"Give it to me."
Qin An was only sixteen years old this year, serving as Qin Hu's personal page. Naturally frail and already worn down past his limits by the relentless torment, he looked as though he had only one breath left in him.
In truth, Qin Hu was in little better shape. Over the past few days, the Vanguard Camp had been marching thirty miles daily, shouldering tasks like clearing paths through mountains, bridging rivers, chopping firewood, stoking fires, digging trenches, hauling water, and pitching encampments.
Chapter 599