Mighty forces surged through the sky, thinning the Eerie Mist.
The battlefield where the Blood-Mouth Devil Child had fought Zhang Hongshou and his three companions had become a pitch-black crater, wisps of white smoke rising from it.
The houses around the crater had collapsed, forming a ring of rubble.
Two "carriages" that no one could see quietly sank into the ground.
Black Moon vanished into the night sky, the Eerie Mist once again blanketed heaven and earth, and the fighting stopped.
The main army of White-Clad Men stationed at the marketplace had vanished, along with large numbers of Blue-Clad Men.
Everyone else was dead.
An enraged voice rang out from the Upper Mountain District, carrying throughout the town.
"My son, Hongshou..."
The townspeople's camp.
Some sat and others stood, staring toward the marketplace with lingering dread. Fortunately, they had fled earlier; otherwise, even if the divine light had missed them, the shock waves would have severely injured them.
"The Fortune Mist brings great good fortune. The White-Clad Men have retreated..."
"...But why have these Blue-Clad Men gotten even busier...?"
Everyone looked around in confusion. Not only were the No-Underlayer Blue-Clad Man and the Crimson-Sashed Blue-Clad Men not resting, they were rapidly preparing their equipment, as though readying themselves for another great battle.
Outside the tent, Zhou Hen and the others stood watch in silence.
Before long, a blue-clad man with a severed arm approached with several Blue-Clad Men, escorting three children and one adult.
The adult was tightly trussed up and walked slowly forward.
The three children clutched a soft cord, inching forward step by step. The Severed-Arm Blue-Clad Man held its other end.
Everyone stared at the three children in shock. Some even felt their legs go weak.
All three had their mouths, eyes, noses, and ears sewn shut.