The next day, Hestia joined the crowd of tourists gathered at the observation platform in front of the Red Pavilion. Feng Jianxue stood nearby, keeping a watchful distance.
Rather than a true observation platform, the site was essentially a flattened high ground, created by demolishing old, abandoned buildings.
Under the gaze of tens of thousands, the Divine Generals procession made its way slowly toward the high platform. The massive, sedan-like carriage they carried was lowered with great care.
Unlike two decades ago, the carriage was empty. Perhaps there was no longer a suitable candidate to sit inside, or the standards for such a role had fallen so much that it was better to leave it vacant. Instead, a veiled statue of a divine maiden had been placed within.
As the crowd observed, red-robed women ascended the platform from all four directions. Each was veiled, carrying ancient swords, their movements elegant and ethereal.
While the scene was visually striking, the uniformity of the group diluted its original mystical and sacred aura. To the discerning eye, it resembled a choreographed performance of dancers more than a display of transcendent swordsmanship.
Nevertheless, most spectators, unfamiliar with the original rituals, found the ceremony novel and entertaining.
As the orchestra in the Red Pavilion began playing, the music rose in layers, its melody transcendent and evocative of a bygone era.
In this aspect, the Red Pavilion had preserved much of its tradition. The captivating music masked the shortcomings of the sword dance, creating a performance that was overall acceptable.
The crowd gradually immersed itself in the ancient, majestic ceremony. Among them, Hestia held her giant spider companion, her gaze occasionally shifting to the red-robed women wielding swords.
Their techniques bore similarities to her mother’s, though they lacked any additional essence of inheritance. The moves, devoid of innovation, were purely mechanical and synchronized, diminishing the original spontaneity and spirit of the form.
Just as Hestia believed the ceremony would conclude uneventfully, an urgent alarm suddenly resounded throughout Thousand Towers City. Moments later, gunfire and explosions could be heard in the distance.
“What is this?” Hestia turned her head in surprise, spotting plumes of smoke rising from a corner of the city. Autonomous units were swiftly mobilizing along the streets and walls, firing at fleeing figures.
Though outdated in design, these units served as the city’s primary defense and law enforcement, managed by its administration.
The disturbance unsettled the vast crowd. Worry, curiosity, and the urge to leave rippled through the spectators, creating a growing wave of chaos.
As the situation threatened to escalate into a stampede, the music from the Red Pavilion abruptly ceased, replaced by the tolling of a solemn bell.
Dong—Dong—Dong—
The deep, resonant sound refocused the crowd’s attention. Small, lantern-like autonomous drones ascended from the Red Pavilion, spreading out to hover over the assembly.
Each drone displayed a unique number on its screens while projecting red laser guides to organize and direct the crowd.
“Please follow your designated sections to exit the venue in an orderly manner. For everyone’s safety, today’s Flowing Fire Festival celebrations will be paused for half a day and resume tomorrow. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. As compensation, every guest will receive a small gift from Thousand Towers City.”
The official announcement swiftly calmed the crowd, with most attendees following instructions to exit.
Hestia, holding her restless spider, joined the dispersing throng. Beside her, Feng Jianxue had mysteriously disappeared.
…
Meanwhile, in the city’s underground fifth level.
Bronze-colored, unicycle robots zipped through the underground passages. These units, part of Thousand Towers City’s automated law enforcement, had been dormant due to budget constraints, only mobilized during emergencies.
“They’re quick to respond,” muttered a black-clad priest, leaning against a corner with a submachine gun in hand. He fired at the advancing units.
Rat-tat-tat—
Bullets sprayed out, creating sparks and clanging against the robots’ metallic exteriors. While most shots were ineffective, a few struck vulnerable joints, causing sparks to fly and some units to malfunction.
In retaliation, the robots raised their dual-mounted gun arms, returning fire at the black-clad intruders. Red laser sights swept the narrow streets, marking their targets before unleashing a barrage of suppression fire.
“Try this on for size!” A wiry figure among the black-clad group lobbed a grenade.
The grenade exploded midair, releasing a mesh of metal wires that entangled the advancing robots. Sparks and arcs of electricity crackled across the mesh, short-circuiting the machines. Their unbalanced wheels caused them to crash into trash bins and nearby debris.
“Alright, done.”
“After all, these are just outdated machines. Let’s go. I wonder if Blanc and the others have managed to break through.”
With that, the two black-clad priests slung their weapons over their shoulders, mounted hovering motorcycles nearby, and sped off toward the site of the recent explosion in Thousand Towers City.
After their departure, the fallen autonomous robots continued to struggle weakly, their front screens still displaying some text-like symbols.
…
Following the explosions and gunfire, Thousand Towers City’s defenses had been fully roused. While most of the forces were tied up at the surface due to the festival celebrations, the deeper underground core still retained significant defenses.
Boom!
A deafening blast echoed as the massive vermillion steel gate ahead was blown open, leaving a gaping hole. Through it, a dozen figures in black priest robes, armed with various weapons, swiftly entered.
“Who goes there!?”
Behind the gate, about ten Divine Generals abruptly stood up. Their faces were painted in vivid hues of green and red, and they wore ornate armor and cloud-soled boots.
These Divine Generals had been rotating shifts during the festivities, their stamina heavily taxed by the parade rounds over the past few days. They were stationed here to rest and guard the area.
“Tch, we’ve run into them,” muttered the tall, thin priest leading the group, wearing sunglasses. Annoyed, he raised a heavy machine gun and began firing indiscriminately. Blue muzzle flashes flared as bullets rained down like a storm.
Several Divine Generals in the front were instantly riddled with bullets, blood spraying everywhere. The remaining ones quickly regained their composure.
“Form up!”
“Hah!”
In groups of three or four, they moved in coordinated, almost ritualistic steps, linking their auras together. The pigments and tattoos on their bodies began to glow as if coming to life.
“The Exalted One punishes evil, calamities shall persist no more!”
Brandishing long sabers and halberds, the Divine Generals charged at the intruders. Their vividly painted demon-like faces seemed to leap toward their enemies, the colors seeping into the black-clad priests’ vision. This momentary illusion caused several of them to freeze, their movements halted for a brief 1-2 seconds.
But even a short delay was enough for the cold steel weapons to strike.
Blades gleamed mercilessly, and blood spurted in arcs. Two priests were decapitated and dismembered, while another was cleaved diagonally into two.
“Tch!” The leader narrowly dodged a spear thrust aimed at him, his brows furrowing deeply. He quickly signaled to the others behind him.
Another barrage of machine gun fire erupted, this time with no regard for possibly hitting their fallen comrades ahead.
Though the firepower was immense, it no longer had the overwhelming advantage it initially did. The vibrant armor of the Divine Generals, enhanced through transcendent techniques, now acted as if forged from solid iron, deflecting bullets with loud metallic clangs.
It took dozens of rounds to wear down and pierce the magical protection, sending spurts of blood flying.
The battle raged in the narrow corridor for several minutes. Finally, the last Divine General, riddled with bullet holes, collapsed slowly to his knees, his long halberd supporting him as blood pooled beneath him.
Stepping over the fallen warriors, the remaining black-clad priests pressed onward. Their movements were precise, as though they had memorized every twist and turn of the path ahead.
Beyond this obstacle lay a vertical elevator that descended to the core zone.
However, instead of using the elevator, they rigged it with explosives, severing the cable and sending the elevator car crashing downward. The group then descended via ropes, sliding skillfully into the depths.
On the way down, they encountered more resistance from autonomous robots stationed on different levels. Amid relentless gunfire and skirmishes, they sustained some casualties but finally reached the ground floor.
Before them now stood an enormous, tightly sealed pair of doors. The gate towered ten meters high, seemingly built for giants or mythical beasts.
Two massive depictions of Divine Generals were carved onto the doors, exuding an aura of ferocity. One, with a black-and-red face, wielded a long saber; the other, with a green-and-white face, held dual maces.
Their expressions were fierce and menacing, their gold-bronze eyes gleaming as they scanned the area with beams of light, as though ready to spring to life at any moment.
“We’re finally here. So, this is the legendary Thousand Towers’ Forbidden City, said to guard the Divine Sword,” remarked the lead priest, whistling as he surveyed the imposing structure.
“They say there’s only one main street in the Forbidden City. Cross through Agarwood Street, and you’ll reach the ancestral shrine where the Divine Sword is enshrined. But… that’s not our goal today.”
He pulled a pitch-black sword hilt from his cloak, a sly grin on his face. Behind him, the other nine priests did the same.
Ten blazing black swords rose into the air, their flames sizzling and scorching the atmosphere. Forming a circle, they resembled a burning black sun.