PREVIEW
... lling night wind mixed with the smell of gunpowder and blood from below continuously howled past Wesley Peterson and the four other lords, bringing a bone-chilling coldness.
At this moment, not far from them and their nearly 200 Tier 1 subordinates, was a well-organized, fully armed foreign race army.
At a glance, their numbers roughly estimated from the densely packed figures in the distance seemed almost equal to them.
At some point, waves of icy killing intent began to ...
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