Enemies of the Dead
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The black fog swept over from the horizon in the north.
An evil and cold aura had yet to approach, but it was already palpable in the air. Even with a temperature-regulating solar disk above their heads, they could still sense a chill.
It was the wind.
A breeze came from the black fog.
It carried a chill, and there were even tiny snowflakes in the wind that fluttered, frozen.
Although there was only a slight breeze, and with temperature control of the sun's disk, the cold was barely sensible–even the tiny snowflakes in the wind instantly dissipated into water vapor–it was bone-chilling.
That's right, a bone-chilling cold. One could sense it with their soul by mere sight.
At the castle on the top of the mountain.
The archers on the city wall were already on standby.