Hearing Han Yanrou's words, Xu Zimo fell silent.
She had probably grown up amid mockery over her appearance.
That was why she had been so excited and happy when he did not find her repulsive.
"Then... we're friends now, right?" Han Yanrou asked cautiously.
"Of course we are." Xu Zimo smiled and nodded.
"Actually, I think you look much better than those ugly freaks."
"Let me show you something." Han Yanrou covered her mouth and chuckled, then carefully took an illustrated book from her pocket.
Xu Zimo accepted the book and froze for a moment.
He did not know who had drawn it, but its contents depicted the great battle between the Holy Lord and the Blood Clan at the end of the Mythological Era.
The Holy Lord held the True God Sword, sword intent shrouding his entire body.
Beneath the longsword, three thousand miles of roads, clouds, and moonlight were all crushed beneath his feet.
His figure was towering and majestic, leaving only his back in view—shouldering the heavens, trampling the earth beneath his feet.
Behind him lay countless Blood Clan members prostrating themselves on the ground.
"Where did you get this?" Xu Zimo asked.
"I picked it up on the mountain before," Han Yanrou replied.
"Look at this man. Isn't he like me, with a Bloodline Ancestral Return?"
Xu Zimo felt that the two of them seemed to be focusing on entirely different things.
In his eyes, this was history—the Holy Lord suppressing the Blood Clan.
But in Han Yanrou's eyes, she merely seemed delighted to have found another "kindred spirit."
"Do you want to go to my hometown?" Xu Zimo looked at her and asked.
"There are many, many people there who are just like you. No one will laugh at you anymore.
"With your appearance, you