Mourinho stared directly at the blood-soaked battlefield below the city wall, his gaze calm. The air started to become humid, like silk soaked in water, suffocatingly heavy.
A wind arose, rustling loudly through the silent pine forest. The Swan High Priest shook his platinum blond hair, letting his golden robe flutter in the wind of the endless winter night.
The last ray of the setting sun finally disappeared from the horizon. Ghostly white mist, like smoke, silently spread around Caiyu City. In mere moments, the wild grass, vines, ancient pines, and the demon army outside the city were cloaked in a milky veil, even the blood-drenched ground was completely covered.
The thick frost mist had actually started at dusk, but it wasn't until the sun set that it suddenly thickened, as if it too favored a world ruled by darkness.
