A flash of steel, and a head flew from its shoulders, landing in a shallow puddle with a splash. Fresh blood trickled from the severed neck. The eyes on that lifeless face were still open wide, filled with equal parts piety and fanaticism, yet curiously devoid of fear.0

“They’re just ordinary people,” Yan Mu lamented, gazing upon the fallen devotees of the Immortal Worship Cult. “If we took them into custody, perhaps they could recover. Maybe they could go back to living normal lives.” He sighed, then managed a self-mocking laugh. Despite his misgivings, he had no choice but to carry out the executions.0

Seeing his nephew’s compassion, Li Yuan reminded him, “We’re at war, you mustn’t hesitate.”0

Yan Mu exhaled heavily. “They never truly wanted to hurt anyone. They’re just driven by some sinister power. These people had families…parents, children, homes. Maybe…”0

Noticing Yan Mu’s torment, Li Yuan cut him off with a sharp call of his name. The young man snapped out of his thoughts and apologized. 0

“I’ll do the killing,” Li Yuan offered. “You stand aside if you have to. You don’t need a burden on your conscience.”0

After a moment of silence, Yan...0