The "Ten Thousand Victories" roars from the top of the walls of Panshi City had long been swallowed by the howling northern wind, leaving behind only a piercing chill like countless cold steel needles that pierced through heavy fur coats and drove deep into the marrow of the bones.
On the ramparts, the eyebrows and beards of the guards on duty were covered in white frost, making them look like ice sculptures; only their occasionally rolling eyeballs and the heavy plumes of white vapor they exhaled proved they were still alive.
Beneath their feet, the earth—repeatedly soaked in blood and frozen solid—exhibited an eerie dark red, hard as iron.
Chapter 297