Chapter 316: Matriarchal World

For a moment, the scene fell silent again, everyone staring at the boy with shock in their eyes.

‘Where did this unknown master suddenly come from?’

‘Not even twenty years old, yet he’s reached First Transformation, his heart-image solidified into substance, sword qi extending a foot beyond his body.’

‘Such power, such appearance—and yet no legend of him exists in the martial world.’

…

Gazing at the cold-faced boy, everyone in the scene was struck with dread.

Fang Can’s gaze swept across the crowd, taking in the cultivation levels of every person present.

Xuanguan Fifth Layer, Xuanguan Seventh Layer, Xuanguan Seventh Layer…

Due to the Sixth Transformation heart-image being hostile to higher realms, power after ascending the Path to Heaven is suppressed by tens to hundreds of thousands of times.

But these low-level martial artists retained nearly all their strength, suppressed at most one or two times over.

Thus, these hundred people, stripped of heart-image bonuses, relied solely on physical power—and could not achieve overwhelming dominance.

In the brief lull, the one-eyed female bandit leader’s eyes blazed with renewed excitement:

‘Hahaha, sisters! This little brat is alone, his heart-image limited.’

‘He can break through at most twenty armors in one breath—don’t let him recover or escape. Seize him while he’s vulnerable, and it’s a great deed!’

‘Once we defeat him, we’ll all get to experience what a Path-to-Heaven young master feels like!’

‘Oooohhhhh!’

At the one-eyed bandit’s roar, the atmosphere ignited once more.

All the female bandits charged toward Fang Can with wild, fearless cries.

‘Do these women all have mental illnesses?’

Fang Can’s eyes flashed with cold light; his left knee slammed down, and the earth beneath his feet shattered with a roar.

‘Boom!!’

As a massive depression formed beneath his foot, everyone felt visible tremors beneath them.

Spiderweb cracks spread ten zhang in an instant; shards of rock, laced with heart-image Gangqi , shot out and pierced the skulls of three cultists.

Amidst the flying dirt, shattered stone, and dust, Fang Can’s figure surged into the crowd like a tyrannosaur.

In that instant, propelled by his heart-image condensed into a force field, Fang Can’s right palm struck outward toward the hundred before him.

‘Crack! Crack! Crack!’

The normally soft air, in the boy’s hand, shattered like tempered glass crushed by a hydraulic press.

In his pure-white palm, air was compressed into visible white streams.

When his palm fully extended, the atmosphere rippled like ocean waves, surging toward the crowd.

In that moment, everyone saw a towering tidal wave drowning them.

In truth, it was exactly that—except the wave drowning them wasn’t water, but blood.

‘Boom!!!!’

The four or five people in front were crushed into misty clouds of blood by the palm’s pressure.

Flesh and bone fragments sprayed with the shockwave, drenching those behind in blood, then the violent air current flung a dozen ahead into the air.

‘Bad! He’s at least a Third Transformation elder!’ thought Shi Yuexing, the one-eyed bandit.

But by the time she reacted, the boy had vanished from sight—then her neck hairs stood on end as a deathly dread erupted from behind.

Frozen in place, she dared not turn, sensing the silver-haired demon-like figure looming behind her.

A hand, light as a feather, had somehow settled atop her skull, crushing down with hundreds of tons of force.

‘Crack—’

The sound of her skull shattering rang crisp as ice splitting.

Fang Can gripped the bandit’s crown with one hand, driving immense force down through the Baihui point.

Shi Yuexing’s bones cracked one by one; her hardened body, forged over years, tore like paper.

Under the terrified stares of the crowd, amid the faint trembling of the ground, her entire body became blood-mud, shoved three chi deep into the earth.

‘Young master, beware!’ came Ji Xinyu’s voice from behind.

Behind Fang Can, a cultist swung a steel blade with full force toward his occiput.

‘Clang—’

As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Fang Can’s right hand pinched the incoming blade mid-swing.

Amid a metallic shriek, his wrist twisted slightly.

The steel blade shattered inch by inch between his fingers; shards flew, laced with heart-image energy.

Within ten zhang, seven cultists’ flesh bodies were instantly pierced; the ground bloomed again with crimson floral patterns.

The next instant, violet sword qi and ghostly shadows darted wildly through the crowd.

The boy’s silver hair swept through the throng as his Purple Rhombus blade spat three chi of icy radiance.

Seven streaks of violet sword qi split the air.

Those closest to him froze with snarling expressions, their throats now marked by hair-thin crimson lines.

The cultists’ laughter behind them froze on their faces—their steel blades suddenly shattered, shards curling back into their own eye sockets.

The ghostly shadows moved through the crowd at speed rivaling the sword qi.

Amid screams of agony, Fang Can’s fists effortlessly crushed skulls and punched through abdomens of the women around him.

A massacre unfolded among the crowd.

Thirty breaths.

A hundred corpses fanned out radially from the boy as center.

Fang Can lightly shook his Purple Rhombus blade; the entire scene fell utterly silent.

Ji Xinyu and the surviving disciples stared dumbfounded at the boy’s back as he sheathed his sword, their eyes filled with shock.

One breath, a hundred armors broken—this was the terror of a Third Transformation master.

And yet this boy, so young, already possessed the power of a sect patriarch.

Unaware of their thoughts, Fang Can internally sighed.

Killing a bunch of Tui Fan-level thugs took thirty breaths? He was regressing with age.

‘Thank you, Elder, for saving us.’

Ji Xinyu’s voice trembled; only now did she notice the boy’s robes untouched by dust, his boots unstained by blood—his power had reached the realm of transcendence.

‘No need.’ Fang Can waved lightly. ‘I merely happened upon injustice and acted.’

‘I’m new to the martial world, ignorant of its ways—even unaware of the major sects. Could you explain them to me?’ Fang Can smiled at Ji Xinyu.

Seeing the boy’s carefree smile, Ji Xinyu blushed deeply and lowered her head:

‘Of course, Elder. Please listen as I explain.’ Ji Xinyu suddenly understood.

No wonder she’d never heard of him—he was a genius obsessed with cultivation, only now entering the world.

As the girl spoke, Fang Can learned that in this martial world, power was divided into one cult, six sects, and twelve clans.

The cult was the most powerful, housing several Fourth Transformation masters.

Each of the six sects had one or two masters guarding them.

The twelve clans once had Fourth Transformation masters, but now only possessed Third Transformation ones.

The cult’s leader had vanished from the martial world for years.

Thus, the six sects planned to besiege the cult’s stronghold, Cloud Summit, to cleanse the martial world of evil.

‘What? Six sects attacking Bright Top…’ Fang Can internally scoffed, looking at the weak, female-dominated sects around him.

No wonder—it was a world ruled by female Sixth Transformations. A matriarchal world. Not surprising at all.

(End of Chapter)