lt;lt;lt;Red-hearted

A man with bare feet, wearing a mask and carrying a bronze chest on his back, stood on the back of a flying hawk, silent as the wind. Or perhaps, his words were already lost in the flash of steel.,Within him, a warmth unlike any other, flared suddenly and swelled.,Now he stood before the remains of Zuo Guanglie. This arduous journey had finally reached its end—if that pile of flesh could still be called a body.。