Just into the spring, there is still a sharp cold wind blowing in the night, a piece of black smoke like clouds rushed past the miserable blue crescent moon, the world is full of an uneasy atmosphere. With the outbreak of the all-round battle, the wind is easy to blow freely, and the woods around are dancing wildly, like a ghost dancing up and down, devouring people. I don't know where there are a few howls of passion from wild dogs. From time to time in the battlefield, there are fierce and cold screams drifting away with the wind. A deep chill covers everyone's head.

the sandstorm is all over...