Chapter 14: Turmoil in Chang'an

With this thought in mind, Wang Liang packed up his belongings, and the sixteen Ancient Wengzhong statues transformed into purple energy and entered his body.

From this battle, Wang Liang realized that these sixteen ancient Wengzhong statues were not only powerful magical treasures but could also be used as a battle formation. With their presence, Wang Liang could easily dominate any fight below level 30.

After stowing away the Ancient Wengzhong statues, Wang Liang mounted his bronze warhorse. However, instead of heading back toward Chang’an City along his original route, he rode steadily westward.

In truth, if Wang Liang had been more brazen, he might have gone to the mountain goat spirit, Big Bull, to claim a reward. But for some reason, once seated on his bronze warhorse, he recalled the words of the young green ox spirit: “Don’t stir up trouble. Head straight west, get what you need, and leave.”

The reaction of the soldiers earlier had unsettled Wang Liang. He felt the incident involving the malevolent ghosts was beyond his scope of involvement.

After some thought, he decided it was better to act immediately rather than wait, so he chose to leave Chang’an City and travel west. After all, in the past two days, he had bought all the supplies he needed, obtained the necessary maps, and planned out his route thoroughly.

There was no reason to return. What if Chang’an City was sealed off because of this incident? What if the organization behind the malevolent ghosts came looking for him?

Wang Liang had to prepare for the worst. The more he thought about it, the more insecure he felt. Moreover, the system had already rewarded him for this mission, and the mountain goat spirit’s reward was negligible.

So, without looking back, he drove his bronze warhorse westward.

His choice proved wise.

As he rode west, chaos engulfed Chang’an City.

The city gates, which normally would only close at nightfall, were now all shut tight. Caravans that hadn’t made it inside were not allowed shelter even in the city’s corners; they were herded to the main roads nearby, guarded closely by soldiers.

Within the city, all residents were ordered home. Soldiers of the New Dynasty went door to door, checking each household’s registration records.

For a time, the grand estates of Chang’an City were thrown into turmoil. In such places, it was common to have hidden servants or slaves, but this time the New Dynasty forces cared little for such matters. Anyone whose registration did not match was dragged out to await further interrogation.

Even those with proper registration were not spared. The New Dynasty soldiers placed spiritual talismans on their foreheads, watching carefully to ensure the seals held. Only if the talisman remained intact were they released, along with a stern warning not to leave their homes for at least one hour.

No one dared to protest.

Three hundred years ago, the founding emperor of the New Dynasty, Wang Mang, had set the tone for the regime’s style: in peaceful times, society was harmonious, but at the first sign of major trouble, the central government would consolidate power, dispatch troops, and eliminate all dissent without mercy.

Over the past three centuries, such incidents had recurred roughly every fifty years in Chang’an, and the longtime residents had grown accustomed to the pattern. They even speculated quietly about what crisis had arisen this time.

Less than half an hour after the city was sealed, a roar echoed from the eastern marketplace of Chang’an.

A swirling cloud of yellow sand, mixed with flayed skins, surged outward as if trying to escape the city walls.

Though not large in size, this yellow sand was dense and foul-smelling. It carried the stench of weasels, the rusty tang of iron, the sharp scent of big cats, the earthy musk of dust and gravel, and the nauseating odor of human and beast flesh—an overwhelming and sickening blend.

At the very moment the yellow sand rose, its stench spread rapidly in all directions.

Soldiers closest to the sand were the first to suffer. Their eyes reddened uncontrollably, tears streaming, blinding them utterly.

The yellow sand had no intention of killing these soldiers directly. Instead, it carried with it countless strips of human and beast skin, attempting to fly over the city walls to the west.

But the New Dynasty’s forces had sealed the area specifically to deal with this threat.

As the yellow sand appeared, while some rangers and night watchmen continued their patrols checking registrations at homes, the bulk of the soldiers rushed toward the eastern market.

These soldiers were clad in black armor, wielding long halberds at their sides, swords hanging from their belts, and carrying heavy crossbows and shields on their backs. Their steps were light and their formations tight as they positioned themselves to block the advancing sand.

As the yellow sand surged forward, the soldiers simultaneously raised their heavy crossbows and unleashed a volley of bolts into the sand.

After the initial volley, they discarded their crossbows and charged forward with their halberds.

As they advanced, ghostly images of tigers, leopards, elephants, and bears appeared behind them, coalescing around their weapons. Every strike they landed shattered portions of the yellow sand.

The sand itself seemed enraged by the assault. It began to spread outward, sweeping through nearby houses and pulling out every living creature inside.

Both humans and monsters caught in the sand’s grasp had their life force drained utterly.

People and beasts alike were stripped of their flesh, left as mere skins drifting within the swirling dust. Stone and metal spirits, once their magical and life energy was drained, reverted to their original forms and were ground into powder by the sand, becoming part of the yellow dust itself.

Even the soldiers were not spared. Once the ghostly beasts behind them vanished, they too were sucked into the sand, their life and flesh absorbed, their weapons and armor ground to dust, merging into the sandstorm.

Yet despite such dire circumstances, the soldiers pressed forward relentlessly, attacking the yellow sand from all directions without hesitation.

With reinforcements arriving, strange beings began to appear among the troops.

These soldiers resembled oversized ants in a colony—distinctly different in stature, standing around two meters three in height and waist circumference, their skin tinted a bluish hue. They wielded heavy iron hammers.

As the yellow sand approached, these hulking soldiers hurled their iron hammers like meteors. The weapons glowed brighter and brighter as they flew, detonating upon impact with the sand in thunderous explosions that scattered the dust.

Thanks to these soldiers’ attacks and steadfast defense, the yellow sand ultimately failed to escape the city. After spreading across seven or eight city blocks, it was subdued within Chang’an itself, never reaching the famed Vermilion Bird Avenue.

Following this, Chang’an was placed under martial law for ten days as the authorities purged the darkness lurking beneath the city’s surface.

None of this concerned Wang Liang anymore; by then, he was nearing the borders of the New Dynasty, far from the turmoil behind him.