“When did I ever say that it was manmade[1]?” Sun Fuping gave a cold snort. “Do you truly think that something this seamless and sturdy, built in wartime and capable of withstanding the trampling of thousands of troops and siege engines, could be done without divine arts?”

This bridge was formed through divine arts?

Everyone instinctively looked down at the path beneath their feet, shaken by the realization.

“Earth-based spells and divine arts come in many forms. This was likely a variant of the Mountain-Moving Spell, and it would’ve taken at least fifty spellcasters working in unison to pull off.” Sun Fuping nudged the bridge’s surface with his boot, producing a metallic, ringing thud. “Hm, it was definitely not a cheap endeavor.”

And the quality held up. The bridge had lasted over a century without crumbling.

Situ Han whispered, “But wasn’t it said that divine arts are ineffective during war?”

Before anyone else could speak, He Lingchuan hushed him with a sharp “Shhh! You only know half the story. Divine arts are weakened when used directly against armies, but no one ever said they couldn’t be used during war. What’s the problem with constructing roads or bridges?”

He Lingchuan then pinched his chin thoughtfully and continued, “But then doesn’t that mean… that this bridge before Panlong City’s southern gate has been destroyed and rebuilt over and over again? The only reason this one’s still standing is probably because the coalition eventually won the battle.”

“That’s indeed most likely the case,” Sun Fuping agreed. “Panlong City would’ve needed this bridge for regular contact with the southern regions. But whenever war approached, the very first order would’ve been to sever it to stop the enemy from crossing.”

Nian Songyu kicked a melon-sized rock over the edge into the chasm. It took a long while before the sound of impact echoed back.

“It’s deep. If we fall, we’re done for.” He leaned over the edge, peering into the abyss. “This was probably the city’s moat, right? I can see chisel marks down there. It seems that they deepened it.”

Panlong City had been built against a natural barrier, and they had even reinforced their moat, making the water deeper and the current faster. Any attempt to climb up to the Chipa Plateau from the south was a logistical nightmare.

At least, it would have been an utterly challenging endeavor for any army.

For thirty-two years, Panlong City had clearly invested in fortifications.

Suddenly, there was commotion at the rear.

Ever since stepping onto the bridge, the possessed puppets had been growing increasingly agitated, struggling fiercely, trying to flee. One even bit a guard, leaving his left hand streaming blood.

As a result, the bindings were tightened. In the end, the two men had to be carried across the bridge.

The group finally arrived beneath the southern gate of Panlong City.

And truthfully, the legendary city’s outer walls were not as grand as He Lingchuan had imagined. They stood only fifteen meters tall, shaped like a great barrel. The outer face was not smooth, patched all over with bricks of differing colors, a testament to endless repairs.

The dry climate of the wasteland meant no moss grew along the base, but like the bridge, it was stained and weathered. The past century’s sand and wind had not scoured the marks away.

These were clear traces of war.

The walls were riddled with small holes, each slightly larger than a pomelo, too narrow for a person to climb through. He Lingchuan knew immediately that the inner side of the wall must contain hidden passageways and chambers for troops. These holes served for ventilation and reconnaissance, and could also be used to shoot arrows or thrust spears at enemies attempting to scale the walls.

These were all pretty standard features for military fortifications. And on the whole, the outer walls of Panlong City, with their dull gray finish, did not seem all that special.

But when they looked further up, they saw the truly fearsome part.

The entire top of the wall was bristling with black wooden spikes, long and short, crisscrossed in jagged rows, pointing in every direction like a maw of teeth.

Zeng Feixiong let out a low gasp. “Iron fir wood… crocodile teeth stakes!”

He was involved in the defense of Heishui City. As a major fortress on Yuan’s western frontier, it was naturally loaded with defensive installations. However, this style of using crocodile teeth stakes on the gates had fallen out of use for nearly a century, so it was his first time actually seeing them in person.

In siege warfare, attackers often relied on scaling ladders to storm the walls. But with crocodile teeth like these lining the parapets, the ladder heads could only rest on the spikes, leaving soldiers to scramble across the slick surface if they hoped to reach the walltop.

And that surface, rounded and treacherous, was coated in oil before battle, guaranteeing that virtually no one could keep their footing. And as if that was not cruel enough, defenders would then toss down torches to cook the attackers alive.

Iron fir stakes could withstand fire, but people could not.

Calling these walls “armed to the teeth” felt like no exaggeration at all.

Even Situ Han was wide-eyed, muttering under his breath, “It’s… it’s all real…”

“Let’s go in,” said Sun Fuping, the first to pull his gaze away. He led the group through the outer wall.

The outermost gate, made of iron fir wood, stood half ajar; the other half lay broken and lifeless on the ground. It had clearly suffered brutal assault in the past. Axe marks, blade gouges, and scorch scars were still plainly visible on its surface.

Damn, to think that something as tough as iron fir wood could actually be left so battered… He Lingchuan felt he had gained a new understanding of violence.

However, as he passed through the gate, he let out an involuntary “whoa.”

Beyond the outer wall was only two-thirds of a kilometer of open ground, and then…

A second towering wall!

Even He Chunhua could not help exclaiming, “This is the tallest barbican[2] I’ve ever seen!”

The second wall stood fifteen meters taller than the first. Every defensive feature found on the outer wall was present here again, duplicated and reinforced.

He Lingchuan even spotted several catapults mounted atop the gatehouse.

Sun Fuping shook his head. “Who said this is a barbican?”

The group continued through the second gate and came to a sudden halt.

There was a third wall ahead!

This third wall rose another fifteen meters above the second, bringing the total height to forty-five meters!

With three gates and three walls, Panlong City truly was armed to the teeth.

“This is the barbican!” Situ Han sucked in a sharp breath. “Any enemy who made it this far must’ve wanted to scream.”

After the grueling climb over the natural chasm, after breaking through two walls, a would-be conqueror would think that they had finally reached the heart of the city, ready to feast on the soft flesh beneath the hide. But no, another bite revealed a third layer of armored scales.

To make it this far, only to face yet another towering wall… That would drain the will right out of anyone.

He Lingchuan thought that the person who designed this place was definitely vicious.

However, even this third wall was not unscathed. He noticed traces of fire around one of the arrow slits. Clearly, the coalition armies had reached this point.

The ferocity of that battle was not in doubt.

At last, after crossing the gates, the group stepped into Panlong City itself.

What greeted them was a massive square, or perhaps more accurately, an enormous open field. It could easily hold two thousand people. With their current group of just two hundred, it felt practically empty.

Turning to look back, they saw a giant bas-relief of a long, serpentine creature embedded on the wall of the barbican.

The serpentine creature resembled both serpent and python, covered in lifelike scales, but it had horns atop its head, whiskers beneath its jaw, and bulging eyes with a gaping maw.

He Lingchuan recognized it instantly. This was Panlong, the coiled dragon the city was named after.

However, it was not a true dragon but a jiao, also known as a flood dragon.

Beneath the black relief was a long stone offering table, used in past times for citizens to present sacrifices. Nearby stood a tall tributary tower and an incense burner, each nearly three and a half meters in height, grand and imposing. Of course, they were now cold and unused.

At the far end of the square lay a large pool, though it was bone-dry now. Even after more than a hundred years, the structure remained mostly intact, missing only a few segments along its rim. Situ Han tapped the edge. “What was this pool for?”

Sun Fuping explained, “Every ancient city in the Panlong Wasteland had a tradition. Before troops were dispatched, they’d drink from here and swear an oath.”

1. The wording here actually specifically refers to work done by hand, but this just sounds better. ☜

2. A barbican is is a fortified outpost or fortified gateway, such as at an outer defense perimeter of a city or castle, or any tower situated over a gate or bridge which was used for defensive purposes. It’s also typically situated behind the main gate or first line of defense. ☜