In the dim twilight, house after house was set ablaze, the straw on the rooftops igniting into fierce flames.
A troop of rebel soldiers from Prince Jing Mansion was herding the villagers to the village entrance.
"Don't burn my house! Please, sir! I beg you, don't burn it..."
An elderly woman with white hair was crying out as a soldier dragged her out single-handedly from the courtyard.
The old woman, bedridden and unable to stand because of her age, was dragged by the strong soldier as if she were weightless like a dog, looking back tearfully at her burning house.
"Let go of my mother..." Another man being forced along shouted with red eyes, rushing frantically forward, but was struck down with a groan by a rebel with just the hilt of his sword.
A private army, with priceless magic artifacts, financed heavily by the Royal Mansion, was not something a group of villagers could resist.
At the village entrance, a group of villagers was being driven together, surrounded by the glittering blades of the soldiers.
Liu Qi's family was among them, and at this moment, Liu Qi's face and body were bruised, as if beaten, yet he held his wife and daughter tightly behind him.
The gentle Liu Wangshi silently wept, clutching her husband's hand with one hand while holding her daughter Xiaoba on the other.
The little girl named Xiaoba watched the scene dumbfounded, as if scared out of her wits, not understanding what had happened.
All she knew was that Sister Xu had suddenly flown away in the afternoon, and then those soldiers had chased after her.
Then some of the soldiers came back, viciously driving the villagers together, and she vaguely heard snatches of conversation between the rebels.
It seemed that Sister Xu and that brother were important figures, and because they had harbored them, they were to be captured and judged.
The soldiers kept interrogating the brother's whereabouts, and the village chief was beaten to spitting blood.
"Everyone's here, looks like the Zhao thief has gotten away. It's a pity, we can only capture these irrelevant villagers to report back, it's still a merit," said the leader of the rebels at the village entrance.
Another rebel shook his head and said:
"Perhaps it's not a bad thing he escaped. Lord Ouyang and his people aren't here. If we encountered that Zhao thief, we might not be able to handle him."
The former laughed and said: "What if he's formidable? Didn't he just abandon his lord and flee? Enough, let's move, hoisting these burdens back to the city will take till dark."
The rebels were jesting and about to drive the villagers away when suddenly everyone heard a sharp, low whooshing sound passing by their ears.
The elite soldier who had just been jesting had his throat slit by a flying dagger that came seemingly out of nowhere, and he fell back clutching his neck in horror.
The other soldiers looked in terror towards the endless sea of fire.
Little Xiaoba was stunned, her big eyes reflected the rage of the flames, and from the flames emerged a familiar yet particularly cold figure.
The Golden Crow Flying Dagger, wrapped in a dark golden glow, was held by Zhao Douan.
"It's him! The Zhao thief!"
"The Zhao thief has appeared!"
Panic-stricken, the soldiers yelled, drawing their swords, while others fired their magic crossbow arrows.
However, Zhao Douan's somber face showed no sign of fear.
He took a step, suddenly leaving behind an afterimage, and appeared beside the Liu family, gently laying his warm palm over Xiaoba's eyes:
Zhao Douan said softly, looking abnormally calm as he watched the magic swords slash down from all directions, the shadows of countless blades overlapped in his flame-enshrouded pupils.
Zhao Douan suddenly understood what he had been lacking all this time.
"It's this mortal world."
He lifted his gaze, looking at the countless illusory red threads spreading towards the sky, meeting Pei Niannu's gaze as she floated in mid-air, dressed in bridal attire and wearing golden face armor.
In this moment, Zhao Douan stepped into the Worldly Realm.