"Logosh, Rogos, you've left me with a big problem. There is a vast sea of people in the www.biquge.info of Pen, Fun, and Pavilion, where should I find her? Ryktar sighed unconsciously, his voice so small that even he couldn't tell it.

The orcs walked a little more against the sun, and as they spared the eighth dry pond, the suffocating air began to slowly cool down. Ryktar put his hand on his brow and looked into the distance, his broad green palm blocking out the dazzling sunlight, making the clouds on the horizon appear more clearly.

It's going to snow.

"Hell, pitch the tent! quick!" Ryktar spat and cursed as he panicked as he approached the sand lizard carrying the tent.

The other orcs also moved their hands crookedly, preferring to throw away their axes in order to avoid being baptized by the blizzard. It's ridiculous to say, the blazing earth and winds of the Bone Desert have created the orc's gritty qualities and rugged personalities, and their sandpaper-like green skin can withstand most of the damage from nature, except for frost and snow. Every orc experiencing winter for the first time is too scared to go out by the white crumbs, curled up by the fire, wrapped in a thin blanket of the whole family, and gulping down the hot ginger milk. Then, the horrors of the harsh winter will be planted in the heart of the shivering fellow, taking root and sprouting.

"Hurry up, guys! the kid can't survive the snow. Ryktar urged, using the handle of his axe as a hammer to smash the pointed stake into the sand. Maghan landed on the ground and tied the thick hemp rope that held the leather in place, and couldn't help but shudder.

In a short period of time, the heat wave dissipated without a trace, replaced by a bone-chilling chill. Scholars have been talking about the strange temperature changes in the Desert of Bones in winter, and many nerds who are willing to delve into the wonders of nature have been studying for decades and still can't answer the mysteries. The orcs were much simpler in their minds, and no green-skinned creature cared about the causes of winter, for the treacherous weather had taught them all there was to be a constant reverence for nature.

Under Ryktar's command, all the orcs hurried into the modest shelter, and it was customary for the chiefs to line up at the back of the line and seal the tents while hiding in them, both to protect them from the frost and snow and to prevent their tribesmen from leaving without permission and losing their lives. The young chief stood at the door of the tent, carefully counting the number of people, lest he miss any unfortunate one. His cautious gaze was eventually drawn to the constantly beating grains of sand on the ground—tiny pebbles jumping rhythmically, a phenomenon that was by no means caused by wind and snow. He looked back sharply and saw a group of giant sand lizards running wildly toward the tent in the direction of the dark clouds. Clearly, the orcs without tents were in desperate need of his rescue.

"Hey-" Ryktar beckoned to the stranger with a wave of his arms, wanting to help others in any way he could, even though his tent wasn't too big. Soon Ryktar's face changed, though, and he saw billowing smoke from behind the stranger's ass, like the smoke and dust kicked up by the knights of the Human Empire who had destroyed his homeland when they charged. "Come out, guys, some of our compatriots are being chased by human cavalry, we need to help. Ryktar said to his men as he lifted the tent's leather curtains.