I
n a battle, minutes felt like hours, and in peacetime, months felt like minutes. And to immortal cultivators, hours were more like seconds. And so, despite a month of relaxed travel, where distances exceeding the length of Lidus had been covered every day, all of it had passed far too quickly for Hadjar’s taste.
It wasn’t all that surprising that he wasn’t properly prepared enough, both in a mental — the Black General’s Inheritance was buried in the depths of his soul, and the destruction of the North Wind Country’s Inheritance hadn’t exactly affected him in the best way — and also physical sense for any new twists of fate, even though he didn’t believe in fate.
“This clearly wasn’t a death by natural causes.” Shiakh’Min made himself known with the sacred banner of the dragon faith.
