Dusk slowly fell from the muddy and dark edges of the wilderness, as the pitch-black night gradually enveloped this land soaked with blood.
The sounds of gunfire had ceased for a while.
However, the enveloping fog that spread all around still hadn't dissipated. Instead, its coverage seemed to expand even further, from Old Man Kong's farmstead to the woods north of Town Of Hope.
Just after the barriers were removed not long ago, on the south side of the gate.
Standing by the muddy road, Ma Hechang kept looking in the direction of the Pinecone Wood Farm, and despite himself, he murmured a prayer to the Saint Heir above.
In the past, he could occasionally hear the voice of the Saint Heir.
But after the fog rose, he couldn't hear him anymore, for some unknown reason.
Filled with dread, he couldn't help but think of what Pastor Wei had said.
Perhaps...
The Saint Heir was really angry.
