December 12th.
Beifeng City was covered in a blanket of silver, with snowflakes fluttering down into the bustling city.
Divine·Beifeng had fallen on December 3rd, exactly nine days ago, yet the ancient city remained crowded, with a large gathering of North Wind believers.
Some had come specifically to mourn Beifeng.
People knelt and bowed in the direction where the Divine Sculpture of Beifeng had vanished, sending Lord God on his final journey.
Some were unable to accept the death of Lord Beifeng, holding onto a faint and unrealistic hope deep in their hearts.
Deceiving themselves, they desperately awaited a miracle.
Others were unwilling to leave the sect, feeling that only among the crowds in this darkest hour could they find a sense of safety and solace.
The atmosphere in the city was oppressively terrifying.
Hu Jiaojiao, her face full of worry, was leading a team on patrol to maintain order in the city.
