Cold.
Ever since Qing Chen became a knight, it had been a long time since he felt such coldness.
The wounds on his body were not healing easily; at this moment, Qing Chen's combat ability might not even match that of an ordinary genetic warrior.
On the road, even if Qing Chen wanted to struggle not to walk, it was futile against someone like Jindai Yunhe, an A-Class.
The other could effortlessly pick him up with one hand, and if Qing Chen stopped moving, the other would tug at the hemp rope tied to Qing Chen's wrist shackle, forcibly dragging him across the ground as he walked, without much effort.
Jindai Yunhe did not take the main road.
The path they followed seemed to have been planned long ago.
They precisely cut through the wilderness, heading north.
Qing Chen saw small pathways in the mountains, some of which were on cliffs and only wide enough for two or three people to pass.
