For the umpteenth time, I looked back, and the lights of the Danyang had already disappeared. Only a few remaining torches on the horizon still flickered.
Wang Yunxiao was left with fewer than thirty navy soldiers by his side; the rest had silently vanished into the desert.
This was the fifth… or perhaps the sixth time he'd encountered the white tower standing solitary in the desert.
The interior of the white tower was actually inscribed with text, though he hadn't noticed at first.
The ground floor of the white tower was accessible, with dense inscriptions covering the walls, and he could now recognize more than eighty percent of these characters.
The text was extremely straightforward, seemingly afraid that future generations would struggle to comprehend, hence it was written in the most plain and simple language, narrating the history of the white tower.
It was divided into three parts.
