Meng Chao's gaze swept past the countless spoils of war casually.
Every spoils of war caused a faded image to appear in front of his eyes.
Behind every picture was a soul-stirring battle, battle, and even war that was remembered by the world.
However, to Meng Chao, those were just insignificant footprints that he left behind when he rushed forward on his endless journey.
It had been a long time since he had thought of such trivial matters.
Even putting these spoils of war in his bedroom and showing them off like a nouveau riche was not his original intention.
In particular, many of the spoils of war were surrounded by the remnant souls of the losers and the dead. They often let out shrill cries in the middle of the night. Although they could not hurt him at all, they easily disturbed his dreams and made him feel bad when he woke up early.
