146: Chapter 146 All factions learned that the new mecha had appeared.

The morning mist had not yet cleared when footsteps echoed along the small path by the training ground.

Five mechas stood in the middle of the runway, green lights flickering on their bodies as if they were breathing.

The blue light had not yet faded, the thrusters were still hot, and the sand on the ground swirled in the hot wind.

Chen Wuwang stood on the high platform; the bandage on his right arm was slightly blackened, but he paid it no mind. He took off his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye and wiped it with the corner of his clothing.

The action looked casual, but the group of people in the distance stopped dead in their tracks.

There were seven or eight of them, all wearing different clothes. Some had Family insignias embroidered on their garments, some wore Sect medallions, and others were draped in the banners of a Loose Cultivator.

They stood at the entrance of the training ground, none of them daring to take another step forward.

"Is that… an Iron Beast?" a Gray-robed man asked in a low voice, his tone trembling. "Is that what blew up the stone tablet last night?"

Beside him, a middle-aged man in a green shirt stared at the cannon muzzle of the No. 1 mecha and swallowed hard. "It's not an Iron Beast, it's a mecha. The Eastern Wasteland hasn't seen one in three hundred years."

"I heard it was made by the Chen Family themselves," another person said. "Three days ago they were still drawing blueprints, and now it can fly and fight."

As soon as he finished speaking, Chen Wuwang walked down from the high platform. His boots crunched on the scorched ground, making a clacking sound.

He stopped ten steps away from the crowd and put the wiped Mechanical Prosthetic Eye back on. The blue light swept across everyone's faces.

"You have arrived," he said. "Guests who come uninvited are still guests, but standing there without moving—are you afraid?"

The Gray-robed man gave a wry smile and cupped his hands in a salute. "It's not that we don't want to enter, it's that we truly dare not get close. Just now, when that iron thing's eyes swept over, the back of my neck went cold, as if I were being stared at by a wild beast."

Chen Wuwang smiled and raised his hand in a gesture.

The head of the No. 1 mecha slowly turned, its blue eyes illuminating the entire field, sweeping across everyone's faces before extinguishing.

"It only listens to me," Chen Wuwang said.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, yet they grew even more nervous. A person who could make such a massive object obey was even more terrifying than the machine itself.

"Come in," Chen Wuwang said, stepping aside.

The few of them looked at each other before carefully walking into the training ground.

Someone stumbled as soon as they stepped on it—the ground was still vibrating slightly, a remnant of the test explosion earlier.

Chen Wuwang led them up to the high platform. On the platform was a wooden table with several coarse bowls filled with hot tea, emitting white steam.

He personally picked up the teapot and filled the bowls one by one, his movements unhurried. "Sit," he said. "Everything I'm letting you see is exactly what I want you to see."

The Gray-robed man held the tea bowl, his hands trembling slightly. "Last night, even a hundred miles away, we saw blue fire soaring into the sky. We all thought someone was Undergoing Tribulation."

"It was not Undergoing Tribulation," Chen Wuwang said as he sat down, crossing one leg over the other. The wind stirred a strand of his silver hair. "It was just me and my brothers, carving a line across the sky."

The man in the green shirt couldn't help but ask, "How many more of these… mechas can you build?"

"Five for now," Chen Wuwang blew on his tea. "Tomorrow there will still be five, and the day after, perhaps fifty. How many there will be in the future depends on how many enemies there are."

The expressions of the crowd changed.

Someone else asked, "How strong must one be to pilot this mecha? Do you need Foundation Establishment? Golden Core? Or must it be a Sword Cultivator Genius?"

Chen Wuwang did not answer directly. He smiled. "In the past, people said the Chen Family was weak and wouldn't last three years. Some said we lived by mining and would eventually be wiped out."

He looked up at everyone. "Now, they have shut their mouths."

After saying this, he tapped the table lightly.

The five mechas activated simultaneously, emitting a low hum. The tea bowls on the table vibrated gently, and ripples formed on the surface of the water.

The green lights brightened, pulsing in perfect unison.

The Gray-robed man gripped his tea bowl tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"You came to see the mechas," Chen Wuwang stood up, walked to the edge of the platform, and turned his back to the mountains, facing the crowd. "But in reality, you wanted to see if I have the ability to defend this land."

The wind blew through his long hair, making the three scars on the right side of his face clearly visible.

"Now, you know."

He raised his hand.

The five mechas simultaneously raised their heads, their shoulder-mounted cannons tilting slightly upward. It wasn't an attack, but like wild beasts raising their heads, it was a silent warning.

There was silence below.

A young representative forced himself to remain calm, though his voice trembled. "No matter how powerful the mecha is, it requires a pilot. If no one knows how to pilot it, it's just a pile of scrap metal."

Chen Wuwang sneered and looked at him. "Do you know who was the first person to climb into it?"

The man was stunned and could not answer.

Chen Wuwang said nothing more.

He knew the answer—it was a young boy afraid of flying, whose hands had trembled so much the first time he got into the mecha that he couldn't even grasp the controls.

But there was no need to explain now. Facts spoke clearer than words.

The Gray-robed man looked down at his tea bowl; the steam had long since vanished. He felt the bowl of tea had become very heavy, like a piece of iron.

An old man in a brown robe stared at the joints of the mecha and whispered, "Can this thing… really repair itself? I just saw a crack, and the green light crawled over it, sealing it shut in an instant."

"It is alive," Chen Wuwang said. "Driven by the lives of my clansmen, powered by conviction. If you strike it, it feels pain; if you protect it, it remembers."

The man in the green shirt gave a wry smile. "No wonder someone said last night that the Chen Family had created an 'Iron Spirit'."

"It is not an Iron Spirit," Chen Wuwang shook his head. "It is a comrade-in-arms."

He walked back to the table, picked up the last bowl of tea he hadn't drunk, finished it in one gulp, and set the bowl on the edge of the platform. The wind blew, the bowl wobbled, but it didn't fall.

"You may leave now," he said. "Take this message back—the Chen Family does not seek trouble, but we do not fear it either. Whoever wants to test these five mechas is welcome at any time."

No one moved.

The Gray-robed man finally spoke. "We… were just ordered to come and take a look."

"You've seen enough," Chen Wuwang nodded. "Then go back and tell your masters—do not send scouts to prowl around my Spiritual Vein. Next time I catch them, I cannot guarantee they will walk out on their own feet."

The expressions of the crowd changed drastically.

Chen Wuwang ignored them further and turned to walk toward the mechas, his steps steady.

Sunlight shone on his shoulder armor, reflecting a cold light.

The five mechas stood silently, cannons pointed to the sky, green lights flowing, like five silent mountains.

The people below still stood there, their feet as if rooted to the ground.

The Gray-robed man watched Chen Wuwang's retreating figure and whispered, "This person… is not the same as he was three years ago."

The man in the green shirt touched the secret letter in his sleeve but said nothing. On it were written four words: "Eliminate him immediately."

But he dared not take it out to read it now.

The wind grew stronger, whipping up sand and dust that lashed against the mechas, only to be deflected away.

A sparrow flew over, landed on the shoulder of the No. 1 mecha, tilted its head to take a look, and flew away again.

As if it were not a weapon, but just a piece of iron.

Chen Wuwang walked up to the mecha, raised his hand, and gently patted the armor.

"Good work," he said.

The green light flickered, as if in response.