Creation of the Gods I · Conversa

The training grounds of Chaoge had been baked by the sun all day, and even by dusk, the ground was still scorching hot to step on. The Hostage Brigade withdrew to their camp. A dozen or so men stripped off their armor, their sweat-drenched shirts clinging to their backs; none of them looked any more dignified than the next. Chong Yingbiao tossed his halberd toward the weapon rack. It didn't settle securely and clattered to the ground with a loud clang, but he didn't bother to pick it up. E Shun took a step to the side to avoid being hit, earning a glare from Chong Yingbiao: "What are you dodging for? It won't hit you." "Even if it did, you'd say it didn't," E Shun muttered quietly before squatting by the well to draw water. Jiang Wenhuan sat under the corridor, trying to untie the knot on his wrist guards. The leather cord was tied in a dead knot; after struggling with it for a long while without success, he finally bit it through with his teeth. Ji Fa leaned against a pillar drinking water. The clay bowl in his hand was chipped, so he had to turn the rim to find a good angle to drink. Yin Jiao poked his head out of the barracks, his face still bearing the red marks from his afternoon nap, and announced that there would be meat in the kitchen tonight, asking who was going to secure a spot. "I'll go," Ji Fa said, setting down his bowl. "You never manage to grab the fatty pieces when you go," Chong Yingbiao said, already beginning to refasten his bracers, clearly preparing to make the trip himself. Su Quanxiao sat in the corner wiping his sword, not chiming in from start to finish. When he wiped near the tip, his fingers trembled slightly—though no one noticed. In the distance, the evening drums began to sound, and a thick, heavy sunset burned across the sky in the direction of Jizhou. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the direction of the conversation</choice> <choice id="2">Observe the current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>