Damn It

In this vast, boundless, unbearably scorching Desert World, the blazing sunlight poured down without restraint, roasting every grain of sand until it was searing hot. Howling winds wrapped in sand surged and roared like raging waves, and wherever they passed, heaven and earth turned yellow, shrouded in chaos.

Amid the boundless yellow sands, a group struggling across the desert pressed onward. Every one of them was fit and sharp-eyed, their bodies radiating the formidable aura of long years of cultivation and the arrogance that came from the Xiao family. They wore specially made black martial uniforms, their hems snapping in the gale. Their steps were firm, though tinged with the weariness of a long journey.

At the very front of the group was a middle-aged Martial Path Cultivator named Xiao Zhentian. He stood straight as a pine, the broad flesh of his face gleaming bronze beneath the sunlight. His eyes were like deep, frigid pools, shooting out a chilling glint. He gripped a long saber of savage design, its blade flashing coldly, as though recounting the countless streams of blood it had once drunk.

Suddenly, Xiao Zhentian stopped as if struck by an invisible bolt of lightning. His entire body tensed in an instant, as though facing a formidable enemy. The Martial Path Cultivators behind him were startled by his abrupt movement and stopped as well, confusion and unease rapidly spreading through the group.

Xiao Zhentian's face turned paper-white. Beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down his forehead and dripped onto the scorching sand, instantly evaporating into steam. His hands moved rapidly, forming a string of complicated, mysterious seals. Then a mouthful of vital blood spurted from his lips, transforming into a crimson male eagle that beat its wings and flew into the distance.

"No! That's impossible!" Xiao