Fallen Soul Slope.
The ground was slightly elevated, the slope broad and open, with no tall trees blocking the surroundings. It was one of Dutian Prefecture's established execution grounds for major criminals.
At the center of the slope stood an enormous bluestone execution platform, dozens of yards across.
Over the years, countless torrents of blood had soaked into it.
The once clean, pale stone surface had long since been stained a dark reddish brown.
At the highest point on the platform's eastern side, a single carved armchair stood atop a level stone dais, imposing and dignified.
At that moment, City Lord Yang Shijing sat upright in it, clad in crimson official robes with a jade belt at his waist.
From his commanding height, he gazed down over the entire execution ground, his expression stern and majestic.
Beside the armchair, the adviser Bai Ji stood quietly holding a folding fan, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Several armored officers stood solemnly with their hands on their swords, ranks of armored personal guards behind them.
"Heavens. The city lord himself is overseeing today's executions."
"Overseeing them in person!"
At the sight, the commoners gathered below could not help murmuring in astonishment.
The city lord attended to a thousand affairs each day. Ordinary people rarely had the chance to see him.
"That's City Lord Yang Shijing?" Xie Jinghan asked, staring at the figure seated high above.
"Yes. A corrupt official wearing a mask of righteousness," Jiang Lingshan said coldly.
On the execution platform, soldiers dragged the condemned prisoners out of the prison carts one by one and lined them up.
A bare-chested executioner stood beside each prisoner, arms knotted with bulging muscle, holding a three-foot ghost-head broadsword with its tip pointing upward.
The blades reflected the piercing midday sunlight,