High Martial Arts: Martial Soul Great Sage Equal to Heaven, crushing all races.

The surrounding new students instantly erupted into chaos, a cacophony of noise erupting.

"How could he get on the Black Dragon Chariot?!"

"What is he wearing?! What kind of armor is that?!"

Yun Tianyi, however, seemed to have gone mad. He pointed a trembling finger at the figure bathed in golden light on the chariot, and with all his might, roared at his stunned companions, enunciating each word clearly:

"General's Armor!!"

He pointed at the figure in the sky, and shouted with all his might at all the stunned freshmen around him:

"Look closely! Crimson gold armor! Tiger-head shoulder guards! A scarlet cloak on the back—that's the standard armor only a general is qualified to wear!!"

"My brother Feng Mo!! He's back wearing the armor of a general!!!"

"boom--!!!"

This statement was a hundred times more powerful than the impact of that sixth-tier black dragon!

Seeing Feng Mo and Feng Qingyang standing side by side was simply shocking.

So, seeing him wearing that armor that only a general was qualified to wear was a huge earthquake that overturned everyone's understanding!

"Holy crap..."

The two words seemed to be forced out of Kim Jong-il's throat.

He felt his mind go blank, and subconsciously raised his hand, slapping a classmate next to him hard on the shoulder with a "smack," so hard that the classmate stumbled.

But he was completely oblivious, his eyes fixed on the chariot in the sky, muttering unconsciously to himself.

"Feng Mo... awesome..."

On the other side of the line, the faces of the provincial prodigies who had once been defeated by Feng Mo in the martial arts exam, but who had now also been admitted to the Shanghai Martial Arts University and wore the reserve badge of the Demon Slayer Division on their chests, were all more interesting than the last.

Shock, confusion, bitterness, resentment... In the end, all emotions turned into a deep sense of powerlessness.

A young man from a prestigious family who had briefly clashed with Feng Mo in the elimination rounds subconsciously tucked the badge he had once been so proud of into his clothes, as if he felt somewhat ashamed.

They were still smug about becoming reserve members, and still excited about being able to catch a glimpse of the general's pomp and circumstance from afar.

Meanwhile, the boy who was their age was already wearing the armor of a general, standing on a cloud they could only look up to, receiving the welcome of hundreds of thousands of people.

This is the difference.

The difference is like heaven and earth.

Chu Qiulan stood silently in the crowd, without saying a word.

As the black dragon chariot slowly passed overhead, its massive shadow completely enveloped her.

In that instant, she seemed to sense something and suddenly raised her head.

On the chariot, the figure clad in crimson-gold armor seemed to casually glance down, and their eyes met for a fleeting moment in the air.

That gaze was calm and indifferent, as if looking down upon the masses of people beneath his feet.

Chu Qiulan's heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand.

She abruptly lowered her eyes, avoiding his gaze.

The hand hidden in the sleeve, the knuckles white from the effort, the sharp nails digging deep into the tender flesh of the palm, sending a sharp pain through the hand.

For the first time, she felt a sense of frustration called "unattainable".

At the very front of the procession, Yun Wanrou stood with her hands behind her back, gazing quietly at the old man and the young man standing side by side on the chariot.

Her heart was filled with mixed emotions.

Only at this moment did she finally understand the true meaning of Li Changqing's words to her in Jian'an Province, "You are not qualified."

That doesn't refer to her identity, nor to her abilities.

It's about perspective.

The black dragon chariot slowly descended and hovered above the huge plaza in front of the Demon Slayer Division headquarters.

More than a dozen large military transport planes landed behind them, and their cabin doors opened one by one.

Armored personnel carriers were lined up neatly, and their doors slowly opened.

It revealed faces inside, each one bewildered yet tinged with fear.

They are the 30,000 people who were rescued from Xinlan Town.

When they first saw this magnificent city, which resembled a steel forest, and the endless, dark crowds below, many were so frightened that they shrank back into the cabin.

However, the next second, a deafening roar of cheers erupted from below!

"Welcome home!!"

"hero!!"

The cheers, though unaffected by any external force, coalesced into a torrent powerful enough to shake the heavens, dispelling the fear and unease in the hearts of the people.

A child peered curiously down from the hatch. A young soldier in a Demon Slayer uniform walked over, smiled, patted the child's head, and handed him a piece of candy.

The child timidly took the candy, unwrapped it, and cautiously licked it once. Immediately, his eyes lit up.

It's sweet, and delicious!

The joy of victory, like a strong, mellow liquor, permeated and fermented along the entire Triumph Avenue.

An elderly woman with white hair shuffled to the front of the cordon and shoved a net full of bright yellow oranges into the arms of a young demon slayer who was passing by.

"Child, take this, take this..." The old woman's eyes were red, and her voice choked with sobs, "My son... was also from the Demon Slayer Division, he... passed away the year before last. You've come back for him, that's wonderful, that's wonderful..."

The young demon slayer looked at the heavy oranges in his arms, his lips moved a few times, but he didn't say anything.

He remained silent, solemnly accepted the gift, and then gave the old woman a perfectly standard military salute.

Not far away, Yang Jinyun, Zhao Yuping, and Chen Dong, three fifth-level generals, were directing their subordinates to guide the people of Xinlan Town to disembark in an orderly manner.

Looking at the surging crowd below, and at the expressions on the faces of their compatriots that went from bewilderment to shock, and then to gradual relief, these three tough men, who had fought their way in and out of the monster horde without batting an eye, couldn't help but raise their hands and rub their sore eyes.

At this moment, their sense of belonging and identification with Feng Mo reached an unprecedented peak.

It was this young man who led them to accomplish this feat that even General Feng could not achieve.

Pursuing the strong is a martial artist's nature.

For them, following a strong leader who could guide them to create miracles and bring hope to this land was the greatest honor of their lives.

At the entrance of the resettlement site, an elderly man from Xinlan Town, also with white hair and beard, stepped off the armored vehicle with the help of soldiers.

He looked at the smooth, mirror-like ground beneath his feet, his face filled with awe.

He crouched down, stretching out his calloused and muddy hands, wanting to touch this clean land.

Just before his fingertips touched the ground, he jerked them back as if he had been electrocuted, and then vigorously rubbed them back and forth on his coarse cloth clothes, which were also covered in mud.

This humble yet devout gesture struck everyone who witnessed it as if something had struck their heart hard, leaving them with a bittersweet feeling.

Two hundred years of domestication and two hundred years of subservience have etched fear and inferiority into their very bones.

On the Black Dragon Chariot.

Feng Qingyang patted Feng Mo, who was standing silently beside him, on the shoulder, pointed to the main road below that was crowded with hundreds of thousands of people, and looked on with a hint of reminiscence.

"This is the road that Lei Jun walked 126 years ago. He single-handedly suppressed the Dragon King of the East Sea, slew a million demons, and returned in triumph."

He paused, then turned to look at Feng Mo. His eyes, which always carried a hint of laziness, were now filled with admiration and expectation.

"Your trip today can be seen as a way of passing on the torch."

Feng Mo remained silent.

His gaze calmly swept over the faces below, some excited, some worshipful, some in awe, and over the compatriots who looked around blankly after being rescued. Finally, it landed on the banner that hung high and read "Welcome Home".

His state of mind remained largely calm.

For him, this was just the beginning.

The chariot slowly drove towards the magnificent gatehouse of the Demon Slayer Division headquarters, which resembled the maw of a giant beast.

As he was about to arrive, amidst the intense anticipation of everyone, Feng Qingyang suddenly took a deep breath and channeled his inner energy.

His voice, though not loud, carried clearly to every corner of the avenue, drowning out all the noise.

"A grand victory celebration banquet will be held tonight at the Demon Slayer Division headquarters!"

"For the Demon Slayer Division of Shanghai, and for all of us—"

Feng Qingyang emphasized his words, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"Young General Feng Mo, welcome me with a feast to wash away the dust of the journey!"

The four words "Young General" resounded like thunder in the crowd!

This is no longer speculation or discussion, but General Feng Qingyang admitting it in front of the entire city of Shanghai!

Feng Mo, the martial arts champion who was only eighteen years old, ascended to the pinnacle of power in Shanghai on his very first day of school in a way that no one expected!