Above the emerald peaks of Astral Wind Sacred Mountain, the starry sky turned dark cyan as ten thousand thousand-foot-long Wind-Spirit Dragons roared in unison!
Each Wind-Spirit Dragon was condensed from the purest Rank 8 Vacuum-Blade Essence stored in the sect’s ancestral vein over forty thousand years. Their scales were spinning wind-razors, their claws could rip through three-foot star-steel hulls like wet paper, and their combined breath could strip the atmosphere and crust right off a mid-sized planet!
Standing atop the central mountain altar with his green silk robes whipping wildly, Sect Master Feng Wanli (Rank 8 Peak) laughed with ferocious pride as he pointed his ancestral jade seal down at the Light-Year Sword-Rail Express:
“Kneel and despair, outer-sector bumpkin! This is our Astral Wind Sect’s supreme guardian formation—the Ten-Thousand Dragon Gale Apocalypse! Even a fellow Rank 8 Peak Solar Sovereign would be shaveddown to white bones in three breaths! Let’s see how your little iron train blocks ten thousand immortal wind-dragons!”
Behind the Sect Master, ten thousand core disciples cheered and beat their war-drums, waiting to watch the black-and-gold train get torn into scrap metal.
However, down at the back of the train on the towed warship deck, Grand Elder Feng Luan and Elder Feng Buping didn’t cheer at all. Instead, both of them ducked behind a stack of empty soup barrels and covered their faces in secondhand embarrassment.
