Drizzle falls gently, the forest shrouded in mist.
"Kill!"
Blades gleam, blood splatters.
The sounds of shouting, pleading, and chaos blend into one.
With a thud, a man lunges onto a grain cart, blood spurting from his throat, clutching a sack of grain, the light fading from his eyes.
"Haha!"
A burly man wipes the blood from his face, eyes filled with excitement, "Big brother, with so much grain, our village has a future!"
Beside him, a horse-faced man swings his blade, cutting down a sneaky guard, then surveys the scene with a grim expression: "Move quickly, take all our dead back with us!"
Just as he spoke, shadows flitted through the forest, and dozens of black-clothed Profound Guards shot out, swords drawn with a clang.
The bandits were no match, subdued in an instant.
They were about to utter some tough words, but when they saw a fearsome Daoist riding in on a tiger, their faces turned ashen.
"National Guardian True Man Zhang Kui..."
