Thunder and lightning roared across the sky and pierced the dark clouds, the blood-red smell permeated the dead and noisy ruins, and the wails and sword shadows that had just dissipated bloomed in the wind, and the accumulated remnants were hideous and terrifying, and the thick aura made people almost suffocate.

Hell is ugly because the devil's soul is there, while heaven is holy because under the eternal order, there is a numb shell.

He raised his hand and raised the flask, and swallowed the cold water into his throat, perhaps he should have brought some wine, even if it was a little more heroic for himself.

In the distance, there were one rubble after another, broken walls.

This is Zreta's last line of defense, and here's his battlefield alone.

Looking at the thousands of troops and horses advancing in the distance, he gently pulled out the black dagger pinned to his waist.

He was greeted by the forces of darkness.

The wafting breeze swept away the thick smell of blood in the battlefield, caressing his black hair.

The roar reached his ears, and he knew it was his own roar.

"Dawn of the Night" Chapter 1 Zretra is in the hand, please wait a moment,

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