Green Phoenix Peak stretched across hundreds of miles and in the blink of an eye, was desolate, with all the demon beasts slain to the last.
Between the mountains and fields, countless paperfolk roamed, swiftly executing any wild boar or bird in the woods that showed even the slightest hint of spirituality, denying them the chance to transform into spirits.
From then on, the area around Dragon Flying Village was free of the trouble from demon beasts.
...
Ning Daoran wore a plain white robe, his hand casually resting behind his back.
Gazing at the distant small village, his heart was full of emotions. Time had passed, and those familiar figures were submerged in the river of time, never to be seen again.
"Come."