Roasted Venison
Gripping the Xuanyuan Sword tightly, Lin Mo approached quietly. She squinted, using the train's headlights to penetrate the flying snow and examine carefully.
As the distance narrowed, the outlines of animals moving in the snow gradually became clear. Slender bodies, long limbs, and antler stubs that hadn't fully shed—they were indeed deer. But they appeared more robust than ordinary deer, leaping easily to avoid deep snow, as if already adapted to the apocalyptic winter.
The herd seemed to sense danger and raised their heads warily. Just as they panicked and bolted, Lin Mo's eyes sharpened and she decisively swung her sword.
The Xuanyuan Sword carved a sharp arc through the air.
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