Fierce winds and smoke dominated the sky, and the pungent smell of blood permeated the scorched earth. The big tree was burned to the ground full of wooden stakes, and as soon as the wind passed, the charcoal lit up with scarlet patterns, and even the corpses nailed to them emitted a strange light.

The victorious Dead Winter army retreated with great fanfare, and they were to bring the noble prisoners of war back to the city deep in the jungle for a grand sacrifice of man and animal. Crows and vultures quacked and circled over the deserted battlefield.

The agile Xia children rushed into the charred battlefield and turned over the corpse of a Xia man, trying to identify their relatives for the rest of their lives. The children sobbed through gritted teeth, waved their arms away the vultures, and expertly ran between the corpses. Every now and then, a boy's heart-rending scream erupted in the wilderness, and they finally found their father.

In the silhouette of the remnant sun, a dejected god roamed the hills, and he frantically rummaged through every fire pit, recklessly asking every child who collected the corpses, but did not find the heroic girl. Under the silent gaze of the children, the grief kneels in the soft ashes, clutching a string of mutilated priestesses' headdresses. The hunched silhouette trembled in the sunset.

"Fire, I'm waiting for you in the ashes. "A word is like an arrow, and ten thousand arrows read through the heart. The sunset stretched the shadow of the gods, and the god of shepherd let out a heartbroken wail.

This scene is firmly remembered by the children.

When the wounded scream was issued, the mantle of the god soared into the sky, and the rich golden power blasted into the ashes, and after the fury and light dust were exhausted, the god of the shepherd rose to the sky, slashing the waves due west, and splashing in all directions.

Madrigal inspected the battlefield, and there was light dust left in the ashes. When the Land of Dead Winter invades the hot summer, there are gods to help in the war.

Once upon a time, Madrigal only wanted to create a brilliant culture and collect more films.

Now, the wrath of the god of the shepherd has gotten out of control, and the violent feast between the gods will end in violence.

In the latitudes of the Land of Dead Winter, the scorching sun is in the sky.

In the Forest of the Celestials, the majestic Pyramid of Zuma rises to the ground, reflecting pure gold light above the vegetation. The Tiger warriors of the Land of Dead Winter are smeared with the ashes of their victims, like two rows of black and white zebras. They shook their spears rhythmically, and the skulls dangling from the tips of the spears.

Aristocrats huddle at the base of the shady pyramid and gaze up at the ritual of the spire. The Great Witch Priest sat on the platform at the top of the pyramid, rinsing the obsidian dagger with clean water, and staring at the sundial above the sacrificial altar.

The sundial's shadow is still a little block away from the noon scale, which means that he will still be exposed to the scorching sun for some time. The Great Witch Priest licked his parched lips, he was dizzy from dehydration. But the first sacrifice had already been dragged up by the Tiger Warriors, and the stumbling sturdy man with a pair of long, domineering horns was none other than the most honorable prisoner of war in this war, the general of the Yanxia army.

Even though he was tortured to the point of blood, General Yan Xia's eyes were still wide with rage, and he struggled to try to assassinate the Great Witch Sacrifice with his long horns, but the two tiger warriors couldn't hold him down. The other four Tiger warriors pounced and pierced the victim's collarbone with two wooden sticks.

The general was pressed to the altar.

The Great Witch Priest numbly ignored the chatter of the sacrifice's curse. He carried a sharp obsidian dagger, passed through the struggling sacrifice, faced the forest under his feet, looked at the crowded crowd, opened his arms, and the gorgeous feathers on his back suddenly unfolded like a fan: "What is the meaning of life?"

The cry of the Great Witch Sacrifice was transmitted from the top of the Pyramid of Zuma to the ground. Warriors, nobles, and paupers in the shade of the trees saw the revered Great Witch Sacrifice tremble like chaff on the top of the tower, a signal that the Witch Sacrifice communicated with the gods. The people were boiling, and the overwhelming shouts startled a large flock of birds:

"Sacrifice!" "Sacrifice!" "Sacrifice!"

The general's hands and feet were chained to the altar. His flesh squeaked as he squeaked from the sun-burned altar, and he gritted his steel teeth and refused to scream.

The Great Witch Sacrifice swayed and trembled, and uttered a reverent cry: "What is the meaning of the sacrifice?"

"Make the Blood God stronger!" cries overturned several pergolas.

The Great Witch Priest screamed hoarsely, "What is the powerful gift of the Blood God?"

"Capture more chiefs!", "Kill more generals!", "Offer more sacrifices!" This time the answer was varied.

The sun moved to the zenith, and the sundial had completed its last square, and the shadow of the Great Witch Festival had completely returned, gathering into black dots at his feet.

The Great Witch priest walked to the altar, turned a deaf ear to the General's shouting, cursing, and struggles, and solemnly placed the obsidian dagger against the General's left chest.

The world suddenly fell silent, and the crowd in the hustle and bustle held their breath.

The Great Witch Priest skillfully and attentively sliced through the flesh and sawed off the ribs with an obsidian dagger, then reached into the general's body and groped. The general's eyes widened, his hands scratched at the altar, his feet plowed, and his body twitched one by one. After a while, the audience saw a beating heart being pulled out, and several straight veins were still attached to the body of the sacrifice.

The general became quiet, and the crimson stream flowed down the trough of the altar into the pyramid. At the moment when he lost his breath, a looming scarlet soul suddenly broke free from the corpse, like a beautiful piece of red silk fluttering in the air, like the notes of life.

The Great Witch Priest gently picked up the red membrane with an obsidian dagger and pressed it against the altar. The red membrane is captured by the bloodstream and flows down the blood trough and into the pyramid.

The blood-dripping obsidian dagger was held high, and the proud Great Witch Priest proclaimed to the people: "In the name of the immortal sun, we have sacrificed expensive sacrifices, and the blood god has become even stronger!"

"It's not enough!"

"More precious sacrifices are in the back!"

The urging was overwhelming.

The Great Witch Priest proudly let out a solemn cry: "The next sacrifice will bring heartfelt joy to the blood god! That is the pearl of the East China Sea, the beauty of the shore of Xiaoshui, the lord of the heavens, and the queen of the hot summer! She has both unique wisdom and once-in-a-lifetime beauty, let us open her white breast, let the most beautiful maiden on the earth become the slave of the blood god, and the joy of the gods will protect the pyramid of Zuma from falling!"

The city of boulders reverberated with deafening cheers.

A fair-skinned and elegant female captive, wearing chains, stumbles and is dragged up the pyramid.

She witnessed the whole process of the general's silent death. She did not curse, nor struggled, but stood dignified at the top of the pyramid, letting her white skirt rise and fall in the air, as if she was the master of the world, and the Great Witch Sacrifice was nothing more than a slave with a dagger.

The Great Witch Festival was finally noticed by this special sacrifice. He grinned dryly and asked suspiciously, "At the top of the majestic Pyramid of Zuma, at the core of the mighty Dead Winter Empire, don't you have the slightest awe and fear?"

The queen of hot summer curled her thin chapped lips mockingly, and her long eyelashes looked contemptuous: "I have mercy on you. ”

"?!" the Great Witch Festival couldn't understand.

"I believe in the One True God, who is the Shepherd of heaven and earth, and that all things are but His sheep and oxen. And he will come to my rescue. When the chariot of fire appears in the sky, his armor can rob the sun of its light, and you will all be wiped out in his wrath. The queen smiled sweetly, as if she had never doubted it.