Having left the main district and passed by that long-abandoned old city wall, Lu Li had already seen these things with his own eyes.
Behind the mountain, large fields and scattered houses were strewn along the paths, their lights like fireflies, sporadically sprinkled in the pitch dark, resembling stars in a night sky of poor visibility, while some town lights looked like swathes of the Milky Way.
Interestingly, the residents of Belfast generally looked down on the country folk behind the mountains and mocked their accent as if their mouths were stuffed with pudding.
Even though both were on Sugard Mountain, only a few dozen miles apart.
On the desolate road, a lone firelight moved slowly.
After leaving Belfast, Lu Li had lit a torch, heeding the advice of the carriage owner: Darkness was everywhere, and in the places light could not reach, evil thrived; only light could dispel them. The brighter your surroundings, the safer you were.
