This sudden sight jolted Chen Fan back to his senses. When he looked again, the imperial city was resplendent in gold and jade, wreathed in drifting clouds and mist. Where was there any manifestation of a golden dragon? What he had just seen seemed like nothing more than an illusion.
Yet he knew it had been real. More than a dozen Nascent Soul cultivators traveling with him had noticed nothing; he alone had seen it.
That was the aura of dragon might. It came from the Human Emperor, from the entire imperial palace that had stood for over a thousand years, and from all the people of the Kingdom of Wu.
The faith of countless people had gathered to create that golden dragon. So long as its dragon might endured, it would guard the Kingdom of Wu and preserve its prosperity and splendor! But now, though that golden dragon possessed a distinct form, it was incomparably illusory. Its dragon might was about to run dry. The Kingdom of Wu's national fortune likely could not last much longer—perhaps only a few more decades.
"Fellow Daoist, we shall part ways here. If fate allows, we will meet again someday!" At that moment, several attendants spoke with faint smiles, interrupting Chen Fan's thoughts.
Chen Fan nodded slightly in farewell. Then they cupped their hands, turned, and transformed into streaks of light as they departed.
Watching them leave, Chen Fan understood clearly. Though they were powerful cultivators of high realms, they had treated him with such courtesy only because they feared the nonexistent talisman artifact master behind him, not him personally. This truly was a world where strength reigned supreme.
A short while later, Chen Fan landed outside the imperial city. Just as in Hundred Wastes City, cultivators were forbidden from flying through the