The smoke and dust dissipated, the flying snow abruptly stopped, and after ascending to the top, there lay a royal hall, half-ruined. The white-haired Maria sat on the throne, sleeping.
Just moments before, the raging winds were relentless, yet here it was disturbingly calm. Red cloths with patterns similar to family crests hung from the remnants of the walls and the dome ceiling. Through the cracked walls, one could see black mountain ranges undulating boundlessly across the vast plains.
White moonlight shone into the hall. Maria sat with one leg crossed over the other, leaning against the back of the throne, her head tilted to one side. Her saber was propped up beside her. Chen Ke noticed that Maria's chest did not rise or fall.
In his field of vision, Maria showed no outline on her body. Could she be dead? He slowly walked up the stairs, stopping two or three meters away to study Maria's face closely.
