Atop the fortress wall, Zheng Fan clutched a warmed wineskin, taking small sips purely for warmth.
Liang Cheng stood beside Zheng Fan, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
With Liang Cheng by his side, Zheng Fan felt a strong sense of security. At the same time, only Zheng Fan and the demon lords knew that deep within Green Willow Fortress, a truly devastating weapon lay dormant.
However, it was not convenient to reveal this weapon; it was best not to use it if avoidable, but it could, at the very least, ensure their survival.
The cold wind blew relentlessly, and Zheng Fan's eyelids began to droop. Drowsy.
Outside, it remained utterly quiet. He had no idea how many military camps those Qian soldiers had breached, much less if any general, in a spirit of sacrificing personal fortune for national salvation, had disregarded their own losses and stubbornly led their troops to engage the enemy.
