Chaos in Troubled Times

The scorching sun hung in the sky, and a long river, mostly dried up, stretched across the earth.

This place was located on the edge of Yunze Prefecture, bordering Danhe Prefecture.

A group of ragged people walked along the river, occasionally turning toward the riverbed to rummage through the silt for something.

As the distance closed, it became clear that these people were all displaced refugees who had drifted here along the way.

Most of them traveled along the river, where grass roots and tree bark could still be found on the banks. If they were lucky, they might even scavenge some dead fish or shrimp.

At noon, many refugees dozed in the shade of trees, hoping to wait until the sun's intensity faded before moving further ahead.

"Give it back, this fish is mine."

"Let go! If you keep pestering me, I'll beat you to death."

"Don't hit my mother, we don't want the fish anymore!" Cries from a woman and a child rang out from the riverbed.

Those slumped in the shade tilted their heads to look, discovering a man and a woman brawling in the mud over nothing more than a sun-dried, dead fish.

Among the two hundred people present, no one intervened; their expressions were numb, for they had seen such things far too often.

The young robbed the old, men robbed women, and the strong robbed the weak... In the end, those bullied the most were always the elderly, the weak, women, and children.

If it were a family or a group traveling together without any men, they would likely not survive the journey.

If a young beauty appeared, the outcome was even more tragic; such a family rarely made it far before being wiped out, leaving only the girl to be abducted.

In this current world, people were like beasts in the mountains and forests—the strong lived, and the weak died.

It wasn't that there had never been kind-hearted people, but apart from the few with formidable martial strength, the rest had long since become bleached bones by the roadside.

"My Master Liu is taking in six child servants; two meals a day, all you can eat!" At this moment, shouts drifted from the main road not far from the river.

"My Master Wang needs seven child servants; we leave as soon as we take them."

"My Master Yan needs eight this time, and there's a monthly wage of one qian of silver..."

The refugees looked up and saw a group of men dressed as household servants shouting, even beginning to curse at one another.

These servants were nothing but dogs for their masters, yet they still fought for face when out recruiting servants.

As for the children they took back, the boys with sturdy builds might become guards for the estate, while the girls with a bit of beauty might become bed-warmers.

As for the sickly, weak, or ugly ones, they would perform the filthiest and most menial labor, and it was common for them to be beaten to death by their masters.

Yet, despite this, for the refugees, it was still a path to survival.

"Let's go over quickly." Among the two hundred refugees, almost everyone with children rushed over.

On the riverbed, the mother and child who had been pushed into the silt also struggled to crawl out.

"One boy for four taels of silver, one girl for two." A servant opened the wooden cage on the cart.

The cage was only sparsely lined with dry grass, looking as if it were meant for livestock.

"We don't want silver, just exchange them for two bags of grain. Xiao Man, come here, you won't have to go hungry if you go with them," the woman said, moving to push her child toward the carriage.

"Look at my child, he's sturdy, big-boned, just a bit thin."

"Look at my child, a girl, one bag of grain is fine. Yingying, hurry up and get on..."

With over eighty refugees and the various servants, more than a hundred people were suddenly crowded there, their arguing incessant.

Under the shade of the trees, the remaining refugees were watching the spectacle when they suddenly felt a vibration in the heads they had been resting on the ground.

They turned their gazes one after another, and the next moment, every one of them was paralyzed with terror, their bodies subconsciously curling into balls.

"Giddyap, giddyap."

"Giddyap, giddyap, giddyap..."

Under the bright sun, a column of a hundred soldiers galloped wildly on horseback.

The entire troop moved as one entity, rising and falling in perfect unison, whipping up a howling gale.

The hundred Demon-Blood Steeds moved with astonishing momentum, almost leaping and landing in total synchronization.

Wherever they passed, the vegetation on both sides of the road danced wildly in the gale, and even clods of earth shattered.

At the rear of the troop was a chariot pulled by two horses; the curtains did not flutter in the wind but instead bulged outward on all sides.

If a martial artist were present, they would immediately see that there was an expert within the chariot who had reached the Five Viscera Realms—this was the manifestation of a martial artist's internal energy projecting outward.

The first three realms of martial arts involve refining internal energy, while the fourth great realm involves tempering the golden body and refining energy into gang.

The second great realm requires the martial artist to internally nourish the five viscera—heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys—only then can they withstand the powerful internal energy capable of leaving the body.

"Halt!" The leading soldier lashed his whip and shouted loudly.

The hundred riders behind him received the order and brought their charge to a stop in just two or three strides.

"Get out of the way, all of you! Clear the road!"

His shout was full of vigor, but the refugees, terrified that the servants might leave, were all busy pushing their children onto the carriages.

This roar not only failed to disperse the refugees, but instead caused them to clash with the servants—one side wanted to leave, while the other was desperate to have their children taken away.

The lead soldier did not shout a second time; a cruel smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned and walked toward the chariot at the rear of the troop.

"Captain Ma, there are ignorant, unruly commoners blocking the road ahead."

"Execute them. Why disturb my cultivation?" A man's indifferent voice drifted from within the carriage.

"There are quite a few of them! Some are from wealthy households."

"Wealthy? Without power or status, they are nothing but mongrel dogs who stumbled into some windfall. Just slaughter them all!"

"Understood." The smile on the lead soldier's lips grew wider.

He knew exactly what the result would be when reporting to Captain Ma; he only did so to shift the responsibility away from himself.

"We are under orders to slay demons. Those who block our path shall die!"

With a thunderous shout, over a hundred Demon-Blood Steeds charged forward, the soldiers atop them clad in iron armor and wielding long blades.

A torrent of iron surged across the main road; every one of them was a martial practitioner who had refined Qi into their marrow, possessing formidable physiques.

Opposite them were almost entirely emaciated refugees, and as for the twenty or so household guards, they had merely practiced some superficial techniques under their masters.

"Ah, ahhh..."

There was no suspense! Screams and wails immediately rang out across the road; those who wanted to flee had nowhere left to go.

Hidden in the shade of the trees below, the remaining refugees were paralyzed with terror, many of them weeping and wailing in fright on the spot.

That iron torrent was like a boulder grinding flesh; wherever it passed, corpses lay strewn about! Human bodies were trampled into pieces by the iron hooves!

Even after the soldiers had ridden far away, the hundred-odd refugees beneath the trees remained cowering, sitting frozen in place as if scared out of their wits.

By evening, the sky gradually darkened.

A gale rose, and in the blink of an eye, a torrential downpour began.

The refugees were frail and dared not be drenched by the heavy rain, so they all huddled under trees with large canopies to seek shelter.

Under the gloomy sky, another carriage approached along the main road.

This carriage did not look very large, and its curtains were fashioned from stitched-together animal hides, appearing to be the cart of a hunter.

On the driver's seat sat two hunters, an old man and a youth, both draped in straw rain capes.

"Whoa..." The old hunter suddenly brought the carriage to a halt.

The spot where they stopped was littered with corpses, a sight too gruesome to behold, blocking more than half of the road.

"Old Huang, people have died out there, haven't they? Just clear the road and let's quickly find a place to shelter from the rain." A man's gentle voice came from inside the carriage; he had already caught the scent of blood.

The old hunter shuddered at the sound, knowing it was the Second Master speaking.

The Second Master looked like a scholar, yet over the eight days they had been traveling, several groups of people had already been slaughtered by him.

The grandfather and grandson had never even seen how the Second Master made his move; they only saw vines and wood lashing out everywhere, and all the bandits or short-sighted fools blocking the road were turned into meat skewers.

"Yes, yes, I'll get us moving right away." Old Huang patted Little Fuzi beside him.

Little Fuzi had grown sturdy and strong, and he quickly jumped off the carriage to drag away the corpses blocking the path.

A moment later, the carriage vanished into the curtain of rain, leaving behind only the refugees struggling to survive in the downpour.