Yuan Xuelan fell from the skies with fire and lightning at his palms. Silei remained sheathed at his hip, he reckoned that he wouldn't need to draw the sword.
Shouts were abound and he spotted the emperor roar from his lofty throne; a worthless person, he thought absently, an unworthy person.
Perhaps those were thoughts from his previous incarnation that had somehow seeped through to his mind.
Yuan Xuelan did his best not to think about it.
Spears lunged toward him but the guards had movements that were both slow and unrefined. Yuan Xuelan did not even need to think to deflect their blows, his hand instinctively knowing the blade tips away from underneath the shaft.
More importantly his attention was veered to the crowd of prisoners. Some looked him as though he were to be their savior, while others couldn't shake off the vacant look of despair in their eyes.
