A procession of Black-armored Iron Cavalry continued their march through the desert, with Shi Feng seated on the back of the Ghost Wolf as before, following behind them, eyes closed in cultivation.
As the sky darkened, the once scorching temperatures slowly cooled. By midnight, the desert temperature contrasted sharply with that of the day, feeling bitterly cold.
"Whoo...whoo...whoo..." The icy night wind blew, sounding eerily like a woman weeping, sinister and terrifying.
"Why is Long Xiaotian leading us this way?" someone among the Black-armored Iron Cavalry whispered.
"Shh, keep your voice down. Right now, he's a favorite in the eyes of that high-ranking official," his companion cautioned.
"But do you know what place this is?"
"What place is it?" the other asked.
