The smooth official road had long since become rough, pockmarked with craters of various sizes and trenches of differing depths.
Bodies lay strewn across the ground.
A cold wind blew.
Torn, blood-soaked clothes flapped in the wind.
A sharp blade, stuck point-down in the earth, was still humming defiantly before a foot viciously kicked it away.
The thick stench of blood hung in the air, refusing to dissipate.
"Senior Brother Qiu."
A handsome youth with sharp features, holding a folding fan, spoke as he gently waved it:
"These two are enchanting beauties. Don't be in such a hurry to kill them; I have a use for them."
"I know," Senior Brother Qiu, who wore a black headband and carried a massive black coffin on his back, said in a muffled voice.
"Their belongings are mine, their bodies are yours."
"Junior Brother Zhang, no matter what good things they have on them, don't regret this when the battle is over."
