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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.

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. Download File TuyetTrungHanDaoHanh_10.avi

The snow didn't just fall in Beiliang; it conquered. It blanketed the jagged peaks like a burial shroud, hiding the blood of the thousands who had fallen defending the northern gate. Lin Feng sat atop a weathered stone lion

"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." Lin Feng stood, the heavy silk of his