Chapter 19 Cruel reality, the Ashfell family attacks

Some villages and hamlets had already begun organizing their people, preparing to flee beyond the jurisdiction of Nezier Town.

By now, everyone understood that the Ashfell family of Purple River City was preparing to strike.

The last time the Ashfell family mobilized such a large force to conquer a town, every mortal within a hundred miles of that town was slaughtered—men, women, children, even the elderly. None were spared.

Although the Aragon Kingdom had laws strictly prohibiting the wanton massacre of mortals, the Ashfell family, as the dominant power within a hundred miles of Purple River City, acted with impunity.

Even if they wiped out an entire town, no one would intervene.

The administrative divisions of the Aragon Kingdom were structured into villages, towns, cities, counties, prefectures, and provinces.

The entire kingdom spanned three provinces, seventy-two counties, and thousands of cities. Its territory stretched across millions of li, from the southern seas to the northern mountains.

Nominally, the royal family of the Aragon Kingdom held supreme authority, ruling over the three provinces and seventy-two counties.

But the kingdom's vast expanse made centralized control nearly impossible. Noble families and sects carved out their own domains.

As long as the Ashfell family delivered their tributes on time to their higher-ups, they were free to act however they pleased within their territory.

As villages attempted to flee, the Ashfell family's forces largely ignored them.

However, the allied factions accompanying the Ashfell family—forces from neighboring towns loyal to them—showed no such restraint.

They brandished their blades, pillaging and slaughtering as they went.

The Ashfell family did nothing to stop them.

Allowing these subordinate forces to loot and plunder was a way to boost their morale.

With blood on their hands and spoils in their possession, these forces would be even more eager to charge into Nezier Town when the time came.

"No… please, don't kill me!"

"I'm begging you, spare my child!"

Under the Ashfell family's silent approval, the villages along their path became hellscapes.

Children cried. Women were slaughtered. Young men were bound hand and foot, reduced to slaves.

"Hehehe… Scream! Scream louder!"

"I love seeing people drown in despair…"

A burly commander with a full beard, clad in armor, reached out with a rough hand, his face twisted with a cruel grin as he approached a woman.

The woman's face was filled with despair.

Her husband lay on the ground nearby, blood pooling beneath him. His breathing was shallow, but his eyes blazed with fury as he glared at the commander.

There was no miracle. No twist of fate.

No righteous cultivator descended to purge the evil.

"Hahahaha!"

"Commander, you're unstoppable!"

The commander's personal guards laughed as they stood around him, their hands gripping blood-stained blades.

The woman's hair swayed in the wind, her eyes gradually shifting from despair to numbness.

Among the Ashfell family's ranks, a young cultivator—one of their descendants—witnessed the scene and frowned deeply.

He stepped forward, intending to intervene, but an elder from the Ashfell family stopped him.

"Why?"

The young Ashfell family member's voice trembled with anger, his face a mix of shock and disbelief.

This was the first time his ideals had collided so violently with reality.

"This is the law of the world," the elder replied coldly.

"In the mortal realm or the cultivation world, the weak are nothing but weeds to be trampled."

"To be weak is to have no dignity, no right to survive."

"Remember this: you were born with spirit roots. Your future is destined—you will become a Ashfell family elder, perhaps even the patriarch of our immortal family!"

"Our Ashfell family has stood tall in Purple River City, commanding the submission of the surrounding forces, not through kindness, but through absolute strength and unyielding iron will."

"I brought you here to show you the true, cruel face of the world."

The elder who had stopped the young Ashfell family member spoke with a calm and steady voice, one laced with indifference and a hint of menace.

Many years ago, he too had been filled with ideals of justice.

But countless battles and endless conflicts had hardened his heart, stripping away any notions of righteousness.

In his experience, so-called justice brought no benefits to his family, no rewards for himself, and often invited unnecessary trouble.

Hearing the elder's words, the Ashfell family youth fell silent.

Seeing this, the elder said no more and returned to his carriage.

As the slaughter along their path subsided, the Ashfell family's forces, along with their allied factions, resumed their march toward Nezier Town.

This time, the Ashfell family had mobilized not only their elite guards but also a terrifying array of cultivators:

Two Bone Tempering eldersThree Blood Tempering eldersSix Skin Tempering cultivators

And most crucially, the Ashfell family patriarch, the strongest and most revered figure in their ranks, was personally overseeing the campaign.

Including the cultivators from their allied forces, the Ashfell family had nearly fifteen cultivators in their invasion force.

Meanwhile, in Nezier Town, the atmosphere was tense, and the streets were eerily deserted.

Ever since Arius had killed the Ashfell family's Third Elder, many residents of Nezier Town had fled to neighboring towns for safety.

The De Molinos family's businesses and industries had taken a severe hit during this period.

Even among the De Molinos family's guards, nearly half had deserted.

As for the De Molinos family's members, most had been relocated by Simon.

Those who remained were either paralyzed by fear or had resolved themselves to die defending their home.

Arius was fully aware of the situation in Nezier Town.

But he didn't care.

If he won this battle, the fleeing residents would naturally return, and the De Molinos family would rebuild its confidence and morale.

More than that, this victory would mark the start of the De Molinos family's rise as the dominant power within a hundred miles of Purple River City, taking the Ashfell family's place.

Arius's preparations were complete.

With the Spirit Poison Bottles, Fire Talismans, and the Three-Talent Formation Flags in hand, he was ready.

If he could take down the Ashfell family patriarch, no number of guards, Bone Tempering elders, or Blood Tempering cultivators would stand a chance against him.

The autumn wind howled, and the setting sun painted the sky a blood-red hue.

Arius stood with his hands behind his back, outside Nezier Town, waiting.

Finally, a dense, black mass of Ashfell family guards appeared on the horizon, marching steadily toward him.

Their movements were precise, their steps uniform.

Even the foot soldiers wore heavy iron armor.

The five hundred cavalrymen were far from ordinary—they had all trained in martial arts and were each a force to be reckoned with.

Against such a force, even Skin Tempering or Blood Tempering cultivators would struggle to endure the prolonged assault.

Hooooo!

The sound of a deep horn echoed across the town as it reached the walls of Nezier Town.

De Molinos family guards pulled their bows to full draw, readying arrows and preparing vats of flaming oil.

The De Molinos family's ballista, a massive crossbow capable of launching bolts weighing tens of thousands of kg, was also brought out and positioned.

This ballista was one of the De Molinos family's most prized assets, capable of severely injuring Bone Tempering cultivators with a single shot.

Its only flaw was its slow firing speed and the need for hundreds of people to operate it.

"Nezier Town's De Molinos family has sown chaos in the region, killing the Third Elder of the Ashfell family…"

"To restore order and stability, the Ashfell family of Purple River City will suppress this rebellion and annihilate the De Molinos family!"

"Once Nezier Town falls, all rebels shall be slaughtered!"

The proclamation came from one of the Ashfell family elders, who rode atop a fierce beast.

His voice was hoarse but carried authority, echoing across the entirety of Nezier Town.

Every word reached the ears of the De Molinos family guards and residents, filling the air with a deeper sense of despair.

"Begin the assault!"

The Ashfell family elder's command rang out, and the allied forces charged ahead, leading the way.

These subordinate factions were nothing more than cannon fodder to the Ashfell family.

Even though they knew this, none of them dared to retreat.

Charging into Nezier Town gave them the chance to loot and plunder its residents.

But retreating?

Retreating meant certain death—execution at the hands of the Ashfell family. Not only would they die, but their families and entire clans would also be destroyed.

For these forces, moving forward offered a slim chance of survival.

Moving back offered none.