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“Master,” one of the disciples said nervously, hearing the sounds of fighting outside.

“Drink your tea,” the old man replied, waving his hand.

The old woman who ran the tea stall seemed frightened and slipped into the tent.

Xu Zimo looked up, his eyes turning toward the outside.

Amid the swirling yellow sand, several figures were fighting fiercely.

Faint shouts echoed through the chaos.

“Qin Longyong! You stole our sect’s sacred treasure, surrender now!”

“Wei Wuyan, you know better than anyone who really stole it. Don’t try to throw mud on me! If you want to fight, then fight!”

A dozen people clashed in the sandstorm. Though outnumbered, the disheveled man held his ground.

Neither side could gain an advantage for the moment.

Xu Zimo finished his cup of tea and looked toward the old man from the Celestial Mortal Holy Lands.

“Let’s go.”

“They’re still fighting out there, shouldn’t we wait?” one of the disciples asked hesitantly.

“If we wait for them to finish, it’ll be dark,” Xu Zimo said, waving his hand. “We’ll go our own way. It has nothing to do with us.”

The old man nodded in agreement.

As the group stepped out of the tea stall, the combatants noticed them and froze for a moment, their expressions wary.

The disheveled man’s eyes lit up with sudden hope.

“Brother Wang! Brother Li! Help me!” he shouted toward Xu Zimo’s group.

“You know these people?” the opposing fighters demanded, their faces darkening.

The old man from the Celestial Mortal Holy Lands frowned slightly and said to the messy-haired stranger, “Friend, that’s rather shameless of you.”

“Kill them!” one of the enemies shouted impatiently.

Half of them charged at the disheveled man, while the others rushed toward Xu Zimo and his group.

“The glory of Heaven’s might, arise, my sect’s divine power!”

Before Xu Zimo even moved, the old man had already acted.

His hands formed a flurry of seals, and behind him appeared a massive celestial sword, over a hundred meters long.

Lightning crackled around its blade as it swept horizontally through the air.

In an instant, dozens of heads fell to the ground.

This old man was a cultivator at the God Meridian Realm, a formidable level of power.

In the Nine Heavens, a Grand Emperor had the strength to found a Dao Court.

A Saint Sovereign held upper-tier influence and could create a God Realm.

And an Infinite Dao cultivator could look down upon all nine heavens.

Though the God Meridian Realm was far weaker than a Grand Emperor, one had to remember, the Nine Heavens were vast beyond measure, and most cultivators struggled below that level.

Seeing the old man’s devastating attack, the remaining enemies panicked and fled.

The old man did not pursue. His gaze merely lingered on the messy-haired man.

“Thank you for saving my life,” the disheveled man said with a forced smile. “Things happened fast just now, I didn’t mean to drag you in. Could we perhaps be friends?”

“Sir, what do you think?” the old man asked Xu Zimo, deferring to him.

This old man does know how to behave, Xu Zimo thought with a faint smile.

He raised his right hand, grabbing the disheveled man by the throat and lifting him into the air.

“Those people out there were ants to me,” Xu Zimo said casually. “If you had asked me nicely, maybe I’d have killed them for you. But you tried to use me. Tell me, do you think you’re worthy?”

He squeezed, and snapped the man’s neck.

Unfortunately, the man wasn’t of the Fire God Race, or Xu Zimo might have tested him on the blue-skinned man’s condition.

Seeing Xu Zimo kill so coldly, the disciples of the Celestial Mortal Holy Lands shrank back in fright, huddling behind their master.

“May I ask your name, young lord?” the old man said politely. “I am Zhang Hengzhi, Holy Lord of the Celestial Mortal Holy Lands.”

“Xu Zimo,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “Just a nameless wanderer.”

Nameless wanderer Xu Zimo, he found the phrase rather fitting.

“Are you also heading to the Chaos Fire God Realm to compete for entry into the Fire God Race’s Ancestral Grounds?” Zhang Hengzhi asked with a smile.

“Something like that,” Xu Zimo nodded. “And your sect as well?”

“Yes. But the competition isn’t what truly matters,” Zhang Hengzhi said. “I mainly want these youngsters to gain some worldly experience.”

As they spoke, the group continued toward the Chaos Fire God Realm.

After witnessing Xu Zimo’s ruthless decisiveness, the disciples had grown quiet. They no longer chirped and joked as before.

The closer they came to the Fire Heaven, the drier the land grew.

The earth cracked like desert stone. Vegetation was rare, and water nearly nonexistent.

The Fire God Race hated water, it was their natural opposite.

After about seven days of travel, Zhang Hengzhi pointed toward the horizon one afternoon.

“Look, Young Lord Xu,” he said, smiling. “That towering blaze in the distance, that’s the entrance to the Chaos Fire God Realm.”

Xu Zimo nodded slightly.

In the past few days, he’d learned that Zhang Hengzhi, though not particularly powerful, had a solid Dao Heart and sharp insight. A humble man, but a shrewd one.

As the group continued on, they suddenly heard a woman’s cry.

“Help! Please, help me!”

A young woman came running from the distance, shouting desperately.

When she saw people ahead, her voice grew louder and clearer.

She wore a red dress that stood out vividly against the yellow sands, her silken ribbons fluttering as she ran.

When she reached them, she was gasping for breath.

“Miss, what’s wrong?” Zhang Hengzhi asked.

“Someone’s trying to kill me!” she cried. “Please, save me! My father is a guardian of the Chaos Fire God Realm. If you save me, he’ll reward you generously!”

Zhang Hengzhi smiled faintly. “Miss, there’s no one behind you.”

The woman froze, turned, and saw nothing but the empty desert.

“How… how is that possible? They were just there…” she murmured, her face twisting in confusion before she sighed. “Forget it.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Could you at least escort me to the Chaos Fire God Realm?”

“It is just ahead,” Zhang Hengzhi replied. “If the young lady wishes to travel together, we don’t mind.”

He glanced at Xu Zimo, who gave a slight nod, he didn’t care either way.

As they walked, the woman proved to be remarkably talkative. Her curiosity seemed endless.

“You’re here to compete, right?” she asked. “I don’t think you stand much of a chance. The God Realm released a list of the top contenders, the Dragonfire Rankings, and none of you are on it.”

Her words made the disciples bristle.

“Our Holy Lord is very strong!” one protested.

“Oh really?” the woman smiled. “How strong?”

“The God Realm’s chosen contestants are all Grand Emperors, and some are on the verge of becoming Saint Sovereigns.”

At that, the disciples fell silent.

To them, both Grand Emperors and Saint Sovereigns were distant, untouchable figures.