Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty-Three: Marquis Wucheng
Tonight, there is no snow.
On the vast black snowfield, the bonfires among the endless stretch of white tents twinkled like stars, their warmth radiating and illuminating everything around them.
In the Extreme Black Lands, there is no distinction between day and night, but ensuring ample rest for the soldiers to maintain their combat strength is necessary.
Special tents designed to keep out the snow were tightly sealed, blocking the biting cold of the Extreme Black Lands, and between the large encampments, all was silent except for the crunching of the night patrol's boots on the snow and their quiet conversations.
Suddenly,
the tranquility under the heavens was shattered by a streak of light that tore through the sky.
The sonic boom caused by the piercing flight reverberated in the distant skies, but as the streak of light approached the Northern Border's encampment, it gradually slowed down and finally arrived above the tents without a sound.