Immediately, Ata's smile became even more sinister because he had guessed:

The people living in those houses must be the thieves responsible for night duty;

Those poor and despicable fellows would be mercilessly consumed by the roaring flames while they slept.

He listened carefully and indeed heard the pitiful cries of those wretches before they met their end;

But as chaos reigned all around, no one had the time to spare a thought for them.

Amidst the shouts of the thieves behind him, Ata had already sped off to another street, where he made an unexpected discovery in front of a house—a large pile of highly flammable pine wood;

He shifted his body, nearly parallel to the ground, and grabbed a large bundle;

Then, with the torch in his hand, he lit them one by one before hurling them onto the rooftops of each house;

The fierce flames spread rampantly, their expansion even more astonishing now.

In the world of inferno and thick smoke, Ata darted around, with the thieves gradually becoming smarter, employing encirclement tactics to chase him down;

Some of the fellows, fearless of the flames, climbed onto rooftops and leaped down towards their target.

Evading them with a light chuckle, Ata resorted to eerie techniques when unavoidable, severing a hand or leg, and then trampling over them by horseback.

After another round, Ata finally found the thieves' stable to the south, where he hurled pine branches aflame one after another into the stable before deftly opening all the stable gates.

The startled herd of horses surged forward like mad towards their owners.

Numerous thieves, dulled by excessive panic, were instantly trampled by the stampeding horses, reduced to unrecognizable piles of mud.

Nearly two thousand frenzied wild horses galloped wildly, what an astounding spectacle it was!

The thieves were dumbfounded, reaching into their pockets and sounding alarm whistles, with secondary and primary danger alarm sounds echoing incessantly through the village.

The thieves near the stable saw the approaching herd of horses and frantically fled forward, toppling fellow thieves slower than them in their desperate bid for survival, then stomping heavily over them.

The slower thieves, not killed by the enemy, were first pushed down by their comrades and already lay gasping under their boots before the herd arrived.

Ata moved to various entrances of the village, intending to bolt the gates;

Yet he soon found out:

The thieves had been thorough in ensuring he couldn't escape, having already securely fastened all the gates.

Satisfied, he laughed and rode back, galloping towards the town center once more.

For a moment, the whole town was filled with the roars of anger, the wails of despair, the crackling of roaring flames, the panicked whinnies of horses, and the thundering hooves.

Amidst the chaotic cacophony, a gust of wind timely blew through, further fanning the spread of the fire, terrifying deathly aura swiftly taking over the entire town.

At this point, the thieves were completely at their wits' end.

In this moment, they were like a group of bandits lacking leadership, running around in panic and shouting in the corners of the village.

The pine needles kept flying out of Ata's pocket, piercing the weakest spots in the horses' ears, keeping the herd in a frenzied state, running amok.

The number of thieves trampled to death by their own horses was skyrocketing terrifyingly fast.

Ata snatched a large knife from a thief lunging at him, swiftly chopped off the guy's shoulder, then, with the reins in hand, turned around and charged back toward the band of thieves pursuing him from behind.

Like a hungry lion plunging into a flock of sheep, Ata could chop off a vital part of his opponent with each strike, be it a hand, a foot, or a crucial organ; this precise and terrifying swordsmanship was like nothing the thieves had ever seen.

Most frightening of all was this "demonic figure on horseback," seemed to know exactly where each pressure point on the human body lay; his strikes only injured, never killed, yet thieves dropped to the ground beneath his blade, writhing in agony.

This was the demon sent by the gods to torment them!

After several waves of suicidal charges, the thieves suddenly had an awakening; realizing this, they began to scatter in all directions, like a pack of frightened stray dogs, seeking places to hide in the villages.

Of course, there were also clever ones who remembered to flee through the gates; however, as they neared the gates, they remembered their comrades had earlier securely bolted them shut; hastily they climbed onto the low walls of the town, hoping to escape outside.

Yet Ata had been keeping a sharp eye on all elevated points, and as soon as someone climbed up, his needle-sharp leaves would mercilessly fly out.

To show appreciation for the clever ones, every time he threw those sharp leaves, it often resulted in instantaneous throat-sealing.

The thieves' hearts were now filled with extreme panic; meanwhile, a raging inferno was at its peak, buildings were collapsing everywhere, crushing group after group of thieves; horses ran wild in the streets and alleys in a more untamed way than wild horses.

Some thieves tried to mount the horses to tame them, only to be ruthlessly thrown off, trampled into masses of reddish mud by the beasts they tried to conquer.

Yet the most terrifying was the demonic figure on horseback, anyone who encountered him would face a pain a hundred times worse than death.

Seeing the plight of their companions, the thieves became a bit wiser; if the pursuers caught up from behind, they would rather confront the rampaging horses than face this demon.

The arrival of doomsday probably looked something like this.

Everywhere there were people in a fate worse than death, cries of despair were incessant; the thieves' eyes searched in all directions, but found no safe haven;

the fiery blaze and the wild horses, along with their helpless comrades, occupied every inch of space, leaving them with nowhere to escape…

Lando von Gang led his team of thieves back from outside, and when they saw the flickering flames on the horizon, their pace quickened; the thunderous sound of the galloping horses was so loud that even in the village, Ata could vaguely hear the "thunderous" hoofbeats coming from the southwest.

At this moment, the village appeared as if the apocalypse had arrived.

The blazing fire still crackled and burned, the wild horses still ran rampant, and the streets and alleys were littered with bodies in various stages of death.

Compared to their still-living comrades, these bodies were quite fortunate during their lives.

The thieves, moaning in agony, wished for the grim reaper to take them away immediately.

Hearing the distant sound of hooves, Ata fiercely pulled the reins, causing the white horse's front hooves to rear up high; he turned the horse's head and galloped straight towards the rampaging herd.

With a resounding crash, the tightly locked gates of the village were smashed open by Lando von Gang and his men.

As the thieves entered the village, the scenes that unfolded before them were truly shocking.

The village had turned into ruins, with collapsed houses everywhere, still bearing unextinguished flames; corpses filled the area, interspersed with the desperate groans of the wounded, causing inexplicable palpitations in their hearts.

They stared in disbelief at everything before them, especially Landaufeng, a man with a big beard, who was breathing heavily, his eyes almost spitting fire. Behind Landaufeng stood a leader, who exclaimed in horror, "Almost all of our two thousand brothers are gone. Could it be Sero or Dibiles' regular army that came here and swept through?"

Another man, observing the mutilated bodies, said in a deep voice, "Such brutal tactics, not like those of a regular army. Could it have been done by our own kind?"

Just as the thieves' leaders were speculating, Ata slowly gathered all the frenzied horses, leading them out through another gate; he circled twice, then, as if questioning himself if he could control them and charge in the same direction, he made a dash back through the gate.

In the eyes of the thieves, at the end of the long street, a large troop of cavalry was vaguely charging from the depths of the sandstorm. The sound of their rapid and orderly hoofbeats chilled everyone to the bone.

Ata held a horsewhip in his left hand and tightly gripped a long-handled machete in his right hand; with the momentum of the sandstorm, displaying the courage to face an army alone, he led a group of semi-rabid wild horses straight towards the approaching enemy army of nearly a thousand thieves.

One thief leader immediately roared, "Brothers, line up and prepare for battle! Show your courage and resolve, don't let the boss down!"

The thieves behind the leader, seeing what seemed like an endless stream of men and horses surging towards them, were already beginning to lose nerve; but being ruthless criminals who lived by the blade every day, if pushed to the edge, they were capable of doing anything.

In the rallying cry of their leader, the thieves resoundingly agreed, their momentum equally impressive. "I'll fight you to the death!"

Similarly, after a loud roar, Landaufeng took down a pair of huge axes from his saddle, spurred his horse and charged out first, heading straight for the blurry figures in the sandstorm. As the sandstorm intensified, the surroundings became even hazier.

Ata remained composed, smiling as he rode forward, his machete slashing straight at the incoming figure. He intended to split the person in front of him alive from the horse as a show of strength; however, to his surprise, the person blocked his attack with a pair of huge axes, causing a small dent in Ata's machete.

Ata's hand numbed, his heart filled with shock; he thought to himself, "This guy has immense strength to block my full force. Could this person be Landaufeng?"

The shock in Landaufeng's heart, however, surpassed Ata's; since he became famous, it was rare for anyone to hold on to their weapon after clashing with him. Yet the opponent he just fought with not only held on firmly but also shook his hands so much that he almost couldn't hold the axes; he faintly saw that the opponent seemed to be a young man in his twenties, where did this formidable person come from?