On the Seven Towers

Silla's face was pale, her facial features were distorted, her sparse brown hair was soaked with cold sweat, and the hoe in her hand had already fallen to the ground. Around him, thousands of townspeople were like swarms of headless flies, screaming and running away from the beatings of hundreds of soldiers.

Wearing leather armor and helmets, these soldiers held a stick in one hand and a shield in the other, beating everyone without restraint. Townspeople who ran around would be knocked to the ground in two or three blows; those who tried to resist would be beaten until their faces were bloody; and those with the worst luck would even have their necks broken.

Silla regretted it very much.

He is just a small businessman who lives a peaceful life. He has a considerate wife and a thirteen-year-old boy, and his life is pretty good.

It was all this idiot Scarface Paz who encouraged everyone to resist the tax and surrounded the ancestral home of Count Carlos Arias, but was ambushed by the count's guards from the fiefdom.

Although the folk customs of Floro Town are tough, how can a group of farmers, craftsmen and small businessmen holding hoes and sticks defeat heavily armed soldiers? The Arias family is the descendant of the berserker Mero, and they have always been wild and willful in doing things. Who knows what the count will do to them? Doing hard labor? Demoted to a slave? Or even hang him by the roadside? Silla couldn’t imagine her own ending.

He saw Pinto, the count's attendant, shouting loudly: "Hit me hard so that the tax-resisting fools will remember this lesson for the rest of their lives."

He saw that Scarface Paz was under the attack of Knight Batis, his fighting spirit was scattered, and he was about to be defeated.

He saw familiar men, women and children screaming, crying and begging for mercy.

He felt that all the strength in his body was drained by this nightmare scene.

Silla knelt on her knees, put her hands on her chest, lowered her head, closed her eyes tightly and prayed: God of nature, ancient gods, no matter who they are, please save us poor people.

He was not a believer, but he prayed over and over again. I don’t know if I really want something in my heart, or if I am just waiting for my final fate.

Maybe some great being really heard his prayer. Just when the soldier swung the stick at his head, the sky suddenly darkened, and a small dot of yellow light appeared in the sky above the Earl's mansion, a strange kind of light. The roar echoed throughout the countryside.

The light spot suddenly grew larger and smaller, like breathing. Suddenly, countless rock, soil and rocks poured out of the small spot out of thin air. They rolled and rotated, like a naughty boy pouring blocks out of his pocket. They grew bigger and bigger, growing out of nothing and covering half of the sky in a blink of an eye. The count's ancestral home was shattered in an instant under the impact of these stones.

Everyone forgot about the battle and stared blankly at the stones in the sky that kept gathering and combining, eventually forming a large island with many tall buildings on it, standing solemnly in the smoke and dust, like giant beasts. Then, as if being held by an invisible hand, the island fell to the ground in a slow and heavy posture. Splashing rocks and rising dust enveloped the crowd. The first to bear the brunt was the count and his guards, who were leaning against the house.

The world fell into darkness...