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Lin Feng stood, the heavy silk of his white robe snapping in the wind. He didn't look back at the warm hearth inside or the maps of a kingdom that had abandoned him. He drew his blade. The steel hummed, a low, vibrating note that seemed to command the very storm to pause.

With a single strike, he carved a line into the frozen earth—a boundary no man would cross and live. As the horizon darkened with the silhouette of ten thousand enemy banners, the "useless" son of Beiliang stepped into the blizzard, his sword glowing with a cold, pale light that promised a winter the world would never forget. Download File TuyetTrungHanDaoHanh_10.avi

A lone rider emerged from the white haze. The horse’s breath came in ragged plumes, and the rider’s armor was shattered, held together only by frozen mud and sheer will. Lin Feng stood, the heavy silk of his

Lin Feng sat atop a weathered stone lion at the entrance of the empty fortress, his fingers tracing the frost-covered hilt of the Winter’s Sigh . He wasn’t a prince, and he wasn’t a saint. He was the son of a disgraced general, left behind to watch a border that the capital had long since forgotten. The steel hummed, a low, vibrating note that

"The capital thinks Beiliang is a wall of stone," Lin Feng whispered, his voice cutting through the gale. "They forget that Beiliang is a wall of men. If they want this land to be a grave, we will make sure it belongs to the invaders."

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