In the endless snowfield, the cold wind is brisk and the chill of the lame is penetrating.

But Lin Aoyu and the Mongolian War were even colder, and they could not stop trembling.

Ye Dun's every step is tormenting their reason. This feeling is like being too late. It's so painful that it's unbearable.

"Battle!" The Mongolian War suddenly drank, looked back at Lin Aoyu, and said, "This should be an independent space. Even if we have empty warships, we can not escape from this place. Only one war killed Ye Dun."

Lin Aoyu's heart trembled fiercely and his eyes glowed with cold light.

The Mongolian war is right. An...