Cannons thundered.
Fang Qing still strolled as if taking a leisurely walk through a garden, while the embassy district behind him lay ravaged and scarred.
"All right, now... I'm going to inspect your fleet."
He looked toward several foreigners at the edge whose expressions had collapsed in despair, his voice carrying far into the distance.
Under Fang Qing's control, this expanse of rain clouds in the outer landscape was likewise "moving," drifting toward the river mouth.
Dark silhouettes gradually emerged upon the sea, drawing ever closer.
These were ironclad warships, the pride of the foreigners—power capable of conquering the world, requiring the coordinated labor of tens of thousands of workers, hundreds of factories, thousands of enterprises, and dozens of research institutes to produce! By then, news of Fang Qing had already reached the vessels.
"Rain clouds?"
A lookout raised his binoculars and shouted, "Target locked!"
"Prepare the main guns!"
The commander wore a white suit with a cape draped behind him, his chest covered in spotless medals of every color.
He gave the order calmly. "A superhuman capable of flight is indeed rare... far stronger than that so-called martial artist we killed before. But no matter what, he cannot stand against the Empire's artillery. These are weapons capable of slaying gods!" As messengers ran back and forth, a thick cannon barrel atop an ironclad warship had already aimed at that bank of rain clouds.
"Fire!"
Amid countless furious roars, a shell blasted forth with a deafening boom. It had also been loaded with high-energy crystals newly developed by the research institute that year; one shot could blow apart an area as large as a football field! As the main gun bellowed, countless secondary guns roared as well, violent explosions detonating all around. Clearly, they intended to cut off the last