Silence.
Deathly silence.
The square, where hundreds of thousands were gathered, was eerily quiet.
Eyes abruptly contracted, first looking in horror at the dozens of corpses gradually covered by the falling snow, then falling collectively on the figure of the young man in white.
With one hand he captured and with one hand he held a sword, standing silently amidst the wind and snow.
His robe danced in the wind.
Majestic as a mountain, his canopy like clouds.
With the strength of one man, he dominated entirely.
In a trance, many people seemed to see a War God standing mighty amidst the red dust of the world!
None but him, no king!
"Well?" Chen Yang released his grip, looking down at Li Hao who had fallen to the ground.
"Cough, cough."
Li Hao stiffly raised a hand, pressing on his neck as if trying to alleviate the pain, but it was futile.
Severe coughing spewed out blood like a blood arrow.
His face was ashen, his pupils dull.
Suddenly he realized.
