Pale golden sunlight filtered through the clouds in mottled patches, falling upon land covered in ancient stones and ravines.
A crimson figure slowly walked between light and shadow.
Sweat ran down Lin Qiye's pale cheeks and dripped onto the scarred wounds beneath his cloak. Excruciating pain constantly battered his wavering consciousness.
With every step he took, his vision would blur into darkness. Then he would regain consciousness and take another step... He did not fly, because his six white wings were equally torn and bloody.
As he slowly approached Chenglong Pass, his image grew clearer in everyone's eyes. They could see his profile still smeared with blood, as well as his long fingers clenched around the hilt of his straight blade until the knuckles turned white.
Was the blood on his face his own?
It was probably Vishnu's, right?
Maybe some of it was his, but not much. He didn't look like he was that badly hurt.
Battle-damaged Commander Lin! I can handle this!!
His fingers are so long... I can really handle those hands!!
But the battle's over. Why is he still gripping so hard?
Maybe he hasn't killed enough? Or is he just naturally like that?
The silver fortress gradually enlarged in Lin Qiye's eyes, and his breathing became increasingly labored.
He had to keep his entire body tensed to force himself onward at a steady pace... Yet even so, his consciousness was already nearing its limit.
The aftermath of blood loss and severe organ damage constantly crashed against his mind. His legs felt as heavy as lead, forcing his steps to slow... The world before him seemed to be shrouded in crimson.
Why did he slow down?
Umm... did he get tired from walking?
The hell do you mean, tired from walking?! That's Commander Lin! Would