Evening was drawing near.
Though Chang'an had been far from peaceful these past few days.
For ordinary folk, life still had to go on.
Steam still billowed from the roadside eateries, and the cries of peddlers carrying shoulder poles rose one after another.
At the far end of the street.
A strange wind suddenly swept up.
Then came a muffled rumbling, like the pounding of drums.
In a roadside tea stall, a man's hand shook as he raised a large bowl of tea.
Scalding tea spilled all over his crotch, but he had no time to wipe it away.
He stared toward the end of the street, his eyes wide.
A black tide surged into view.
Horses?
Yet they were no ordinary horses.
Their coats were glossy black, without a single stray hair, and they stood half a head taller than ordinary horses.
Wind swirled around their hooves, and sparks flew as they struck the flagstones.
Most terrifying were their eyes, red as twin lanterns and gleaming with bloodthirsty ferocity.
Their riders all wore black robes patterned in red.
Chains wrapped around their waists, clattering as the horses rose and fell beneath them.
To ordinary ears, the sound was like the soul-snaring chains wielded by the Black and White Impermanence, making their hearts tremble.
"Demon Suppression Office business! All others, stand clear!"
At that shout, the long street, which had only just fallen silent, instantly erupted.
When had the common folk ever seen such a spectacle?
Those who had wanted to watch the excitement now wished they had another pair of legs, scrambling and stumbling into the alleys on either side.
They could not even spare a moment to pack up their stalls, leaving vegetable leaves and shattered bowls scattered across the ground.
Within a few breaths.
The street that