Northern Border, Zhenyuan Castle.
The leaden grey sky hung low, pressing down on the vast snowy plains.
The north wind whipped up tiny ice crystals, lashing against the mottled battlements of Zhenyuan Castle.
Garrison Commander Chen Zhenshan leaned against the cold brick wall, his knuckles turning white from exertion.
As far as the eye could see, the horizon at the edge of the snowfield was densely covered with black tent camps, like spreading frostbite, almost covering the entire view.
The flags of the Rashka Duchy coalition fluttered fiercely in the cold wind. Cossack cavalry wrapped in thick furs rode around the outer perimeter of the camp, occasionally shouting rough cries. One could even see small groups driving prey at the edge of the distant forest, leisurely as if hunting in their own backyard.
"General, this... this isn't right."
