No Immortals Under Heaven

The north wind howled, and all was still.

Along the vast frontier between the northern borderlands of the Tang Empire in the eastern lands and the tribes of the wastelands, early autumn had arrived.

Hooves clattered, and a horse and rider raced past in a cloud of dust.

Far away, a dark shadow appeared and vanished. A rider galloped through the dust, charging beneath the rolling glow of the setting sun.

The sunset shone on a lone rider, while the horse neighed and the wind whistled!

The rider squeezed his legs against the horse's flanks and crouched low as it thundered along. The horse strained to run, but it was already exhausted.

The rider looked utterly bedraggled. His filthy leather robe and loose, long hair whipped wildly in the autumn wind. Sweat covered his dark, ruddy face. A closer look revealed that he was just a boy.

A longbow hung at his side, and he carried an oversized curved saber. His warhorse, which had been galloping for a long time, was already foaming at the mouth.

Sensing the horse slow down, the rider's dark, ruddy face filled with anxiety. He glanced back at the trails of dust drawing closer in the distance, near the setting sun, and cursed under his breath.

"Damn horse bandits!"

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.