Book Synopsis
At dusk, the setting sun bled like a wound, staining the entire horizon and casting a crimson hue over the chaotic battlefield beneath the city walls. The air was thick with the nauseating scent of blood, mingled with the stench of charred flesh and earth.
"Report to the General, Huo Qing's vanguard has reached ten miles outside the city and is expected to arrive by dawn tomorrow," the Messenger's voice trembled slightly, clearly shaken by the scene before him.
"Understood. You may leave," the portly man said without looking up from the intelligence report in his hands, his tone calm as if indifferent to the impending war. "Magic Crystal Catapult..." he murmured, repeating the name softly, a mocking smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "Interesting. It seems our opponents are determined to fight to the bitter end this time."
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