Lu Yao staggered out of the narrow passage. Instead of the expected mountain breeze, he was met with a thick, suffocating stench of blood.
His legs gave way, and he nearly collapsed onto the slick moss. The stilt houses that had been wreathed in cooking smoke only yesterday were now consumed by roaring flames, and familiar figures lay scattered across the threshing floor. The boy who had given him the small bamboo crossbow now hung over the fence like a rag doll.
"Brutes!" Xingye’s Miao saber sliced through the thick smoke, the tip deflecting a poison arrow fired from the shadows.
Chapter 100