The night in Old Dunling was like blue steel, cold and chilling, with every corner of the streets adorned with glistening droplets, reflecting the Iron Whales rolling in the sea of clouds, beams of light falling like lances, watching the earth.
The guards took a deep breath; this was just another ordinary day in their career, standing guard, securing, and then rotating shifts, a job they were incredibly familiar with. Yet, strangely, within such a familiar job and environment, they faintly sensed something, though the guards couldn't clearly identify it. They could only describe it simply as an underlying anxiety and unease.
Indeed, it felt like something was about to happen. Under this calm night, something awakened from the deepest darkness, twisting its grotesque body, with a nauseating smell, trying to crawl out of the Abyss of memories.
The unease in the guard's heart grew stronger. He rubbed his hand against the cold railing, and the icy touch cleared his mind a bit.
