The Beili Army marched on.
Their morale was high, but not high enough to overcome the sand and grit that whipped their faces and filled their ears. The raging sandstorm made every step a struggle.
Suddenly, a soldier staggered and fell to his knees, having lost his balance from a sudden, powerful gust of wind.
Hu Lie yanked the soldier, whose head was now buried in a sand dune, back to his feet. "What is this hellish weather? You can't even open your mouth without getting a mouthful of sand." He spat out the grit in his mouth.
Hu Chen, who could read the skies, looked up and said worriedly, "From the looks of it, this wind will keep blowing for another three hours. And there are signs of snow, too."
The soldier wiped his face haphazardly and offered his thanks. "Thanks, brother."
Hearing Hu Chen's words, his face fell. "What? Not only do we have to fight this wind, but it's going to snow too? The heavens are not on our side."
