As the snow increased, a layer of fine snow particles gradually piled up on the warrior's body. Though they were huddled in their cloaks, their sturdy bodies still endured the pervasive cold wind and the bone-chilling cold it bringed.

"Let's go!" the chief, looking at the overcast sky, finally blew a cloud of heat from his beard-covered lips as he cleaned the snow from his beard. The Quaid warrior, who was a little stiff, moved quickly. They scarried their weapons and furs and headed out of the wall.

These tall warriors stretched their legs wide and strode forward. The fluffy snow squeaked under their feet, and was gradually trampled into hard flat ground by the crowd walking by.

As the last warrior walked out of the camp, the heavy wooden gate slowly closed behind them, causing Riga to feel like his heart had been grabbed and twitched heavily. On the high wooden wall, more than a dozen heavily armed warriors watched vigilantly, guarding the safety of the camp. The most conspicuous of them was the figure with a half-inch brown beard and black-brown leather armor, the son of the chief, a strong and ambitious warrior. He had been learning from his father, hoping to take over the hammer from his father in the future.

As the most powerful warrior in the tribe, Chief Spain walked at the front of the line without hesitation. The bronze warhammer behind his back had been taken from his hands, and he knew deep into the depths of his knowledge that without the protection of the Horde's walls, every corner of the ice field could hide deadly dangers.

In fact, none of the Quaid warriors relaxed their tense spirits. As they walked through the snow, their eyes as sharp as knives, they swept every corner where they might be hiding wild beasts, and at the slightest movement, their sharp weapons would be drawn and slashed at the animals that scurried out.

The cunning and keen-eyed beasts also knew that these Quaids were not to be messed with, so when they saw the wriggling serpent moving forward or felt the vibrations coming from the ground, there would always be beasts wrapped in gray-white fur that would pop out of the snow and flee into the distance amid the Quaid's rage.

Salt-like snow particles continued to fall from the sky, confusing the Quaid people's vision. Still, these warriors who were familiar with the environment were able to easily find the hidden paths from the unmarked ground.

Riga hadn't had enough rest since the beginning of the trial, so the chief assigned him a strong, dwarf horse. The animal, about three feet tall at the shoulder, struggled to advance through the snow, its hooves pulling out of the snow and sinking into it. Riga reclined on a sleigh pulled slowly by the dwarf horses, her muscles relaxed and enjoying her hard-won sleep.

Dressed in a brown bearskin cloak, Garl was standing beside Riga's sleigh, his face visibly distressed, as if he wanted to complain about the speed of his advance. But the wind and snow that came from all directions kept hitting his face, so that Gal could only walk forward silently, and his footprints were getting deeper and deeper.

Sleep is a quick rejuvenation, and when Riga opens his eyes, he sees a blue sky as pure as jewels, and the wind and snow have already stopped while he sleeps. Before he could fully open his eyes, a face with long, tousled brown hair appeared in front of him, dispelling the last of his sleepiness.

"Riga, you're finally awake. The man reached out and grabbed the messy hair on the top of his head, then brushed a few grains of eye droppings from the corners of his eyes, and muttered after a huge yawn.

When the hunter was halfway up, he found himself sleeping under a tall birch tree, surrounded by other tribal warriors. A dozen burning fires gave them warmth, and the huddled warriors slept soundly.

Seven or eight of the night watchmen just glanced at Riga casually, then turned their heads, and then stared at the snow around them. The sentinels, who had only been on night duty since the end of the Black Moon, did not appear to be too tired.

Awakened, Riga immediately lifted the fur covering her body, got up from the sleigh, and moved her somewhat stiff body. And Gal swooped down in an instant, snatching the bed on the sleigh, and with a comfortable nasal voice, he shrank into the warm fur.

But Gar's sleep did not last long, for after less than a prayer, the Quaid warriors rose from the ground, stretched their numb and stiff bodies, and prepared to set out for the hunting grounds. After the rest of the six hourglasses, they had regained their full energy.

Breakfast is as simple as a few slices of grilled meat with a little mead. Before they could roast softly on the flame, a hungry Riga and the others swallowed the food they had been handed out in a few bites, and then set out on their way forward.

Under the sheikh's intimidation, the treacherous route of the valley was transformed into a safe and fast avenue. The heavily armed Quid ran along the smooth road, driving away the beasts along the way. At an astonishing speed, they soon reached the place where Riga had killed the snow ape. The staggering traces of the battle are almost gone. Once again, the ice field showed its strong strength to heal all the pain, and the only clue was a few small bumpy bones hidden under the falling snow.

Glancing at the ground without a hint of nostalgia, Riga then followed the pace of the group and walked forward. The tomahawk behind his back swayed with his body, as if expressing his desire to get rid of the shackles and drink blood.

The hunting ground at the very edge wasn't too far from where Rhega and Snow Ape had fought, so the Quaid warriors soon came to the low hill closest to it.

It is said to be a hill, but it is not so much a mound of earth about six or seven feet high.

The chief and several powerful warriors lay at the very top of the mound, their sharp eyes scanning the ground around them, as if to find the hidden orc sentry. Riga had told them about the sentries hiding around the orc camp, so the warriors were trying to hide their bodies from enemies with amazing eyesight.

They didn't have to wait long for the orc's trail to show up in Sparrow's sight. A hunting party of more than a dozen orc soldiers! After they left the forest, they were still frolicking in the snow, not noticing that there were more than a dozen pairs of murderous eyes around them.

As the orc squad rounded a dense pine forest, the soldiers finally focused on what was going on around them. But at this time, more than a dozen strong Quaid warriors suddenly emerged from the snow, brandishing the weapons in their hands and colliding with these orc soldiers.

These warriors, who were at least level three, knocked down the enemy in front of them in the blink of an eye, and the weapons in their hands slammed into the orcs' bodies, easily taking their lives.

Although the Quaid warriors had carefully controlled the dynamics of the battle, the screams of the soldiers before they were dying caught the attention of an orc sentry, who was covered in a layer of black and white fur and squirmed in the hidden pit, and soon saw the Quaid warriors severing the heads of their companions one by one.

As if a howling wind passed through the narrow gap between the two rocks, the sound of a horn with a deep and firm sound immediately sounded from the forest. Delivered to the Quid warrior and orc camps.

"It's been discovered!" Chief Spain roared angrily as he jumped out of the bushes where he was hiding. The tall warrior easily lifted the heavy warhammer in one hand and stood at the top of the low mound. A broad cloak unfolded behind his back, and his long maroon hair fluttered back, making him look like a furious beast that pounced on his enemies.

"Listen to the whispers of the cold wind and follow the footsteps of the wind and snow. Swing your bloodthirsty tomahawk and tear apart these brown-haired beasts that occupy our land in front of you!

The Quaid warriors, including Riga, immediately rushed out of the back of the mound, striding onto the ground in front of the mound, with a mad roar in their mouths, towards a gloomy forest.

As for the orc sentry who was still blowing his horn, the two warriors had separated from the flanks of the team and searched the dark grove with low bodies.

At the first moment of the trumpet, the orcs of the forest panicked into the wooden house where they lived, clutching their assigned rudimentary weapons in their hands, as if this was the only hope they could hope on. In stark contrast to the orcs were the Terran mercenaries. The warriors emerged from their tents in an extremely orderly manner, their bodies clad in tough leather armor and their sharp, sturdy weapons clutched.

When these elite Terran warriors quickly formed a simple defensive formation, the orcs also seemed to be infected with a trace of composure. There were too many of them, and they were spread out in a rectangular line, ready to withstand the onslaught of the enemy from beyond the forest.

When the Quaid warriors stormed into the forest, they didn't feel a trace of fatigue due to their physical strength. There were even some warriors who sped up their speed and leaped nimbly through the forest like snow rabbits.

When the orc's formation appeared in his eyes, a roar rang out from Chief Spain's mouth again. Immediately afterward, he rushed into the rectangular queue like a raging snow bear. Before that brute force was even more violent than the snow bear, the orc queue was torn in half in the blink of an eye. One by one, the orc soldiers were smashed open by the huge bronze hammer he wielded, screaming and falling to the ground, spitting out large mouthfuls of viscous blood. The brute force had shattered the soldiers' abdomen and threatened to lose their lives.

The Quaid warriors, who were following Spain's onboard, also rushed into the orc warriors, delivering them an even more lethal blow. Warhammers and axes slashed at their skin-wrapped bodies, with the strange sound of metal slicing through flesh and bones, sending fear to the rest of the orc soldiers. The soldiers, who had been abandoned by the clan, immediately began to retreat, and even the roars of the captains and the battle axes they swung at the deserters did not turn them back.

As the first soldier retreated, the orc's formation immediately collapsed as a whole. The orc soldiers also lost the courage to fight. Some of them collapsed and threw down their weapons, trembling and kneeling on the ground in surrender, but many more turned and fled, never wanting to stay in the area to fight again.

"Kill, kill!" the chief roared and slammed his hammer into the hard ground, causing the earth to tremble with fear. "Kill all these hateful enemies!"

But before he could finish speaking, a turquoise arrow suddenly shot from afar, grazing the chief's body. Several droplets of dark green liquid from the movement fell on Spain's leather armor, immediately 'zez' and sent a little pain on the mighty warrior's face.