The bone-chilling wind kneaded the rolling clouds, making the overcast skies over Autumn Dusk Island even denser.
Behind the withered walls and broken walls, the army headquarters stood solitary. The southernmost end of the third floor of this headquarters was Horn's study.
Entering the room and standing by the window, Mitney looked up, the clouds hanging so low as if they were about to press down on his head, making it hard to breathe.
Using rosin and tinder to light the peat iron stove, Horn snapped his fingers casually, and the fluorite lamps embedded in the walls and ceiling lit up successively.
Illuminated by the firelight and fluorescent light, the once dim study brightened.
"Mr. Mitney, please sit." Pulling over a hardwood-backed chair, Horn warmly invited Mitney to sit down.
Astonished by the suddenly lit fluorite lamps around him, Mitney expressed his thanks while slowly sitting down.
