At dawn, the slaves were herded with whips into a barn behind the clan's luxurious temple. There, crammed among soiled animals and piles of straw, hundreds of emaciated figures huddled together. Their faces, hollowed by exhaustion, looked like masks of ash.
Tao Yu Xin and Xu, curled up in a dark corner, could hear the distant screams of executed rebels.
— Let go of my son! Let him go, you filthy demons! screamed a mother.
Three masters had tied the child to horses. Before his mother's eyes, they mercilessly tore him apart.
— No… No! I don't want to die… Mama… Mama… the boy sobbed, just before his limbs were ripped from his body in a terrible scream.
— AAAAAAAAARGH!! AAAAAAAAAGH! Blood gushed from his dismembered body like a fountain over the rubble.
— Why are you doing this?! What did we do to deserve this?! cried the mother as she ran toward the still-warm corpse. She gathered his torn remains in her arms, holding them close, her tears mixing with the blood.
— Woman. Who gave you permission to speak to the Lord's son? spat one of the slavers, pointing his sword at her throat.
— Kill me if it amuses you! Someone will punish you for your crimes! she screamed, striking the soldier's horse with her bloodied fists.
In response, he struck her brutally. The leather whip tore her skin. She collapsed, her face covered in blood.
Around them, the other slaves, shackled, watched in mute horror. Some vomited. Others prayed to forgotten gods.
— This is horrible… murmured a man in his forties, his Asian features gaunt.
— Goddess Xuelan… what have we done to deserve all this? whispered a woman, her voice broken.
Suddenly, silence fell. A shadow approached.
The son of the clan, dressed in a robe embroidered with gold and purple, entered the barn. He grabbed the mother by the hair and hurled her into the crowd.
— Barbaric people… You, the Khou, massacred over forty million of our kin. You raped our women, enslaved our descendants, murdered our children. You deserve every moment of this punishment, he said coldly.
— It wasn't us! cried a slave. We're not responsible for our ancestors' crimes!
A whip cracked. It struck his face full-force, tearing flesh in a scream of agony.
— You Khou are cursed by the gods, declared the young master with unyielding firmness.
— Who will punish us, slave? sneered one of the guards. Your false goddess?
— You will all be judged by Xuelan Mowang! sobbed the mother, still holding her child's body.
— Another worthless deity… Our God is stronger than yours!
The young master began lashing the crowd. His whip cracked flesh, tore clothes, shattered dignity.
But suddenly, a chill ran through the soldiers.
A man stepped forward: a towering warrior clad in golden armor with dragon-scale pauldrons. From his back hung a saber crackling with Qi lightning.
— Young master… he murmured in a deep voice. Do not profane that name.
The young man turned, surprised.
— A mere servant of the Mowang Temple defeated thirty thousand of our cultivators. Do not provoke her.
— Brave fool… the young master began, then hesitated. Elder brother Zhi, I respect your wisdom, but we cannot show weakness to miserable slaves…
In a corner, Tao Yu Xin frowned. He placed a finger on his chin.
— Who is this Xuelan? he asked quietly.
— Master Tao… whispered Xu. Must we remain in this uncomfortable position much longer? Why not simply kill them all—including that "servant"?
Tao Yu Xin gave a faint smile. His eyes gleamed with cold mischief.
— Xu… Patience. To observe, understand, and wait… that is the key to survival.