The cold wind felt like blades, painfully cutting into faces.
Huge snowfall, whipped up by the fierce wind, danced chaotically between heaven and earth, covering the mountains and fields near the Goryeo border with a thick, deathly silent layer of silver white.
The visibility was desperately low, difficult to discern shapes from over ten paces away.
A squad of twenty elite soldiers from Great Xuan struggled through the snow fields, their steps deep and shallow.
They wore heavy woolen cloaks, with regulation cotton armor beneath, Yanling Sabers or hand axes strapped to their waists, and new-style flintlock guns slung across their backs.
