The moonlight was cold as water, scattered across the barren wilderness. The night wind blew gently, bringing a hint of chill. The surroundings were silent; perhaps sensing the dangerous killing intent, even crickets and other insects dared not chirp. Behind a mound of earth, Luo Zheng lay quietly on the ground, frowning in thought, he listened intently with his ears, not missing any details. The enemy was too strong, and any underestimation was a ticket to death.
After waiting for a while, Luo Zheng couldn't detect any movement ahead. He looked around—a flat expanse with nothing to utilize. Luo Zheng grew suspicious, observing his surroundings with trepidation. Already five or six minutes had passed with no sound from the enemy, which made Luo Zheng even more tense. He couldn't help but take a deep breath; on the battlefield, when experts cross paths, it's often not about skill or luck, but about who loses composure first.
