Ye Liuyun found it hard to believe that the First-Star Bandits, operating so far from the desolate Desolate Sea world, could have actually located a genuine treasure vault. According to the local martial cultivators, even top-tier powerhouses struggled to sniff out buried riches.

So he took the chance to pry information out of Liu Yan. The man obeyed Li Qingyang’s every order, yet—unless Li Qingyang had specifically warned him—he never hid anything from Ye Liuyun.

“You obviously don’t know the whole story,” Liu Yan replied with a grin, sending a silent voice transmission. “Our chief, the deputy heads, and our boss all hail from the Fire-Seal Galaxy. They once explored the Desolate Sea together, uncovered tons of resources, and—jackpot—stumbled onto the vault. Only after that did they set up our bandit crew back home.

“They never expected to get their hands on the vault’s key, though. Relax—our boss and the others have been inside before; they know every trap waiting for us.”

Liu Yan only revealed this to stop Ye Liuyan from getting cold feet after listening to the locals’ scare stories.

“So that’s how it is,” Ye Liuyun acknowledged.

He pressed on: “Then the chief and the rest must be at least Seventh- or Eighth-layer Unity, right?”

Liu Yan answered at once: “I asked our boss the same thing. He said back then they had stronger experts leading the party, but those big shots turned on each other; our guys slipped out in the chaos.”

Ye Liuyun couldn’t be bothered to dig into ancient history. He simply sensed that Chang Yuxing, Li Qingyang and company were hiding far more power than they let on.

He still had no clear read on their full strength. Every flying boat carried masking arrays; he couldn’t see through them. He hadn’t even seen Li Qingyang’s clone yet, so the man’s exact cultivation remained anyone’s guess.

Liu Yan added, “Newcomers like you wouldn’t know, but most famous names back home—including the heads of the Dragon-Head Bandits—originally came from Fire-Seal Galaxy.”

Ye Liuyun nodded; the two galaxies were close neighbors, so it made sense for powerhouses to cross over and carve out turf.

They ate while they talked, mostly letting Liu Yan pump the locals about the Desolate Sea world. When the meal ended they skipped further sightseeing—Liu Yan feared trouble for Ye Liyun’s group, and Ye Liuyun feared discovery by local experts—so they returned to the boats at once.

The other bandits, equally spooked by the high-level cultivators around, finished their own supply runs, grabbed a quick bite, and hurried back on board. Two or three hours later the whole flotilla weighed anchor again.

Still a month out from the Desolate Sea, Ye Liuyun led his men into cultivation once more. He planned to condense his Mystic Origin again before breaking through the next minor realm.

Tang Xinyao and the others had advanced under his cover without drawing Liu Yan’s notice; his own breakthrough should pass just as smoothly.

Yet before the fleet had sailed long, Liu Yan burst in with a warning: stay alert. Ye Liuyun left his pocket world at once to check.

A raid alert from Li Qingyang had just come in.

Two wyverns had already entered the formation—both Sixth-layer Unity. Ye Liuyun’s sensitivity to Heaven-Earth force had sharpened: he could faintly feel two swirling vortices of power around the beasts.

He opened his Golden Pupils and spotted indistinct human silhouettes cocooned inside those vortices.

“Two experts strong in Heaven-Earth force—but not yet Wuying’s level, or I’d never have sensed them. Someone’s actually trying to rob a bandit fleet? Who’s the real outlaw here?”

He kept the discovery to himself and watched to see how Li Qingyang would react.

This time Li Qingyang stayed in his boat; instead, two cultivators stepped out of another vessel. One, an ax-wielding burly man who looked like a woodcutter, was Sixth-layer Unity—Deputy Head Gu Changfeng, Liu Yan whispered.

The other, an old man wrapped in Heaven-Earth force no weaker than Wuying’s, stood at Seventh-layer Unity.

“Who’s the elder?” Ye Liuyun was more interested in him; Gu Changfeng’s condensed true essence, while impressive, didn’t match the old man’s enviable command of Heaven-Earth force.

“No idea,” Liu Yan admitted. “Probably hired help.”

The old man cupped his hands toward the riders on the wyverns. “Honored guests of the Cold clan, I presume?”

“Oh? You recognize us?” a young woman’s voice drifted down.

The pair dissolved their cloaking force and showed themselves—two youths who looked barely eighteen or nineteen, yet radiated Sixth-layer Unity power.

Ye Liuyun blinked. “Kids here hit that level so young?”

“Can’t be,” Liu Yan muttered. “They’re masking their real age.”

The old man, still courteous, said, “So it truly is Senior Qingxiao and Senior Qingyao. The moment I saw your wyverns I suspected.”

“Told you they’re older than they look,” Ye Liuyun murmured.

“Boring,” the girl pouted, annoyed at being seen through.

Her companion cut straight to business: “Since you know us, you know the rules.”

“Of course.” The elder flicked a Interspatial Ring over.

The man scanned it, conferred silently with the girl, and—without another word—spurred his wyvern out of the fleet and vanished.

“Cocky brats,” bandits muttered. “Take the loot and don’t even grunt.”

“We just got robbed,” Ye Liuyun said, half-laughing, half-sighing.

Li Qingyang’s voice drifted from behind: “Cold Qingxiao and Cold Qingyao. They specialize in shaking down off-galaxy travelers. Their clan’s got Eighth-layer Unity elders. Be grateful they only took a toll—if we were fewer, they’d strip us clean.”

No one argued; might made right. Gu Changfeng and the hired elder returned to their boats, and the fleet resumed its course.