In the heart of the Great Desert.
Just when He Lihuo had fallen into endless despair, a turn of events suddenly occurred.
The sweeping wind could not suppress those calm footsteps.
One step,
One step.
Accompanied by a chime-like crisp sound, it rang out very clearly beside his ear.
His consciousness already blurring, He Lihuo instinctively turned his head to look.
The chime was still distinct amidst the raging wind.
A clear, casual voice followed, merging as one.
The tone was no better than that of a student in a schoolhouse, yet at this moment, in this place, under these circumstances, it had an unrestrained flair that made one irresistibly capitulate:
"The beacon fires burn ceaselessly, the campaigns never end."
"Fighting in the wilds till death, defeated horses cry to the heavens in grief. Black kites peck at human intestines, carrying them to hang on dry tree branches."
"Soldiers lie under grasses, Generals sadly could just be so."