The voice was as weak as a faint thread, its sorrowful tone tugging at the heartstrings, eliciting involuntary compassion. This moaning seemed to be his profound repentance for past misdeeds, as well as a desperate cry against unjust fate.
Xie Luo Jia's eyes were full of regret, a regret like an impenetrable dark cloud weighing heavily on his heart.
But at this moment, Xie Luo Jia was powerless to change things, and could only silently await the final judgment of fate amidst this endless pain.
On this battlefield amidst storm and thunder, his fate was like a fragile candle in the wind, tottering and so vulnerable that it could be extinguished at any moment.
Memories of the past involuntarily surfaced in his mind—those once glorious and majestic moments had now turned into illusions, leaving only regret and lament over the unpredictability of fate.
