The old man had endured enough—the harassment, the threats, the suffocating presence of the sects. The city was no longer the safe haven it had once been. It had changed, twisted into something unrecognizable, a place where strength dictated justice, and the weak were nothing more than pawns to be sacrificed.
His weary gaze drifted to his son, his daughter-in-law, and his precious granddaughter, who had been beaten despite their innocence. The sight of her swollen face, the dried blood on her lips, and the bruises littering her arms sent a sharp, searing pain through his heart. His fingers curled into trembling fists, his nails digging into his palms as suppressed rage threatened to erupt.
"The River Bending Axe Sect needs to pay for this…" Doumen muttered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
A terrible silence followed.
