The sky was crimson — not because that was its natural state, but because of something else entirely.
Nox slowly shifted his gaze to the corpses. They were fresh, which meant they had just been killed. From the pile of bodies, a crimson mist was slowly rising into the sky.
His mouth hung open — it was the first time he had seen such a sight. The air tasted metallic, which only made the scene even more disturbing.
'Is this a dream or reality?' Nox was now seriously doubting his perception. His mind had become foggy, making it hard for him to differentiate between illusion and truth.
Since standing in one place wouldn't help matters, he took a step forward, walking over the corpses littering the ground.
The bodies didn't really freak him out; he was accustomed to scenes like this, having been in several battlefields. However, what unsettled him was the sheer number.
Even if the entire Cromwell Kingdom were stacked together, they wouldn't be able to make mountains as high as this.
