Zhao Douan raised his hand and summoned the Spring God. After making the earth of the Capital return to spring, he transformed into a white arc of light and went straight westward.
Xiping Road, Luoxia Slope.
The morning sunlight spread evenly over this slope, which was higher in the east and lower in the west. Wisps of smoke rose from a small, ruined town on the slope that had long been burned and damaged by the fires of war.
At the highest point of the small town, Gongshu Tianyuan straddled his legs, sitting on a thick cannon barrel, his eyes vacant as he wiped the bloodstains off the barrel with a rag.
In just one year, the once genius magician had become significantly thinner, his filthy priest robe was covered in scorch marks from flames.
The bamboo tube that was once constantly by his side had long been lost in the war, and the "Heavenly Element Cannon" beneath him, which had once created a record against Prince Jing, was now riddled with scars.
The view moved backward.
