FWWWWEEEEET!
The crisp sound of Pei Xuan’s brass whistle echoed across Dry-Well Capital Plaza.
Right away, the heavy wooden doors of the four surrounding avenue barracks swung wide open.
STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
Ten thousand pairs of steel-toed boots hit the pavement in a single, earth-shaking rhythm!
Marching out onto the wide balconies, rooftops, and stone walls overlooking the central plaza were ten thousand burly men and women wearing neat navy-blue militia jackets over their farmer overalls, with shiny brass badges on their chests reading [ DRY-WELL FIRST COMBINED-ARMS FARMER MILITIA ].
Just two years ago, these ten thousand people had been starving refugees from the Red-Sand Wastes and Great Yan who didn’t even have a single Spirit Root in their bodies.
Now, after eating Old Guo’s spirit-grain three times a day, soaking in Ao Ming’s dragon-heated bathhouses, and practicing Pei Xuan’s fused [Furnace-Blood Scripture] at night school, every single one of these ten thousand farmers had smashed open their dantians with boiling blood-Qi and reached Rank 4 Qi Gathering!
