Luo Xiao rode Black Qilin. This king among horses, who had never shown the slightest fear while charging left and right through battle formations with him, now seemed unable to lift his hooves to move forward.
Within the valley, mountains of corpses lay piled upon one another, and River after River of Blood and Mud, composed of blood, brains, and pulped flesh, flowed down from them.
Even the most terrifying vision of the Yellow Springs in the most ancient age could have been no worse. Hell on earth was nothing other than this.
The Taiping Army soldiers trembled slightly as they gazed at the scene before them. Excitement mingled with their fear, and a faint sweetness tinged the bloody stench, making them recoil yet unable to resist drawing closer.
Humans truly were terrifying creatures, yearning for peace and stability yet confronting death with a frenzy that rose from the depths of their hearts.
Clop, clop, clop.
Luo Xiao rode Black Qilin past, gazing at the mountains of corpses and seas of blood he had created with his own hands. For a moment, he felt dazed, murmuring quietly, "The Way of Man stretches faint and far; the way of immortals stretches vast and boundless. The way of ghosts rejoices, standing at the gate of human life."
Over and over, Luo Xiao recited it, took a few more looks, then waved his hand, turned, and left.
These subjects of the Han Court had died, and he, a rebel against the Han Court, would die too. Who could escape death?
Surging flames began to burn within the valley, blazing across countless corpses. Blood burned like grease, fiercely and without end. Black smoke rose into the sky above the valley, carrying the foul, savory stench of roasting human flesh.
Not a soul remained here.