“This chaotic land where various clans vie for dominance suits me well,” Shi Hao murmured to himself.
Suddenly, wisps of blue flames erupted from the ground without warning, flickering with eerie light—scorching yet uncanny—reducing a pile of corpses to ashes in moments.
Shi Hao’s pupils contracted. At last, he understood why this place was called Fire Province.
Even on ordinary days, strange flames would occasionally surge from beneath the earth, often linked to the deaths of living beings or the emergence of divine materials, carrying an air of mystery.
Of course, it wasn’t always so straightforward. Unexplained phenomena could occur, even causing living deities to spontaneously combust.
“Truly bizarre,” Shi Hao mused. He reached out to touch the flames, but they merely swept past him, incinerating the corpses before vanishing back into the earth.
Originally, he had planned to find a secluded place to recover from his injuries, but now he felt it unwise. He needed to locate a populated area—locals would surely know which regions were safe.
Following the information he had extracted from a dying bandit, Shi Hao headed east toward a renowned city in these grasslands.
Along the way, he passed barren patches of land—abandoned mining pits that had once yielded divine materials but had long been exhausted by major sects.
“Hey, young man, are you prospecting alone? That’s dangerous,” an elderly man emerged from the grassy hills, his cultivation evidently profound.
Fire Province was rich in divine metals, attracting many rogue cultivators who came to scavenge, earning them the nickname “prospectors.”
For safety, Shi Hao had suppressed his aura to the Array Formation realm to avoid drawing attention. He smiled and asked the old man how much farther it was to Fufeng City.
The elder was kind and eager to help. “This place is plagued by bandits and sect conflicts over mines. It’s chaotic and perilous—be careful.”
“Thank you, elder. There’s no need to accompany me; I’ll manage on my own,” Shi Hao said.
The old man chuckled warmly. “No trouble at all. I’ve nothing better to do and was planning to head that way myself.”
Not long after, a mountain ridge loomed ahead. A figure descended swiftly, blocking their path.
“Old Mo, your efficiency is slipping. Only two slaves today? The divine mines are desperate for laborers—the more, the better,” the newcomer remarked.
Shi Hao was stunned. He turned to the old man—was this a human trafficker? His goodwill vanished in an instant, replaced by icy disdain.
“Young friend, traveling alone in these grasslands is perilous. You could be devoured by sky wolves or slain by bandits. Forget prospecting—I’ve found you a fine job,” the old man said with a grin.
As he spoke, he accepted a thumb-sized divine material from the other man as payment and prepared to leave.
“You wretched old man!” Shi Hao spun toward him.
“Stay where you are!” The man behind him lashed out with a whip wreathed in flames—a divine artifact that transformed into a flood dragon, coiling around Shi Hao.
Though the man’s cultivation was only at the Noble King realm, his weapon was formidable, clearly designed to subdue slaves.
Shi Hao activated the “Shrinking Earth to an Inch” technique, vanishing from sight and reappearing behind the man. With a sharp twist, he snapped his neck and seized the divine fire whip.
With a crack, he lashed it toward the old man.
“Oh? Quite the trick. I misjudged you—you’re no ordinary Noble King,” the slaver remarked, his body igniting as he lunged at Shi Hao.
At the same time, he shouted toward the ridge, “Black Eagle! Get down here! We’ve got a problem—today’s catch is a tough one.”
A figure with black wings and a human body swooped down—a black eagle spirit.
Shi Hao’s divine sense swept the area. These two were the strongest here, at the Divine Flame realm—the rest were negligible.
He moved swiftly, his body glowing as an inexplicable force nullified all incoming attacks.
“Gah!”
The black eagle’s chest was pierced by a single punch. The youth’s physical prowess was terrifying.
“You—how can you nullify divine arts?!” The slaver paled, scrambling backward.
“Thud!”
Shi Hao’s leg swept out like a dragon’s tail, sending the man flying, his body splitting apart midair.
An hour later, Shi Hao departed, having confiscated some Blue Spirit Gold—a decent divine material—and reduced the area to ashes.
Half an hour later, a massive city came into view. Fufeng City.
The towering walls were inscribed with formations, forged from black metal, imposing and grand.
“Stop, you fraud! This treasure is useless!”
The moment Shi Hao entered the gates, he saw two cultivators chasing each other, both bleeding from wounds.
He frowned. How could it be so lawless?
Not far ahead, another brawl erupted. A head rolled, blood spurting high as the headless corpse collapsed nearby.
Shi Hao was stunned. Fufeng City was truly chaotic—two violent incidents already, and no one intervened.
The onlookers remained calm, offering only casual remarks. Clearly, such events were commonplace.
“Brother, need spirit herbs? I’ve got a rare one here,” a man whispered, approaching Shi Hao.
He looked like a simple farmer, sleeves rolled up, mud on his boots—as if he’d just returned from gathering herbs.
“Why not sell it to an alchemy hall?” Shi Hao asked.
The man’s eyes reddened. “This city is full of bandits and scoundrels. Last time I brought a rare herb, they claimed it was ordinary and paid me pennies.”
Shi Hao felt a pang of sympathy.
“Come, I’ll show you. I dug this up from ruins—it’s extraordinary,” the man said, leading Shi Hao to a corner and revealing a pouch.
A medicinal fragrance burst forth, accompanied by silvery moonlight-like radiance.
Shi Hao’s heart raced. This was the legendary Snow Moon Saint Herb!
The fist-sized blossom was pristine, exhaling mist like a suspended snow moon, its aroma invigorating.
“Hey, is that a rare herb?” Someone nearby sniffed the air, eyeing them.
“Well? Interested?” the man asked, hope in his eyes.
Shi Hao was astonished. A saint herb on the streets? Unbelievable luck.
“Let me see again.” This time, Shi Hao activated his dual-pupils. His expression darkened.
The herb was a near-perfect fake—even alchemists could be fooled.
“Sell it to them,” Shi Hao said, turning away.
From now on, he’d trust no one in this lawless land.
The man gaped. The others stiffened.
“Here’s a saint herb. Take it—I can’t afford it,” Shi Hao said with a naive smile before slipping away.
“Those are the Golden Herb Hall scammers at it again,” someone muttered.
“Thief! Stop him!” A commotion erupted as a man chased another through the streets.
Shi Hao sidestepped, slapping away a hand that had been probing his belongings with a theft technique.
“Curses! My herb pouch is gone!”
“Damn it! My flood dragon bone bracer!”
Shi Hao was speechless. The thief was a Divine Flame realm expert—yet here he was, pickpocketing.
The entire city was a den of eccentricity and vice.
As Shi Hao ventured deeper, the chaos only intensified—utterly lawless.
“Boom!”
Thunderous hoofbeats shook the sky, making hearts pound as if drums were beating within chests.
Two crimson dragons descended, their majestic presence overwhelming. They landed, transforming into towering steeds—flawless, blood-red stallions.
Gasps filled the air.
“Divine Cliff Academy’s Crimson Dragon Steeds!”
“Only four or five exist in the world—and two appear today?”
These steeds bore dragon blood, descendants of true dragons—supreme mounts exclusive to Divine Cliff Academy.
The academy, located in Fire Province, was among the world’s top sects, built upon ancient cliffs said to be the meditation caves of immortals.
Their Blood Dragon Pool bred these steeds, coveted by all cultivators.
Upon the steeds sat a man and a woman.
The man was tall and imposing, clad in crimson-gold armor like a war god, radiating authority.
The woman was equally striking—purple-haired, with phoenix eyes, her armor gleaming. A battle-ready beauty, more valkyrie than damsel.
These were Divine Cliff Academy’s peerless geniuses.
Shi Hao sensed their extraordinary auras—primordial true blood flowed within them. True prodigies.
But what truly caught his attention was a familiar face among the crowd—a woman concealed in disguise, her flawless beauty like that of a moon goddess.
(Note: The translation maintains the original’s fantastical tone while ensuring clarity and flow. Key terms like “Divine Cliff Academy” and “Crimson Dragon Steeds” preserve the grandeur of the setting. The dialogue reflects the characters’ personalities—Shi Hao’s wariness, the slaver’s deceit, and the city’s chaotic vibe.)
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