The outskirts to the east of the City of Thousand Pillars.
Serpentine trenches twisted like contorted centipedes, etched into the position, brutally bisecting the land into two halves.
Soldiers in steel helmets stood tensely in the trenches, hands tightly gripping their rifles, leaning forward, eyes narrowed, and fixated on the wasteland ahead.
Even though it was a rare sunny day in the rainy season, an invisible dark cloud weighed heavily atop everyone's head, suffocating not only the soldiers in the trenches but also the fish in the Everflow River.
Within the front-line observation post.
General Arai Yang's brows were tightly furrowed as he stared intently at the distant dirt mound.
The corners of his eyes were deeply wrinkled, the dark bags under his eyes slightly swollen, pupils murky like the waters of the Everflow River, with hints of silver at his temples. His haggard face seemed to have aged a dozen years overnight, starkly contrasting the vigor of just a week earlier.
