The thin morning fog shrouded the desolate highlands, the damp cold wind sliced through like a blade, emitting a piercing howl, as if orchestrating the slaughter to come. On the highlands, the soldiers of the Laines Empire huddled trembling in the trenches, their uniforms tattered, stained with mud and blood.
The Tang Army's shells were precise and lethal, and those who hadn't collapsed by now had shown considerable bravery. However, as time dragged on, the positions they held had long lost their original shape.
"Damn this hellish weather..." a young soldier cursed under his breath, his lips purple with cold as his teeth chattered uncontrollably. It had drizzled again yesterday, and now the temperature in the fields was very low, the soil was extremely damp, and for the soldiers of the Laines Empire, such weather was truly torturous: "When will this damn war end, I'm so fucking done!"
