Bursts of thunder resounded above Wuxing Mountain.0

Winter thunderstorms were rare. Among the common folk, it was seen as an ominous sign.0

For the Black Robes stationed on the outskirts of Wuxing Mountain, this was an ill omen.0

They were already resentful for being stuck guarding Wuxing Mountain instead of going home for the New Year. Now that they saw this bad sign, their hearts became restless.0

There was no helping it. Compared to the Black Robes on the frontier, the fighting spirit of the Divine Central Guards was like that of pampered flowerbed Daoists, clearly inferior. Yet thanks to their superior equipment—firearms, armor, and horses—as well as their number of high-ranking officers, the Divine Central Guard’s reputation still held strong.0

Xing Nian was on duty that night, carrying a long rifle on his back and a saber at his waist while riding his horse on patrol. The north was already cold, and nighttime was even worse. Water froze into ice in a few seconds. The night wind was not merely chilly but bone-piercing. Even wrapped in a heavy cloak, sitting on horseback for long made the body stiff. One could only rely on cultivation to endure such freezing...0