Frosty Winter Snowfield.
Amidst the swirling snow, Jiang Cheng carried the Overlord Sword on his back, and Xia Sheng marched forward against the wind and snow.
The vast plain ahead was devoured by endless whiteness, the howling wind like a wild beast, screeching and raging, the sharp sound piercing the ears.
As far as the eye could see, it was all a monotonous stretch of white. After looking at it for a long time, Jiang Cheng felt waves of aesthetic fatigue in his heart.
Compared to the Colorful Mist Coast and the Senluo Forest Region, the only things worth admiring in the Frosty Winter Snowfield were the star-studded night sky and the ethereal colored auroras.
During this time, the Overlord Sword continuously inquired about the two men's past information.
Jiang Cheng was prepared for this.
Before coming, he had already prepared their background story.
"So, only the three of you remain from your race?" The Overlord Sword's hoarse voice sounded in the ears of both men.
