Chapter 927 Westbound All the Way

• The sun hung high.
• In the square of Ruizhulin Village, men and women, young and old, all in plain clothes, stood packed together, their eyes fixed on the Blood Clan steward on the platform—hate, fear, joy, rage, and relief all tangled in their gaze.
• Right now, that lofty Blood Clan steward was already a corpse—and a mangled one at that. But it wasn’t Lewis Snow who did it. The villagers had done it themselves. Still, without Lewis fanning the flames, these simple folks would never have dared.