It was snow-white all over, its mane resembling tiny ice shards, capable of refracting the moonlight, yet the mane looked soft, unlike the hardness of ice shards.
The layers of mane were like a watercolor painting, akin to fluffy clouds, though there wasn't a breath of wind, its mane gently floated with the aura emanating from its body.
This snow-white Behemoth was like the encounter of icy wind and moonlight, its eyes red to the point of somberness, like the brightest Ruby in the world, within which blood seemed to be flowing.
The Behemoth looked at Long Xiliang, devoid of hostility, only majesty and peace.
It also bore gigantic wings, which, when resting on the ground, left a thin layer of frost over the dense grass and wildflowers.
Long Xiliang stood beneath the Behemoth, and as he raised his head, he first saw a striking crimson silk draped over the Behemoth; his gaze followed the satin red silk upwards.
