The next day, as the light of dawn emerged, it was like the earth returning to spring, sweeping away the lingering haze.
Golden light swept from east to west, spreading over the Ghost Cry Mountain which hadn't seen sunlight for days.
The great battle concluded, smoke wafted away, transforming into a light gray mist. From a high vantage point, the entire forest mountain appeared beaten into broken walls and ruins, a desolate silence.
Corpses of war horses littered the valleys everywhere; cracked helmets and shattered Heart Protection Mirrors embedded in the scorched earth, reflecting the broken cold light. The slanted banners were as dense as a forest left in ruins, the broken King's Flags were askew, blood-stained and hanging feebly, with only the edges fluttering gently in the breeze. Broken blades, shattered swords intertwined with bodies...
The scene was indeed tragic!
This battle lasted all night, and now the final cleanup was underway.
