The Obstacles at the City Gate

"You guys are right on time" Kant nodded.

On the street, the strong smell of blood permeated the air. There were broken limbs everywhere. There were also many black-robed men who were not completely dead yet. They were wailing in pain and convulsing in pain, like the most lowly insects.

Legitimacy belonged to the victor; losers were always in the wrong. The losers should be punished by cruel reality.

Just like now.

Some people might pity their pain, but Kant wouldn't.

Kant walked forward and pulled out his sword. A strong golden light appeared, like a searchlight. Kant used the sword as a stick and lifted the face under a hood. It was a middle-aged man.

"City defense troop." Kant raised his eyebrows, but he also recognized his identity.

He walked to the side.

He lifted the black robe and hood on his body again.