"This boy does not understand the pain we are about to inflict upon his small body," one of the men said.
Their leader raised her hand. She was a tall, slender thing with a bony face and sharp eyes. She was not beautiful in any way, and she knew it. From the way she and her people were dressed, they were already disciples of the sect, but their cultivation was only in the first step, with no hopes of ever raising beyond that.
"Since your useless father died with the young lady's inheritance, you as his son must naturally pay for his sins. This is what a good son would do, and I happen to know that you are such a son," the woman said as she walked closer to Mo Xiao.
The little boy felt a cold wind move up his spine at this moment. He lifted his head and looked at the woman.
"I welcome death. After all, all those who harbor life must one day return it to the world. We are but visitors in this cruel hell we call Creation."
