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.
