Chapter 144

The capital of Dayan Kingdom, as the political, cultural, and economic center of the entire empire, shone like a brilliant pearl set upon its land.

The entire capital nestled against mountains and beside water, its northern border anchored by the majestic eight-hundred-li Canglan Mountain Range, its southern edge washed by the five-thousand-li surging River Yong.

Surrounding walls, a hundred meters high and built of blue stone, remained unyielding despite centuries of wind and rain; each dawn, as the first light broke, the city gates opened to welcome and send off merchants and envoys from all corners.

With the Grand National Competition drawing near, this place had grown even more prosperous.

As a grand event held once every decade, it offered a chance to witness the prodigies of all nations testing their mettle against one another, and warriors from every region brought their elders and children alike racing toward the capital.

With the surge in tourism during this period, the capital's economy boomed, its GDP showing clear growth.

Outside the city gates, countless people flowed in and out of the capital, and among the crowds stood over a hundred "luxury carriages."

These so-called luxury carriages were, of course, sedan chairs specially crafted by worshippers for the Divine One.

Now, as the top one thousand warriors from Dayan's Dragon Submersion List entered the capital, these massive, house-like sedan chairs were barred from entering, so they were lined up outside the gates, each guarded by its respective warrior.

Beyond these luxury carriages, several youths gathered, observing the passersby with scrutinizing eyes.

Since ancient times, scholars have no absolute first, but warriors have no second—cultivation exists solely for the exhilarating clash of battle.

Since we know all these warriors will come to the capital from every corner, why not just guard the gates and wait for them to arrive so we can challenge them?

At this moment, these Dragon Submersion List warriors clustered together, raising cups in toast under the service of devotees, chatting freely.

"Those dozen or so warriors have been waiting there for days—what are they waiting for?"

"I sent someone to ask. They say they're followers of Fang Can."

"The number one on the Ascending Dragon List, the one rumored to have defeated a First Transformation cultivator after only one month of cultivation—Fang Can."

"That's right. It's said Fang Can himself plans to enter the competition, so these devotees came ahead to buy property in the capital for him to reside in."

…

Several warriors exchanged remarks, critiquing the devotees standing by the river ahead.

In response, the devotees remained silent, standing as straight as pine trees, their resolute gazes fixed on the surface of the moat.

Before them stretched a tributary of the Yong River, hundreds of meters wide.

Across this stream stood a grand bridge, but due to the overwhelming crowd, countless pedestrians were jammed upon it, inching forward slowly.

For days, these warriors had stared silently at this tributary, leaving the surrounding onlookers puzzled.

Suddenly, the devotees stirred, their eyes locking onto the tributary before them.

In the distance, a dozen warriors strode forward, treading upon the waves.

Though the water churned violently, they moved as if walking on solid ground, dancing atop the crests, crossing the Yong River in mere breaths.

Seeing the goal they had waited for, the warriors all dropped to one knee: "Devotees humbly welcome Fang Tian Di to the capital of Dayan Kingdom!"

As these words rang out, countless pedestrians on the crowded bridge suddenly heard a stirring blast of suona horns behind them.

Turning, they saw a dozen warriors sprinting toward them, bearing aloft a colossal sedan chair spanning over two hundred square meters and standing five to six meters tall.

'What are these people trying to do? Are they going to crush us on the bridge?'

Panic surged among the bridge's crowd; instinctively, they tried to dodge—but the giant sedan did not head toward the bridge, but charged straight toward the water.

Could these people really carry something weighing hundreds of tons and walk across the river?

At this speculation, even the warriors gathered at a distance rose to their feet, eager to see what would happen.

If it were a single person crossing the river, any one of them could easily sprint across the water's surface.

But for a dozen men to coordinate perfectly while carrying a sedan weighing hundreds of tons? They'd collapse into the river after barely fifty meters—this tributary was at least three hundred meters wide.

As the pedestrians expected, the warriors bearing the sedan charged straight toward the river's surface.

Yet before they reached the water, a dozen other warriors had already leapt ahead, arriving first to tread upon the waves.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A ripple exploded across the river's surface as the dozen warriors bearing the sedan charged forward like dragons crossing the stream.

Amidst the wild spray of water, propelled by sheer momentum, they truly carried the hundreds-of-tons sedan across more than a hundred meters of water as if walking on solid ground.

But their momentum could not last forever; under the pressure of hundreds of tons above, the formation began to destabilize, and some warriors' feet were slowly sinking into the water.

Just as it seemed the warriors and sedan would plunge into the river, the men supporting the sedan's right side lightly swept their arms outward.

In the next instant, the sedan detached from their arms and glided smoothly forward, caught by the warriors ahead, who took up the burden and continued sprinting toward the opposite shore.

Freed from the sedan's weight, their bodies, which should have plunged into the water, stabilized instantly and surged forward again.

Thus, through continuous rotation between the two teams, the hundreds-of-tons sedan, inlaid with gold and silver, was steadily delivered to the far bank.

Amidst a shower of petals and the blare of musical instruments, the sedan landed with a thud upon solid ground, and the warriors knelt together to respectfully welcome the figure within: "Your Divine Majesty, we have arrived at the capital."

As these words were spoken, the sedan's door slowly opened.

Before the watching crowd, a youth stepped forth—dressed in a white martial robe, with white hair and crimson eyes, his face exquisitely beautiful, his eyebrows sharp as swords, his gaze bright as stars.

At his appearance, the world around seemed to darken for an instant, replaced by the brilliance of his figure, as if celestial light had pierced through clouds.

As the youth emerged, a red carpet had already been laid by the surrounding warriors, ensuring his feet would not be soiled by the mud along the riverbank.

'This is Fang Can…'

The warriors nearby, who had come to provoke, felt a pang of envy—how had they never thought of such a showy entrance?

'Come on, let's go meet him.' One warrior hefted his great blade and strode toward Fang Can.

As he moved, the other Dragon Submersion List warriors rose as well, preparing to test Fang Can's strength.

But before they could draw near, Fang Can glanced at them.

Seeing their posture, he knew they had come to cause trouble—and for such people, Fang Can had already endured enough these past days.

Too lazy to speak, the warriors felt Fang Can's mental force surge toward them, filling them with dread.

It was a mental force like a natural disaster; in sheer magnitude, it dwarfed theirs by dozens of times.

That mental force, formed into a blade in midair, pierced directly into the foreheads of the Dragon Submersion List warriors.

The mental shielding techniques they had learned could not withstand the blade, nearly solidified with intent.

With a few thuds, several martial artists dropped to their knees in unison, unable to recover their breath for quite a while.

His gaze swept over them as if they were a few small fry, and Fang Can said lightly, "Don't bother with them. Let's head for the capital."

(End of chapter)