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Reborn as a Hated Noble Family, We Start an Industrial Revolution - Chapter 111: The Wounded Dawn
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Chapter 110: The Tarnished Crown
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Chapter 112: Conductor of the Orchestra of Death
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... tercolor painting, its colors blurred and running under the onslaught of an invisible rain. The thick, white fog and the slow descent of snow from the Northveil sky clashed in a chaotic dance, creating a visual layer that was both opaque and suffocating. The first sound he registered as his consciousness crawled back from the abyss was not the triumphant blare of a war trumpet, but the erratic, frantic rhythm of his own heartbeat—a sound akin to an ancient steam engine whose pistons were starved ...
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