The winter sun was warm, a crimson seal on the vast azure sky. Yet, it couldn't warm the countrymen's heavy, ice-cold hearts.
They had been defeated.
Defeated once again...
Was the nation on the brink of collapse?
This season was unlike any other, forever seared into their memories.
This winter was too cold, so cold it left people feeling lost.
In Hanyun Valley, countless camps stood erect, gathering hundreds of thousands of people. Yang Hu stood silently before the formations, hands behind his back, saying nothing.
In this season, there were no signs of life. The wind whipped up sand that nearly blinded the eye.
Yang Hu's tiger-like eyes blazed with brilliance.
