With Scarface, the Stronghold Master, having his head blown apart by one of Mo Hua's Fireball Techniques, the filthy bandit stronghold in Jieji Prefecture had finally been wiped clean.
Mo Hua hurled a few more fireballs around him.
Dark flames leaped skyward and spread swiftly, burning the entire stronghold, its hundred-odd corpses, and all its sins to ash.
Firelight blazed into the sky, stark against the night.
The stench of charred flesh drifted through the mountains on the wind.
At the foot of Jieji Mountain, in a mountain village.
The impoverished Rogue Cultivators who had gone to sleep with their hearts in their throats caught a faint whiff of rot. Startled awake, they looked up to see blood-red firelight on the horizon, their faces filled with shock and fear.
"Have the bandits come to kill again?"
"Quick, grab the children."
"Women, into the cellar..."
"Men, come with me..."
Anxious cries filled the village. After a long spell of frantic bustle, they realized that although firelight glowed on the horizon, nothing was amiss around the village.
"The bandits... haven't come?"
Someone looked bewildered.
The villagers gazed toward the sky. After a moment, someone murmured in disbelief:
"Could it be... the bandits... were killed...?"
They exchanged looks.
They wanted to go into the mountains to see what had happened, but the bandits' brutality frightened them. Unease gnawed at their hearts.
Three days later, a hunter who often roamed the mountains worked up the nerve to sneak up there. He came back half a day later, trembling with excitement and gesturing wildly with both hands:
"Dead!"
"All dead!"
"A dozen or so died along the road. The fire burned them so badly there wasn't a whole corpse left."
"The whole stronghold was burned to ash. Every last beast inside is dead! Vultures are