295: Lord

"Thump... thump-thump..."

A dull, rhythmic sound of horse hooves traveled from the distant horizon.

The sound wasn't loud, but it struck every villager's heart like a heavy hammer.

The laughter came to an abrupt halt.

Everyone, regardless of age, saw the vitality that had just blossomed on their faces instantly fade, replaced by a gray-white color that seeped into their bones, something known as "fear."

They looked in the direction of the sound.

A yellow Dragon made of dust was rapidly rushing toward the village along the winding mountain road.

At the front of the dust cloud were a dozen tall horses, and upon them, soldiers clad in shoddy leather armor, holding rusted spears, with faces full of fat and malice.

The leader was a corpulent man, almost crushing the mount beneath him.

He wore a relatively shiny suit of chainmail, with a scimitar inlaid with fake gems hanging at his waist, and on his greasy face, a pair of small eyes were squinted into slits, gleaming with a greed that surpassed even a vulture.

The captain of the tax collectors, Gorlock.

Known as "Gorlock the Scraper."

He had arrived.

"It's over."

The old village chief's body swayed, the pottery bowl in his hand falling to the ground and shattering into pieces.

The hope that had just risen was completely shattered the moment he saw that face.

The horse troop stopped at the village entrance, the dust they kicked up choking everyone and making it impossible to open their eyes.

Gorlock pulled on the reins, looking down at the entire village. When his gaze fell upon the golden wheat field at the village entrance, his squinted eyes widened abruptly, and a greedy gasp escaped his throat, like a hungry wolf smelling blood.

"Oh? What do I see? This cursed patch of mud has actually grown gold?"

He grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, his voice sharp and grating.

"It seems the gods occasionally take a nap, letting you lowly peasants get lucky."

The soldiers behind him burst into laughter, eyeing the shivering villagers with mockery, as if they were looking at a flock of lambs waiting to be slaughtered.

The old village chief leaned on his wooden staff, trembling as he stepped forward, bowing humbly, almost prostrating himself on the ground.

"Lord Gorlock... why... why have you come?"

Gorlock used the tip of his whip to lift the old village chief's chin, forcing him to look up.

"Old thing, you know perfectly well why. The Baron heard your village had great luck this year and specifically sent me to collect the 'Miracle Tax'."

"'Miracle Tax'?" The old village chief was completely stunned.

"That's right!" Gorlock's voice suddenly rose, spitting saliva all over the old village chief's face. "All harvests are to be surrendered! The Baron is merciful and will consider leaving you some wheat bran and well water so you won't starve to death."

"All of it?!"

This word was like a thunderclap, exploding in the minds of all the villagers.

They had just crawled back from the edge of Hell, and before they could even catch their breath, were they to be pushed back down?

"My Lord, please, have mercy!" The old village chief knelt on the ground with a "thud," hugging Gorlock's horse leg, tears streaming down his face. "Our village hasn't seen a harvest in hundreds of years. This is a miracle bestowed by the Divine Venerable, this is our life-saving grain! Please, have mercy. According to the tax rate of previous years, we will pay, we will pay thirty percent, no, fifty percent! Please, leave us a way to survive!"

"A way to survive?"

Gorlock seemed to have heard the funniest joke in the world. He kicked the old village chief away, and the latter rolled away like a broken sack.

"The only way for you lowly peasants to survive is to dedicate everything to the Lord!"

He raised his whip and cracked it hard against the ground, producing a sharp sound.

"I'll give you a quarter of an hour to pile all the grain at the village entrance! Whoever dares to hide even a single grain, I will chop off one of their fingers! If I'm not satisfied..."

He looked around coldly and licked his chapped lips.

"I wouldn't mind letting this village return to its original, Death Qi-filled state."

Despair.

A despair deeper than eternal barrenness gripped everyone's heart.

Several soldiers had already dismounted, grinning as they walked toward the golden wheat field, ready to start pillaging.

Just then.

A calm voice rang out, not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears.

"No."

Everyone was stunned.

The grin on Gorlock's face froze. He slowly turned his head to look at the source of the voice.

Li Dong walked out from behind the crowd.

There was not a shred of Aura emanating from him, and his pace was neither fast nor slow, just like a traveler taking a walk after a meal.

Yet the moment he appeared, he naturally became the center of attention.

It was an indescribable presence; it was as if by standing there, he was the Law of this place.

Gorlock squinted his eyes, examining this unfamiliar face.

"What are you? How dare you meddle in your master Gorlock's business?"

Li Dong ignored his clamoring and simply walked to the side of the old village chief who had been kicked down, helping him up.

Then, he looked at Gorlock, his tone still calm.

"The taxes here can be paid."

Gorlock was taken aback, then immediately revealed a "you're sensible" smile.

"But not the way you're collecting them." Li Dong's tone shifted.

Gorlock's smile froze.

"Taxation is a part of maintaining order, not one-sided plunder." Li Dong spoke as if stating a truth. "Thirty percent goes to the Lord, ten percent as the village's public reserve to deal with emergencies. The rest belongs to the villagers themselves. Only in this way can things circulate and flourish."

He was not negotiating.

He was performing "Attunement."

He was attempting to implant the Law of "Dynamic Equilibrium" into the order of this world in the simplest way possible.

Gorlock was stunned for a full three seconds before bursting into earth-shattering laughter.

"Hahahaha! What did I just hear? A lunatic who popped out of nowhere is teaching me how to collect taxes? Teaching the Baron how to govern his territory?"

He laughed until he was doubled over, tears almost coming out.

"Kid, was your brain kicked by a donkey? Or are you that so-called 'Divine Venerable'?"

He suddenly restrained his smile, his face becoming incomparably ferocious.

"Get him! Break this lunatic's legs! Seize all the grain! Not a single grain can be left!"

"Roar!"

A dozen or so soldiers pounced on Li Dong like wolves and tigers.

The villagers let out terrified screams.

Mo Chen gripped his brush tightly, his knuckles turning white. In the Void Realm, intense colors had already begun to surge.

However, Li Dong just stood there quietly, not moving an inch.

A bizarre scene occurred.

The soldier rushing at the very front, despite the flat ground ahead, was tripped by an invisible rope, and with a "splat," he fell face-first into the dirt, incidentally taking down the two companions behind him.

Another soldier raised his spear high, thrusting it toward Li Dong's chest, but the moment the spear tip was about to touch his clothes, his wrist twisted inexplicably, and the spear grazed Li Dong's side, stabbing fiercely into the buttocks of the person next to him.

A pig-like scream resounded through the sky.

The scene instantly became chaotic and comical.

The soldiers were like drunks, stumbling about, colliding with each other. Some slashed their long swords toward their own men's heads (blocked by helmets), and some stabbed their spears into their companions' feet.

Even though they used all their strength, they couldn't even touch a corner of Li Dong's clothes.

All attacks, all power, under some invisible Law, were twisted, deflected, and directed toward the wrong path.

This is [Dynamic Equilibrium].

You are strong, so I will guide your strength to attack another force. I am always that fulcrum, letting all imbalanced forces move toward chaos and disintegration on their own.

The ferocity on Gorlock's face gradually turned into astonishment, finally transforming into a bone-chilling cold.

What kind of Demonic Technique is this?!

He finally realized that he had kicked an iron plate with no visible bottom.

"Stop... stop! Everyone stop!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

The chaotic soldiers felt as if they had been granted amnesty, scrambling back behind him, each one bruised and battered, their eyes filled with fear as they looked at Li Dong.

Li Dong still stood in place, his expression unchanged.

He simply reached out his hand.

Hum—

A slight hum.

A simple, ancient-looking black iron long blade appeared out of thin air in his palm.

[Blade of Judgment].

In this world, it manifested into its most basic "weapon" form.

There was no radiance, no strange phenomena, only a texture as heavy as a mountain, sharp enough to seemingly sever concepts.

The next instant, Li Dong's figure vanished from where he stood.

Gorlock only felt a blur before his eyes, and a coldness that reached deep into his Soul had already pressed against his throat.

He stiffly looked down.

That pitch-black long blade was, at some point, already placed against his neck.

And the tip of the whip he had just raised had been cleanly sliced off, drifting down to the ground.

Fast!

So fast that he couldn't react at all!

Cold sweat instantly soaked the chainmail on his back.

He could feel that the blade hadn't truly touched his skin, but the fierce, unparalleled sharpness was already causing his skin to sting.

He had no doubt that if the other party's thought moved, his head would be separated from his body.

The whole world was deathly silent.

All the villagers held their breath, their hearts pounding wildly.

They watched the back of the figure who, with one person and one blade, suppressed all the villains. That figure was not tall, but at this moment, it seemed capable of holding up this gray-white sky!

The mettle that had always been suppressed, whipped, and deprived was ignited at this moment!

A young man silently picked up a hoe from the corner of the wall.

A woman shielded her child behind her and picked up a stone.

More and more people picked up the only "weapons" they had—farm tools.

Their eyes were no longer numb and fearful, but filled with the anger of being pushed to a dead end and the determination to fight to the death after seeing hope!

Divine light shone in Mo Chen's eyes, and the brush in his hand was burning!

Without the slightest hesitation, he used the Void Realm as ink and his will as color, his brush moving like a dragon and a snake, fiercely imprinting this heart-shaking scene onto the canvas!

In the painting, Li Dong's back merged with that black iron long blade, and a will known as "Resistance" permeated through the paper, resonating with the hearts of all the villagers!

Gorlock felt the gazes filled with Killing Intent surging from all directions.

These lowly peasants... these two-legged sheep... how dare they look at me with such eyes?

But what he feared more was the blade at his neck.

"I... I... I am the Baron's tax collector..." he said with a trembling voice, bringing out his last resort.

Li Dong did not speak.

He simply pushed the blade edge forward by another fraction.

A thin line of blood appeared on Gorlock's neck.

"Ah—!"

Gorlock was so terrified that he suffered from Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, and a warm stream gushed out from between his legs, the stench instantly spreading.

He scrambled and fell off his horse, retreating on his hands and feet, his voice filled with a sob.

"Don't kill me! I'll leave! I'll leave immediately!"

He didn't care about his dignity or the soldiers who were still dazed, and like a stray dog, he scrambled toward his mount in a panic.

"You... you wait! The Baron's army will trample this place! They will grind all of you into meat paste!"