Outside the border, the setting sun is as red as blood.
In the vast desert, smoke rises straight up, and the long river mirrors the round sun.
The massive crimson sunset seems to fill the entire sky, glaringly red and as if the vault of heaven itself is aflame, exaggeratedly so, more intense than provocative sunset clouds in films by a thousand times.
Golden armors and iron horses, the battlefield sinks into evening twilight.
Underneath that bloody sunset, countless beings shudder, biting down hard on their teeth, but their bodies still can't stop trembling. Fear reaches its peak, cold from head to toe, feeling as if even the air around them is frozen solid.
In the dome of heaven, the Horn of True Dragon is blown, producing a thunderous rumbling sound that shakes the entire frontier wilderness.
The sound of the Horn of True Dragon isn't the first time it has been heard. It had rung during the days of the Grand Red Sky, but it was never as shocking as it is now.