North of Moon City Fortress, a gigantic canyon stretched out like a line to the sky, seemingly carved by the axe of a Heavenly God. It spanned dozens of miles, a boundless expanse with swirling wind and snow.
Two black cloaks rustled in the wind and snow.
Wild Dog, cloaked, stood at the edge of the cliff, gazing into the distance.
The heavy snow obscured his vision.
The howling wind was as bitter as the wails of ghosts.
He gripped the drawstring of his cloak tightly and lifted his head, "The elite of the Fourth Legion have been placed in the rear..."
"...Hmm."
A deep, hoarse reply traveled through the cold wind and snow.
The voice was like the sound of a strike on a rusted iron drum.
It resonated for hundreds of meters, profoundly deep!
Looking up from the cliff, one would notice two figures, one large and one small... and although Wild Dog's stature was already massive, he appeared slender and weak like a child beside the other figure.
