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The vast Great Desert, where the wind and sand rolled endlessly.
The cattle and sheep nibbled on the scant remaining pastures, while the nomads followed water and grass, their dwellings ever unsteady, all living within tents—even the Khan of the Great Desert did the same.
Within the camp tent, Murong Xuan sat in the place of honor, with the dark-faced burly man beside him being none other than the Khan.
At this moment, the faces of all present were clouded with worry, the once abundant bold songs and dances now nowhere to be seen.
"Does Xu Xuan truly possess spells?" asked the Khan of the Great Desert.
"Let's set aside whether he does or not. Xu Xuan alone challenging all the grandmasters in the world would be no problem. Even if Jin Lin and I were present at that time, we would still face an inevitable defeat," Murong Xuan said with certainty. Just the white snake in the sky was not something ordinary martial artists could handle.
