On the snowy plains, the frantic footsteps of the young man were as unstable as a kite with a broken string.
The sound of the bandits' footsteps was growing louder, like the summoning of the Death God.
From the moment he stepped onto this chaotic snowy land alone, he had made a mistake.
The rocks and ice fractures scattered on the snowy plain presented a slightly undulating terrain. The minute differences caused light to cast shallow shadows on them, revealing only a hint of grayish-white color. These rocks, both tough and sharp, varied in shape and were scattered on the snow, as if they were natural sculptures. However, for those not accustomed to living here, they were dangerous obstacles that were hard to see clearly.
Finally, the delayed steps of the young man tripped him onto the ground. Before he could stand up again, he was almost caught by a few burly men.
"Keep running?"