Late Southern Song Dynasty

"However, entering a Small World can only give a rough estimate of its power level based on the size of the light spot. No one knows if a method for cultivating the spirit can be found in a Small World. If there is, that's good, but if not..."

In his mind, there were thousands of light spots, each representing a world. Within each was his other self, which could also be called a clone.

The reason he could travel through these worlds was by locating these other selves.

"Regardless, let's go in first. Even if I don't find a method for spiritual cultivation, killing my other self can still enhance my foundation."

With a thought, his entire being vanished.

"Run, hurry and run! It'll be safe once we reach Xiangyang."

A gaunt old man in ragged clothes, his body hunched, tightly clutched his thin clothing, protecting a two-year-old child bundled inside.

The child was tied to his chest with a cloth strip, and the old man also dragged a makeshift sled made of thorny branches tied to his waist, carrying dozens of pounds of firewood.

Under the heavy snow, he walked forward step by step. With each step, the snow reached above his knees, making progress incredibly difficult.

This wasn't just an isolated case. Behind the old man, hundreds of others, also in rags and shivering, walked sparsely.

Under the biting cold wind, people would occasionally fall and never get up again.

The roadside was littered with corpses, stiffer than iron. Those still alive showed no surprise at these bodies; their eyes were numb, devoid of any emotion. For them, this was already commonplace.

Hee-haw~

The neighing of a large horse sounded from a distance. The faces of the walking commoners showed fear, and they screamed and scattered in all directions, as if some demons or monsters were behind them.

In an instant, dozens of soldiers riding tall horses, wearing armor, and wielding scimitars, came roaring.

These soldiers were imposing, broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, with deep-set eyes. Under their helmets, braided hair could be seen.

"It's the Tartar cavalry, run, run!"

"Don't kill me, don't kill me."

"Dad, Mom, where are you?"

"Wuwu, save me, save me."

Hundreds of refugees were like lambs to the slaughter under the dozens of Tartar cavalry. Their souls returned to heaven and earth under the scimitars, without even a chance to resist.

Suddenly, one of the Tartar cavalry seemed to see something terrifying and subconsciously swung the scimitar in his hand.

Bang~

With a muffled sound, the head instantly exploded like a watermelon, and the headless body fell from the horse into the snow.

Fang Xuan's figure appeared in place, his hands still stained with a little blood.

This scene naturally startled the other cavalry, who roared and spurred their horses towards Fang Xuan to kill him.

They shouted in a language he didn't understand.

With the momentum of the horses, the scimitars in their hands shone with a cold light under the sun.

Fang Xuan sneered disdainfully, stomping his right foot fiercely on the ground. The accumulated snow beneath his feet instantly exploded, splashing outwards and forming a large pit. He himself disappeared like lightning.

Bang bang bang~

Bang bang bang~

Bang bang bang~

In an instant, all the cavalry were killed. Their sturdy armor could not withstand the unparalleled monstrous strength. Their chests were caved in, and blood flowed from their seven orifices.

Fang Xuan ignored the refugees kneeling on the ground and kowtowing incessantly. He patted a horse's rump and mounted it, riding towards the north.

"Southern Song, Mongol Yuan, the late Southern Song!" Fang Xuan sighed softly.

After entering this Small World, Fang Xuan determined the direction through the connection between himself and his other self and kept traveling.

Along the way, he naturally saw the tragic plight of a dynasty in its twilight years.

This place was located in the Yangtze River basin, within the territory of the Great Song. Those refugees were residents of the Great Song, forced to migrate south due to natural disasters and man-made calamities. As for those cavalry, they were the Mongol Yuan cavalry who had already annihilated the Liao and Jin dynasties.

"It seems this time, besides my other self, I've come back empty-handed," Fang Xuan said regretfully.

Fang Xuan had been in this world for several days and had not seen any extraordinary power; they were all just ordinary people. He presumed it was truly just an ordinary Small World.

"Giddy up~"

He rode north on horseback, occasionally seeing refugees fleeing south and Mongol Yuan soldiers wantonly slaughtering.

Fang Xuan never held back against these soldiers. His physical body, at the Divine Courage Realm with the strength of thirteen horses, was simply like an overlord reborn, unstoppable by anyone.

"Old man, what place is ahead?" Fang Xuan asked a refugee elder.

"Replying, Great Hero, ahead is Zhang Family Fortress. Great Hero should hurry and escape. Zhang Family Fortress has been breached, and those Tartars are inhumane, wantonly slaughtering," the old man advised.

"Thank you, old man."

After speaking, he completely disregarded his advice and continued towards the location of Zhang Family Fortress.

"Alas, this damned world, when will it end!" the old man sighed.

Fang Xuan could already feel his other self getting closer, especially upon hearing about the Mongol Yuan army's rampage ahead, he felt a surge of anxiety. If his other self were killed by someone else, he would have come all this way for nothing.

"Giddy up~"

Before long, they arrived at a castle. Calling it a castle was a bit of an exaggeration; it looked more like a small fortress built of brick and stone.

However, this fortress had clearly been breached. Mongol Yuan soldiers, holding their curved sabers, were slaughtering indiscriminately. The entire fortress was in chaos, filled with screams and the stench of blood, a scene of endless killing and sin.

Fang Xuan's gaze quickly locked onto a scholar in green robes. The scholar's face was pale, and he trembled all over under the threat of swords and blades.

He was protecting a seven or eight-year-old girl in his arms, holding a long sword, but he had no strength to fight back.

The reason he had been able to survive this long in the chaos was the protection of the two men in their thirties in front of him.

One of the men held a saber, the other a sword. The sword techniques were sharp, and the saber techniques were heavy.

"Third Brother, protect the young master and young lady well. You must get them out," Zhang Jie said with a booming voice after cutting down an attacking soldier with his saber.

"Okay."

"Kill!"

Zhang Jie leaped, his body seemingly weightless, floating several meters away. He slashed with his long saber, and with a sharp whistle, a gust of wind tore through the air.

Clang~

A deafening clash of metal rang out, and the long saber in Zhang Jie's hand was almost knocked away.

The Mongol Yuan thousand-man commander, clad in armor and holding a curved saber, raised his head, his face full of ferocious expression, and said in broken Chinese, "Song man, your opponent is me."

"Damn Tatar, take this saber!" Zhang Jie roared.

Zhang Jie twisted his body in mid-air, using the strength of his waist and limbs to slash at the Mongol Yuan thousand-man commander's neck.

This technique was simple, the force was powerful, and it was even more fierce than before.

The Mongol Yuan thousand-man commander was not to be outdone, and he also raised his curved saber to meet the blow.

Clang~

A piercing sound vibrated between their ears. Zhang Jie was sent flying backward, spitting out a mouthful of blood, his face turning as pale as paper.

"Second Brother!"

Zhang Zhen cried out in alarm and quickly stepped forward to catch Zhang Jie.

"Run, don't worry about me, quickly take the young master and young lady away from here."