Wild winds howled, and sand filled the sky. Beneath the orange-red setting sun, the scene evoked a lone column of smoke rising straight above the vast desert.
Yet no one could have imagined that, just an hour earlier, this place had been a grain-producing region within the Spirit Hall Empire, with vast stretches of fertile farmland, little bridges over flowing streams, countless lakes, and abundant fish and shrimp—a land of fish and rice renowned far and wide.
Now, however, that former land of fish and rice was being swallowed by the desert, inch by inch, at a speed visible to the naked eye, becoming a sea of sand stretching beyond the horizon.
The sun blazed, and blowing sand obscured all sight.
An army of the Spirit Hall Empire hurried across the desert, leaving footprints of varying depths in the sand. Every soldier ran desperately for his life, covered in dust, glancing back in terror from time to time as though something horrifying were pursuing them.
They looked like a band of deserters!
In truth, they were the last surviving soldiers from another city.
A sandstorm tornado swept toward them, connecting heaven and earth.
As though it possessed a mind of its own, the tornado deliberately trailed behind them, moving neither too quickly nor too slowly.
The soldiers of the Spirit Hall Empire kept running, running for their lives. When a magnificent city appeared on the horizon, with a flagpole on its walls flying the emblem of the Spirit Hall Empire, tears of joy filled their eyes. At last, they felt they would be saved.
But in the next instant, the sandstorm tornado behind them abruptly accelerated, sweeping every soldier into its embrace without resistance. Countless wind blades tore into them like a merciless meat grinder. Even though these soldiers averaged