All eyes turned toward him.
The man emerged from the wind and sand, like a ferocious beast birthed by the Red Sand Gobi itself.
He was powerfully built, his exposed skin bronze-colored and covered in bizarre tattoos that seemed alive.
Most striking of all was the blade in his hand.
It was over five feet long, broad-bladed, with red light seemingly flowing across its surface.
Merely held in his hand, it made the air around the blade shimmer slightly from the heat, radiating a scorching, dangerous aura.
He approached step by step, each heavy footfall striking the sandy, stony ground with dull thuds like war drums.
The pressure radiating from him rolled forth in waves.
It was the immense presence unique to the Grandmaster Realm, worlds apart from the True Origin Realm.
Under that pressure, the panicked crowds still fleeing through the streets and the horse bandits facing off against one another scattered like startled sheep, scrambling and crawling farther away for fear of drawing even the slightest notice from this baleful god.
Chen Qing's heart began pounding wildly in an instant.
The newcomer's clothing, so similar in style to Di Chang's, along with his undisguised killing intent and Grandmaster pressure, all proclaimed his identity: an expert of the Golden Court Eight Tribes!
Di Chang's death!
The thought flashed through Chen Qing's mind like lightning.
Di Chang was the nephew of Di Cang, the Great Chieftain of the Canglang Tribe. His status was unusual, and his death had indeed brought revenge!
And this was no ordinary expert—an actual Grandmaster had come personally!
An icy chill rose from his tailbone and spread through his entire body in an instant, while alarm bells rang madly in his heart.
Nan Zhuoran's expression was grave, faint purple arcs of lightning coursing around him.
"Chi