When they saw the corpses scattered throughout the village, like a human purgatory, the faces of the elder and the young girl turned pale in an instant.
The burning thatched huts stretched their shadows long, distorting them in the pools of blood.
"Old man, what's going on here? Could it be an evil cultivator came through?" The cool young girl clenched her fist, her nails deeply embedded in her palm.
She looked at the incomplete bodies of the elderly, her delicate body trembling slightly, the anger in her eyes almost tangible.
The elder glanced at the bodies of the elderly, sighed, and lightly swept his duster, dispelling the lingering stench of blood: "Such things are all too common; don't tell me you still don't know enough?"
"Heaven and Earth are ruthless, treating all creatures as straw dogs." He looked up at the waning moon, his voice heavy: "Mortals unable to cultivate are no different from ants in their eyes."
