Dawn broke, and the snow began to melt.
Fang Yang walked out of the monarch's tent and headed for the battle pet tempering grounds.
A month had now passed since his return to the army's main base.
He had also discovered that the Seventh Prince of the Great Xuan Dynasty and the White Tiger Demon Lord seemed to have genuinely come into conflict.
The attacks launched against the base had been all thunder and no lightning.
This outcome brought a faint joy to Fang Yang's heart, as refreshing as drinking ice water on a summer day.
Of course, he didn't grow arrogant because of this. He continued to proceed with caution and stability.
...
"SCREE—" "NEIGH—" "HISS—"
The moment Fang Yang arrived at the battle pet tempering grounds, his three battle pets—the White Feathered Eagle, the Small Frost Horse, and the Electric Python—scrambled to his side.
The White Feathered Eagle wore a dopey grin, flapping its wings to hover high in the air.
