The blizzard veiled the remote and narrow canyon.
The towering cliff walls blocked the sunlight from both sides; although it was noon, the inside of the canyon remained as dim as the twilight of dusk.
Boom—
A loud roar accompanied the noise.
A snow-white motorcycle, stained with crimson blood, burst through the barrier of the blizzard and landed in the quiet canyon; with a sharp turn and a sudden brake, it kicked up a large spray of snowflakes.
He Ao stepped off the motorcycle and stood on a rock covered with a thin layer of snow.
He crouched down, grabbed a handful of snowflakes revealing the crystal-clear grains mixed with specks of red that shimmered like jewels.
He Ao brought the clump of snowflakes to his nose; the faint scent of blood wafted through as he drew his broken sword, scattering the snowflakes at his feet to reveal the blood-red rock beneath.
This wasn't the rock's natural color; having been stained with life so often, it had naturally turned this color.
