"Put it down, put it down, everyone relax, why so tense? We're all family here!" Blind Old Joe hopped around, trying to liven up the mood, waving away all the drawn bows and crossbows. He pointed at his own eyes: "Remember me? It's me, Blind Old Joe! I was the one who took you to the Holy Mountain back then!"
"Of course I remember. We traveled together, and you looked out for me more than once. I appreciate it." The young man showed no surprise—he'd already figured out Blind Old Joe's identity. But so what? Time changes everything. The Blind Elder from the past is now a notorious bandit. Who knows if his personality has changed, too?
At the very least, he knew exactly what kind of people these South Wasteland Sand Thieves were.
The young man's expression remained gentle and calm, but King Gamble Charles Sterling couldn't relax at all. Blind Old Joe, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to the tension, slapping King Gamble's shoulder: "Hey, hey, loosen up! We're all brothers here! You always think you're the top dog, but now you see how awesome my brother is, right? Hey, Brother Yang, what a coincidence—never thought I'd run into you here!"
All the bows and crossbows were put away, but the young man stayed calm and unmoved. He didn't need to watch anyone's performance—he simply nodded, expressionless: "Indeed. I didn't expect you to become a Sand Thief king. I haven't even congratulated you yet."
"Sand Thief king? Nah, it's just how things turned out. At first, I was just flipping goods like a small-time hustler, but then I kept seeing things I couldn't stand, so I stepped in. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I'd wiped out all the Sand Thieves—never saw that coming! Oh, and about that Evil Slave Gang, they're up to no good, so we're planning to take them out. Just now, we were worried about heavy losses, but you helped us out big time. Truly, we're all family here!" Blind Old Joe waved his hand. "Alright, back to work, everyone—move along!"
The troops stood down, and dozens of sand skiffs sped toward Flying Sand Market. The young man's eyes flicked over the scene, watching them rescue a large group of people from the market. The rescued folks were ragged, bruised, and had clearly suffered plenty. Some cried out loud, but you could tell it was the kind of tears you shed after being saved—relief mixed with leftover fear.
The young man finally relaxed a little.
He knew all too well what kind of people the South Wasteland Sand Thieves were and how they operated. If he hadn't recognized Blind Old Joe from the start and decided to give him a chance, he would've already grabbed one to stuff under the sand skiff to even out the load. And if he picked the wrong one? Oh well, just pull them out later—he had enough confidence to pull off stunts like that these days.
Now, it seemed like this 'Jade Demoness' was worth keeping an eye on—she wasn't quite like the usual Sand Thieves.
As the young man relaxed, King Gamble Charles Sterling finally let his guard down a little. The young man always looked gentle on the surface, but that 'pure and warm' smile of his was downright creepy. Now that the tension had eased, King Gamble felt his head buzzing—he couldn't hold out any longer.
Blind Old Joe seemed totally oblivious, shouting like an old friend: "Oh right, you showed up just in time! With you here, we're saved!"
Saved?
Saved from what?
"It's that Little Devil Star!"
Little Devil Star?
Wait a second—does that mean... The young man's aura finally fluctuated. He slapped the side of the skiff, and both beasts and the cushion sprang into action, launching the old cart up onto the high deck in one smooth leap. With no time to react, the young man leaned forward, his long black hair cascading down, and gently placed a hand on Blind Old Joe's shoulder. Unhurriedly, he asked, "What do you mean by 'saved'? What happened to Lydia Grace?"
An overwhelming aura swept through, momentarily stunning Blind Old Joe. But the young man sensed something and turned to look deeper into the sand skiff.
This flagship sand skiff was much larger than the one they'd used for treasure hunts before—it was practically a dragon boat. Three full decks of luxurious cabins and rooms, and deep inside, a strange aura appeared in his senses. Before long, even Rainblade King looked up, sensing it too.
Creak, creak, creak—doors swung open, revealing a wide road straight to the heart of the ship. With a squeak, Phantom Shade Master peeked out from behind the old cart, his expression turning odd. Deep inside the cabins, a grand and imposing carriage appeared. Eight strongmen lifted the carriage on their shoulders, while four beautiful maids held up the canopy and fanned from behind. Compared to their shabby old cart, it was like a budget EV meeting a Maybach.
The strongmen carried the carriage forward in perfect step, keeping it steady. Seated on the carriage was a figure draped in a grand cloak, covered in jade, and wearing a fierce, demonic jade mask. Their aura surged all around—one side icy cold with snow swirling, the other hot as a desert. The mask itself was half warm jade, half cold jade, making the whole scene look eerie, powerful, and impressive.
Well, well, this is interesting—one driver running into another?
Phantom Shade Master had a subtle reaction, but quickly hid it. No matter how fancy the carriage, it was all for show. Eight matching strongmen? Please, it's not like our crew hasn't seen things. The master standing in front of me is the real deal—would he envy a bit of flashy junk?
But unexpectedly, the young man actually showed some interest.
"Nice ride."
Huh? Is he actually impressed?
No, no, something's off. This master is unpredictable; when he compliments someone, you have to read it backwards—the higher the praise, the worse the fate. Saying 'nice ride' could mean anything. Besides, with people like this, Phantom Shade Master decided it was best not to overthink and just stick to being the cart-pusher.
Anyway, someone else would stir things up soon enough.
"That's the Jade Demoness," Phantom Shade Master whispered, then glanced at Rainblade King.
Rainblade King's pride was at an all-time high. Crawling on the ground, he couldn't stand anyone being higher than him. Sure enough, when he saw the grand carriage approaching, his eyes widened and the Featherblade at his waist hummed. Uncontrollable, wild sword energy surged inside the sheath, blowing his messy hair aside to reveal a face twisted and fierce as a demon.
Boom! The eight strongmen felt as if thunder crashed in their minds, seeing visions of their heads flying off, blood spraying across the sand, and bodies torn apart.
"What?" King Gamble exclaimed in surprise. "A Simulated Heavenly King Phenomenon?!"
In the depths of humiliation and excitement, Rainblade King showed signs of breaking through to the Heavenly King level. Having a Simulated Heavenly King Phenomenon meant he was already half a step there—just one more push, and he'd be a true Heavenly King.