Northern border, Canglang Pass.
The wind in December carried bits of snow, blowing in from outside the pass and hitting the faces of 30,000 soldiers. No one blinked, no one moved.
This pass has buried too many bones, fed too many crows, and poured too much blood. For ten years, none of the enemies who came in from here made it out alive.
Those who guard this barrier stand at the front.
Ye Feng.
Twenty-six years old, he is the only titled God of War in the North, codenamed "Kunlun".
He's not wearing armor today. An old shirt that has been washed white, buttoned to the second button, and the cuffs rolled up twice. Her hair was much longer than the length allowed by military regulations, and it was blown into a mess by the wind.
When thirty thousand people knelt down, the ground shook.
"Commander!"
"Stay!"
