ceased its tolling, leaving a suffocating, heavy silence hanging over the grand terrace of Sovereign Hall.
Four thousand forcibly converted disciples and captive clan elders stood crammed shoulder to shoulder across the wide white marble square, their heads bowed, their eyes fixed on the blood-etched flagstones beneath their boots.
Encircling the perimeter were three hundred mutated cultist executioners clad in black iron plate armor, their serrated halberds and barbed spears angled inward toward the crowd, while dark crimson banners bearing the weeping crescent moon hung from the five-story marble pillars.
On the elevated marble dais at the threshold of Sovereign Hall, Sect Master Zhao Tianxiao stepped to the carved dragon podium.
He wore flowing cer
