Qingzhou. Night fell.
Li Tianqing walked on the streets of Qingzhou, a small courtyard appearing behind the back of his head.
All around were terrified people fleeing in all directions, crying and screaming endlessly.
A few days prior, towering ghosts and deities had appeared outside Qingzhou City, along with ghosts eating people, and even underworld emissaries steering boats to dock by the river to lock up and seize ghost souls. This had long since plunged the people of Qingzhou into panic.
Qingzhou Governor Liu Dingchen led the prefectural soldiers to charge toward the city gates. Other officials in the city either fled or hid, and Qingzhou's internal administration had long since fallen into complete chaos; the prefectural soldiers in his hands had also fled until only fifty or sixty percent remained.
He wanted to flee too, but he didn't dare.
He was afraid of the Red Horse Bandit.
In the past, the Red Horse Bandit had cut down Qingzhou's corrupt officials and greedy gentry as easily as slicing melons and vegetables, slaughtering them until the official circles of Qingzhou ran red with blood. The officials had been almost entirely replaced, and only he had escaped being cut down by the Red Horse Bandit because his official record was considered relatively clean.
Ever since then, the people of Qingzhou had made offerings to the Red Horse Bandit, building temples for the Red Horse Bandit and offering incense.
If he fled, he worried the Red Horse Bandit would track him down and split him apart with a single blade.
What was more, the sun was the sun of the entire Western Ox Continent. With the sun extinguished, other places were likely just like Qingzhou.
Even if not for the people of Qingzhou, he had to fight to carve out a living hell