Return the gods to the people

He drew a breath and let out a shout. One slash.

From the looks of it, the slash before King of Mingzhou Yang Gong's tent hadn't seemed particularly impressive. His men had simply torn down a temple and dragged out a clay statue of a god.

They hadn't even read the words on its spirit tablet before pointing at the statue's nose and cursing it. Then, with a sweep of his hand, Yang Gong summoned an old farmer from who knew where. The man raised a heavy, re-forged executioner's blade.

He aimed at the statue, its expression stiff and its only response a foolish grin, and brought the blade down hard.

"Thwack!"

The heavy statue's head hit the ground, leaving a shallow mark and scattering a little snow.

Nothing else happened.

The soldiers watching the slash felt the backs of their necks turn cold. Some shrank back. They had seen people worship gods, pray to gods, and make offerings to gods—but they had never seen anyone scold a god, much less behead one.

As far as they knew, this was the sort of thing that brought divine retribution...

"Wuu..."

And just as they'd expected, the moment the clay head hit the ground, everything around them seemed to fall silent. Even the sound of the wind and snow faded.

Just as they began to think nothing would happen, a gale suddenly sprang up, raging and pressing in from every direction. Their vision darkened in waves, as though countless monstrous shadows were baring their claws and fangs at them.

A blade had struck a god's statue. Ghosts and gods alike were enraged.

And this was a mere mortal of humble fate, striking down a god. He wasn't even from the Talisman Suppression Mansion...

"This is bad..."

Even the soldiers around them were