Chapter 132: Returning to the Snake-People Tribe

Old Ye, who had been fast asleep, was jolted awake by a series of grunting sounds. He opened his eyes, only to be met with the blinding, harsh sunlight unique to the desert. He squinted, and once his eyes adjusted, he saw Lu Zhe drenched in sweat, training outside the tree.

Lu Zhe was shirtless, practicing with a heavy iron mace. It was likely still morning, but the temperature in the vast desert was already stifling. Beads of sweat as large as peas rolled down his forehead like broken pearls, carving trails through the grime on his skin. Under the brilliant glare of the sun, Lu Zhe’s sweat-slicked body shimmered.

"How long have you been at it?" Old Ye asked, watching Lu Zhe, who continued to swing the iron mace despite being soaked to the bone.

Hearing Old Ye, Lu Zhe stopped. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hand and flicked it onto the scorching yellow sand, which hissed as the droplets evaporated instantly. Turning back to Old Ye, Lu Zhe said, "Master, you're awake. I've been practicing for about an hour, I suppose."

Old Ye nodded, stood up, and brushed the sand from his clothes. "You've been at it for quite a while. How do you feel?"

Lu Zhe rolled his eyes, pondered for a moment, and replied, "It’s still quite strenuous, but it's much better than when I started. I can manage a hundred or two swings now without any issues."

"Then continue your practice," Old Ye said flatly.

Lu Zhe nodded and resumed the rhythmic swinging of the mace, his body growing even oilier with sweat.

After another hour or so, Lu Zhe drove the iron mace into the ground and walked into the shade of the tree. He used his clothes to wipe the sweat from his body and forehead, pulled a jar of water from his storage ring, gulped down a large portion, and poured the rest over his face.

The clear water flowed down his skin, mingling with the sweat and making his body glisten even more. Lu Zhe looked down at his hands; they were covered in blisters from the excessive swinging of the incredibly heavy mace, and a dull, throbbing pain radiated from them.

Clenching his fists, he took a small white bottle from his storage ring. He uncorked it and tipped a milky liquid onto his palms. After stowing the bottle, he rubbed his hands together until the liquid was evenly applied.

Almost immediately, the pain in his hands subsided significantly. This was an ointment he had concocted based on a prescription from the Medical Elder, specifically for treating bruises and external injuries. While it couldn't heal wounds instantly, it was excellent at dulling pain and accelerating recovery.

Seeing Lu Zhe’s practiced application, Old Ye looked surprised. A hint of astonishment colored his voice as he remarked, "Heh, you brat, you actually learned a thing or two from that old fool, the Medical Elder."

Lu Zhe chuckled, looking a bit smug. "Of course. After all, your disciple here is now a two-cauldron bronze-ranked alchemist."

Old Ye tapped Lu Zhe on the head with his bamboo staff, laughing and scolding, "Don't get cocky just because I gave you a little praise. Remember, never be arrogant, no matter when or where. Understand?"

Lu Zhe chuckled, rubbed his head, and nodded.

A flash of amusement crossed Old Ye’s eyes, but just as he was about to speak, his expression shifted abruptly. He whipped his head to the right, his eyes locked on the spot where Lu Zhe had been training just moments before. "Who goes there?" he demanded in a loud, sharp voice.

Old Ye’s sudden outburst startled Lu Zhe. He turned to look in that direction, but saw nothing but yellow sand and his iron mace planted in the ground. He wondered what Old Ye was talking about.

*Rustle, rustle.* Just as Lu Zhe was feeling puzzled, he heard the sound of shifting sand. Before he could say anything, Old Ye moved like lightning, taking a few steps forward and slamming his right hand into the ground. With a thunderous roar, a patch of sand three yards away erupted like a fountain. It was a spectacular sight, and emerging amidst the flying sand were two figures.

The sand rained down as the two figures hit the ground with heavy thuds. Old Ye’s eyes glinted with cold light. He walked over, staring down at the two men groaning in pain, and asked coldly, "Who are you?"

Upon hearing his voice, the two men scrambled to their feet like mice spotting a cat, eyes locked warily on Old Ye and Lu Zhe. Lu Zhe observed them; they were both in their twenties, with strange, gaunt features and lanky builds—they didn't look like ordinary people.

"Speak," Old Ye commanded, his gaze fixed on them. "Who are you, and why were you spying on us from underground?"

The man on the left stared back at Old Ye. "You’ll find out if you can beat us," he spat, then lunged forward with a punch.

Old Ye remained calm, watching the ferocious man charge. He didn't budge. Just as the man’s fist was less than a foot away, Old Ye flicked his wrist. His green bamboo staff shot out like lightning, striking the man hard in the abdomen and sending him flying.

The man spat out a mouthful of blood, carved an arc through the air, and slammed into the sand, sliding a significant distance before coming to a stop. His companion rushed over, catching him in his arms. "Are you alright? Hang in there!"

The man coughed, spat more blood, and gripped his companion’s clothes with trembling hands. "That... that person is too... too strong. Don't... don't try to fight him. Run!" With that, his eyes rolled back, his head lolled to the side, and he went limp—he was dead.

The man holding him turned back to Old Ye, his eyes filled with a murderous glare that seemed to want to carve Old Ye into pieces.

Old Ye remained unmoved. "I’ll ask again. Who are you, and why did you ambush us?"

The man gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead in pure fury. After glaring at Old Ye for a moment, he suddenly kicked a spray of sand toward him and dived into the ground like a mole, vanishing instantly.

Old Ye swiped his hand to disperse the sand, watching the man escape. He narrowed his eyes, clearly frustrated but powerless to stop him.

Lu Zhe walked over to the dead man and examined him closely. Despite his strange appearance, he had the same features as a human. *How could he use the earth-burrowing technique?* Lu Zhe wondered. *Is he a practitioner of earth-attribute spiritual power? But to move so freely underground requires the strength of a Spirit Sovereign. He’s only in his twenties—that’s impossible. What is going on?*

Old Ye came over, leaned down to look at the corpse, and frowned as if he had discovered something. He used his bamboo staff to hook the man’s clothes, lifting them to reveal his skin.

Lu Zhe gasped. While the man’s body was lanky, it was otherwise human, except for the skin around his waist and groin—it was green, and instead of soft flesh, it was hard and scaly, like snakeskin.

"He’s a Snake-Man! No wonder he could burrow," Lu Zhe exclaimed in shock. Suddenly, everything made sense.

Old Ye nodded. "Indeed, a Snake-Man." His expression grew puzzled. "Why would Snake-Men appear here? And why were they spying on us?" He turned to Lu Zhe, his gaze full of suspicion. "Brat, did you do something?"

Lu Zhe shook his head vigorously. "I didn't do anything! I have no idea why they were spying on me."

"Oh? Is that so?" Old Ye clearly didn't believe him. He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Whatever shady business you’ve been up to, I’ve killed one of their kind now. They won't let this go. And that one who escaped—he’s likely already sent word. He’s seen our faces. This place is no longer safe; we must leave."

Lu Zhe gave a wry smile. "Leave? To where? This is the Snake-Men’s territory. I heard from the Medical Elder that they are the kings of this desert, one of the Thirty-Six Exotic Races and the leaders of the six great tribes here. We can’t outrun them in the sand."

Old Ye nodded, agreeing. He stroked his chin, thinking for a moment. "If we can't run, then let's go to their tribe. We’ll see if we can talk them into letting us go."

"Are you crazy?" Lu Zhe rejected the idea immediately. "You said yourself they’re vindictive. You killed one of them, and they won't let it slide. Plus, I have my own history with them—isn't this just walking straight into a trap?"

"History?" Old Ye paused. "What kind of history could you possibly have with them?"

Lu Zhe scratched his head, rubbing his index fingers together sheepishly. "When I was wandering this desert with the Medical Elder, we visited their tribe. We killed quite a few of them and... well, we stole a scroll that recorded their rare medicinal herbs."

Old Ye was so furious he could have exploded. "I was wondering why they were spying on us! It was your doing, you little brat!"

Lu Zhe just gave a bashful, awkward laugh.

Old Ye calmed himself down. "It's no use scolding you now. We’ve already offended them, so what’s a little more? But this is their turf. We can’t keep practicing while looking over our shoulders; if they sabotage your training, it’ll be a disaster. Fine, we’ll head to the Snake-Man tribe. We’ll see if we can resolve this peacefully."

"Huh?" Lu Zhe was stunned.

Old Ye looked at him, annoyed. "What are you afraid of? I’m here, aren't I?"

Lu Zhe nodded, though he was still hesitant. "I just hope you don't 'mysteriously disappear' on me. I can't take them on by myself."

Old Ye clapped him on the shoulder. "Stop your mumbling. Let’s go."

Lu Zhe nodded, picked up his iron mace, wrapped it in black cloth, slung it over his back, and followed Old Ye toward the Snake-Man tribe.