Solaburg on the lower reaches of the Mo'en River.
The sky was filled with white-gray clouds, and the oppressive humidity weighed down on the heads of the Falan guards, making it hard for them to lift their heads.
These Falan soldiers, recruited or hired from the Clove Corridor, had their thin clothing clinging wetly to their skin, shaking their heads painfully to avoid flies and mosquitoes.
Occasionally, they lifted their heads and looked at the distant dark castle, with helplessness and hatred alternating in their eyes.
On the dark green arrow tower, the bright red flag of the phoenix still fluttered in the hot wind. From a glance at the city head, one could always see the swaying heads of Black Snake Bay Warriors and Wizards behind the battlements.
Nearly two months had passed, and this castle still hadn't fallen.
Compared to the past, there were just many traces of fire and smoke on those black stones.
