At dawn, Xia Fei emerged from the Wind Garden's storehouse, his expression rather tired.
The morning mist had yet to disperse, but the Wind Garden was already busy. Nobody spoke, the Skywing elites silently gathering in the rear garden. Everyone had put away their hobbies and found a corner to close their eyes and rest.
Xia Fei was polishing a pair of serpent blades, again and again. Even when these blades were so bright that they could be used as mirrors, he continued to polish them. Xia Fei knew that he was trying to relieve the tension in his heart.
Upon seeing Xia Fei enter the rear garden, everyone nodded at him but still said nothing. There was a sullen silence in Wind Garden, a state of pre-battle build-up, energy waiting to erupt at the right moment, an oppressive and resolved mood.
"It seems like they are nursing some other worries?" Oro was surprised and told Xia Fei. "This mood is far too oppressive; I can almost smell the blood in the air."
