My Hair Can Create a Demon Country

The two giants, both have connections to ancient civilizations from over a hundred thousand years ago.

The West refers to them as the Anunnaki, the God of Wisdom Jiaxia.

The East calls them the Founder Ancestors of Huaxia, Emperor Xia, divine entities of the Great Xia Dynasty.

"They think there really is a prehistoric myth."

"But who knows, everything was created unintentionally by me in this era? What they traverse is nothing but the parallel cosmos of Earth, while I suffer from disasters on my Earth homeland."

Fu Qingjun fell from the sky, landing atop the hair of a blonde beauty.

With legs crossed, he sat atop the girl's head in an extremely relaxed pose, watching the scenery of the street ahead,

"But indeed, there really was a prehistoric instance, Jiaxia truly returned to the past... separated by tens of thousands of years, he and I are remotely confronting each other."

"That stubborn man." Fu Qingjun seemed to gaze back into the past, the familiar phrase still ringing in his ears: onto the next future.

"But since I've come here, it's time to meet another old acquaintance living here."

Fu Qingjun's expression was serene.

His spirit sensed the location of Boxer University from the head of the woman beneath him.

He smiled slightly, "The autonomous region of Hawks Kingdom, built by the coast. Unsurprisingly, the most famous university occupies the finest sea view."

Whoosh!

The strong wind roared, with Fu Qingjun riding the clouds, surrounded by sonic booms.

After some time.

Fu Qingjun descended onto a street.

On either side were short green trees.

In the distance was a massive arched gate, with a white rectangular stone tablet standing on the sidewalk in front, inscribed with: Boxer University.

At the gate, all were young men and women walking.

In the guard booth beside, an old man with glasses sat by the window, studying a pocket watch with a magnifying glass, and upon close inspection, it was from Miao Chun Hall.

"After reading that Maya book yesterday, I increasingly feel that Professor Naxika is still a noteworthy scholarly talent."

Fu Qingjun floated lightly, bypassing the guard, his view greeted by an endless blue sea scene.

At the edge of the sea scene was a huge fountain square, with a white statue in the center—a mermaid, gracefully shaped, highly aesthetic, clearly the masterpiece of a Western craftsman.

Arriving at the history department building, entering the third-floor corridor, he sensed familiar soul vibrations.

At this moment,

"Good morning!"

"Good morning!"

The tall Professor Naxika greeted several teachers nearby as she walked.

"Professor Naxika, congratulations, your newly published book 'Chronicles of Mayan Civilization' is selling like hotcakes, seventy thousand copies sold in just two days."

"Yes, I heard that the buying crowd is booming; many are affluent knights and martial artists, even nobles—everyone has a set... Emperor Lianna of Martial Dao is truly a mythical figure with immense charisma," commented a freckled, middle-aged, plump woman with a textbook in her arms.

Clearly,

Just like Isaac, that segment of Maya history resonates deeply with martial artists.

The decline of the martial arts era, an individual embodies an era of Martial Dao.

Isn't it just the evident decay of martial arts today? The historical depth and melancholy in the text touch everyone.

Moreover, there's a twist at the end.

Witch Yudula was defeated by the Demon Lord, Emperor Lianna re-emerged, carving a bloody path, bringing the civilization's last rays into the misty depths—will Martial Dao rise again?

It's not without reason it's a bestseller.

It resonates with the tides of the era, providing an immersive experience.

"Walking in the campus, many knight descendants from the martial arts department are discussing it lately—they say Emperor Lianna, suppressing an era alone, turning her back on humanity, has become their dream goddess." The plump woman laughed, carrying the lecture materials for students, "You truly are a prominent figure in our history department."

"You flatter me, please go to your class, it's about time for the bell." Professor Naxika smiled, bypassing the plump woman and returning to her office.

Spit!

The plump woman spat, speaking to several professors nearby:

"That woman, relying on her husband Morton, our dean emeritus and a frontline legionnaire, just to make her book sell, fabricates lies—it's simply a disgrace to our history department! Full of deceit, she should be nailed to the disgrace rack at the church and burned!"

Several history professors echoed,

"I think so too, way too much doubt, how could it conveniently match the mindset of the martial arts family and still manage to archaeological find this segment of Maya history?"

"I haven't seen her do any archaeological work recently—where did she get such detailed and lively historical records? It's suspicious."

"Witches, Angels, Demons... it's clearly a mythological adaptation."

"Mayan Civilization is indeed an existing ancient history, but she modified it like this."

The plump woman shook her head vigorously, "The fabrication is too obvious—using a witch as an antagonist, witches indeed symbolize the church's impurity and should be burned... she uses this antagonist to resonate with knights, what a calculation."

Fu Qingjun frowned.

Sure enough, where there are people, there's a circle of fame and fortune.

After listening for some time, he did not pay heed, continuing to move forward.

Suddenly, a history professor pointed to the sky outside the corridor, stuttering, "W-What is that?!! An Angel?"

"Praise God, I saw an angel." This professor quite clearly was a church adherent.

Everyone paused, instinctively looking over, yet saw nothing.

"Nonsense, you're clearly brainwashed by that profane woman Naxika." The plump woman cursed.

Fu Qingjun bypassed the noisy corridor, reaching Professor Naxika's office.

The office was filled with various manuscript materials, bookshelves fully stocked, clearly dense yet giving off a very fair impression.

Professor Naxika was organizing manuscripts while seated.

But these days, she couldn't shake off scenes from her mind—the era's dirge, the earth's blood, the creatures' wails, and the steadfast Emperor Lianna, riding the Feathered Serpent God, ultimately entering the dark mist.

In the end, what transpired?

She cared more than anyone about that segment of history, losing sleep over it.

Effort brings reward.

But is reality truly like that?

"Emperor Lianna carved a path for the creatures, sacrificing everything to restore flourishing times, betting everything—but can she really succeed?" She had researched many historical facts, understanding how brutally unkind reality is—not every effort brings reward.

For instance, today's knights train arduously from youth, shedding endless sweat, yet cannot withstand a mundane person wielding a gun.

"That era seemed like today's Martial Dao curse, it has faded, everything has faded... Is Emperor Lianna..." She couldn't help but mutter, as if clutching a flame of hope.

Whether Lianna can rise seems to represent a glimmer of hope for them of this era.

Suddenly, she heard a clear voice,

"Naxika, dozens of thousands of years have passed, long time no see."

Professor Naxika's attention was drawn by the voice, she put down the historical materials in her hand, looking up here.

"You are..."

Professor Naxika gazed, her expression becoming extremely complex, "Traversed tens of thousands of years of time, countless dynasties' iteration and destruction, you still live."