The smoke and dust were rolling, and people with squinting eyes could not open them.
He only needed to take ten steps to clear the road and avoid the dust raised by the passing war horses, but Oliver Meng did not move.
His figure was overshadowed by cavalrymen one after another, and it seemed that he would be hit and broken in the next moment. But he was unaware of it, and just opened his eyes wide, looking at the wrinkles on the faces of those veterans and their cold eyes.
In fact, he didn't see it very clearly. The horses were running so fast that each veteran stayed in his sight for no more than a second. Most of it was just his imagination.
Yellow sand entered his eyes, his vision became increasingly blurred, and stimulated the secretion of tears in his eyes.
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