Leaving
Editor: Atlas Studios
The early winter winds in Imperial City were strong and cutting.
Outside the city, the soldiers of both sides were at an impasse.
As time passed, the 5,000 elite soldiers stood under the evening sun, a heavy, lethal tension in the air.
If one stared any longer, one could practically smell the mixture of sand and blood in the air.
The imperial guards on the city walls were fully armored, and a tall man in black armor was standing right in the middle. He was the second in command of the imperial guards—Zhao Ming!
Since Chu Ning was not around, he was now in charge of the imperial guards.
He stared straight ahead as he called out, "Where is Lieutenant Wei Lin of the Northwest Army?!"
His low, powerful voice spread instantly!
A man in red armor stepped forward. "I'm here!"
This was an extremely muscular man. He looked about 30 years old, and he had a beard on him. He looked extremely intimidating.