At the borders of Yanzhou, a large flock of crows swept over the crowd.
Hearing the cawing of the crows, people threw clods and stones at them—these were once the residents of Yanzhou City, living their daily lives. Although they had known about the long-standing friction between Da Chen and the Desert North, they never imagined that war would suddenly break out.
Afterward, they were displaced.
Perhaps this is war; war never brings anything good. At least for these common folks, war means leaving their homes and losing everything—of course, these people of Yanzhou also knew that the grassland people have already started to loot and revel in their homeland, and everything they lost would be plundered by the grassland people.
This was their understanding of war: something far more chaotic than natural disasters.
And for this reason, their gazes at the crows became all the more irritated.
"Caw—"
A crow hit by a stone screeched and flew hurriedly into the distance.
