In the expansive square, the wind and snow danced, as if a black and white army were entangled in a fierce battle. Although one side only consisted of three people, the seven constructs exuded the grandeur of a thousand troops.
In the chilling wind, Princess Rupert's brown braids cascaded like a waterfall as she raised her head, watching as the giants passed by her side, their dark blades dragging a trail of sparks.
The silver hands of the Axinman Witch crossed under Miss Tata's gaze like silver fire, as a metallic forest grew from the slates, piercing towards the sky. It was like two rows of thorns, separating this path ahead for the Princess.
She held her longsword with both hands, lowering the blade in the snowstorm, stopping her steps, and turning back to look. Fang Hong held the collar of his trench coat with one hand, walking up from behind, the lantern on his shoulder already lit, its orange glow slicing through the snow like a sharp sword.
