The cold metallic smell, mixed with the foul smell of broken internal organs, poured roughly into Gu Cheng's mouth and nose.
He opened his eyes suddenly, his vision blurry and dark red.
It's not the blood color, it's the dizziness caused by the lack of Qi and blood after lying down for too long.
What was beneath him was not frozen soil, but something soft, sticky, and bumpy—a corpse of a fellow comrade who had been trampled into a shapeless shape became his only "mattress" at the moment.
A bone-chilling chill penetrated from the limbs to the bones, and was more biting than the twelfth lunar month wind in the north.
He moved his fingers, and felt a stiff touch on his fingertips, as well as a slippery coldness - blood, which had long been frozen into a dark red ice shell, sticking half of his body to the pile of corpses under him.
The Black Wind Gate... Was lost.
