When the constellations fell upon the Bai Feng Plain, dew was forming among the wild grasses.
At midnight, the sky dome displayed a color between mystic iron and crow blue, with stars scattered like grains of salt on an endless dark silk fabric.
There was no wind, yet broken flags trembled slightly, with drops of fresh blood falling from the banners into the muddy ground.
Everywhere around were dismembered limbs, shattered shield fragments, helmets half-buried in the earth, and shell casings piled upon the ground...
Mei Lin stood beside several bodies intertwined together, his expression somewhat blank.
After the battle was over, he was lucky not to be seriously injured, but his entire body ached as if it were dying, with a strong hunger emanating from the implant within him.
"Cough, cough, cough, cough!"
The severe coughing startled the bewildered Mei Lin, who quickly turned around to look; Old Man Yao was leaning against several corpses, slumped on the ground.
