The glacier, sealed in ice for countless miles all year round, should have been an endless expanse of white, crystalline and cold.
Yet at this moment, it was a vermilion-red stretch.
As far as the eye could see, across countless miles, there was not a speck of white to be found.
Like blood-red mandrake flowers lining the Path to the Underworld, carpeting mountains and plains as far as the eye could see.
It was the red of blood soaked into the ice.
Corpses piled high, the air reeking of blood; floating bodies filled the frozen river.
Countless corpses lay strewn about.
At a glance, it even looked somewhat similar to the Karma Fire Realm beside it.
Both were the same blazing red.
Just one look was enough to feel the cruelty and desolation of this war.
Not even one or two out of ten had survived.
Yet those one or two who had survived now wore smiles utterly out of place on this battlefield.
They had won this war.
Even if it had been a narrow victory, victory was still victory.
His Excellency had said that once they won this war, they could go home!
Countless soldiers and generals in battle robes darted through the air above the glacier, spreading word of His Excellency's order to sound the retreat.
Laughter and cheers spread across the glacier, making the glaring blood-red everywhere seem, in a daze, like red ribbons hung upon them by their families to celebrate their triumphant return.
Some were already making ready at the encampment, prepared to set out.
A young man in silver armor hurried through the air before swiftly landing on a stretch of ice.
The spiritual ice of this land of extreme cold had frozen his little face red. Though he kept rubbing his hands