Finding that Rigga's eyes were fixed on her towering chest, the female warrior's originally relaxed face immediately tensed, and her hands with brown deerskin gloves slowly pressed against her waist. There, the handle of the cutlass wrapped in two strips of cloth hung diagonally from the belt.

"A girl as beautiful as an ice orchid, you don't have to be so excited. After keenly noticing the movements of the female warrior, Riga immediately withdrew his gaze, shook his shoulders with ease, and shook off the snowflake path attached to it. "At least we're not enemies right now. ”

"I don't trust someone I don't know, even if he's my kind. With her hands quickly on the hilt of her sword, the female warrior squinted her eyes slightly despite Riga's explanation, and a hint of danger leaked out of her azure eyes.

"I am Riga from the Sparin tribe, grandson of Thorne. Stretching out her hands and crossing them over her chest, Riga solemnly saluted the warrior with the most respectful salute of the Quaids, and then defended herself: "I think you can trust me as you trust your own hands." "The Quid people who live near the hills belong to a large tribe called Frostbears, but in order to distinguish each other from the other, the name of each small tribe always changes with the name of the chief, and the current patriarch of the Rriga tribe is Sparin.

Hearing Rigga's explanation, the female warrior relaxed a little, but did not completely let go of the hand holding the scimitar. "Are you a warrior in the coming-of-age trial?" the slender fingers wrapped in deerskin gloves tapped Riga twice, and the female warrior asked with some suspicion. But when she saw the clan crest on the hunter's forehead, which was obscured by broken hair, she immediately saluted Riga with her hands crossed over her chest as if she were afraid of being misunderstood, and explained, "I'm sorry, I'm Monica from the Sopa tribe. Compared to other people your age, you seem to be a little too tall. ”

"Of course I'm a trialist. The hunter's face froze, but within half a breath he replied, raising his right arm slightly, "I don't yet represent the second armband of adulthood. ”

Picking up the dark red charcoal that was about to burn out in the fire, Riga picked up two more dry branches and placed them on top. A wave of heat mixed with black smoke immediately poured out, and the female warrior endured the pain of smoke in her eyes, and approached the fire to make her body a little warmer. Hidden in the folds and layers of the cloak, the snow melted down into a stream of snow that then pooled into streams and dripped down.

"Would you like a bite?" Picking the half-empty leather bag from her belt, Riga handed it to Monica. Although the inferior ale wine has become bland and tasteless due to too much water, the fermented alcohol will still soothe and warm their bodies.

After softly thanking her, the female warrior, who was a little trembling, took the leather bag with Riga's body temperature with both hands, gently pulled out the plug, and carefully held the bad wine with a little suspension into her mouth

"You've killed a lot of prey. After swallowing a large sip of ale, Monica's delicate face looked at the fur under Riga's ass with some envy with a dull flush. These furs were the prey of the orc warriors, but now they have become hunters' trophies. "These are not my prey. "The Quaids are warriors hungry for glory, but Rriga doesn't think he's down enough to use the furs as his prey, even if they're the spoils he's stolen from the orcs.

When the female warrior heard his words, she immediately looked at the hunter suspiciously, and only after noticing his expressionless change did she give up the topic tastelessly. "What a wonderful winter. The female warrior changed the subject, "The reindeer herds that migrated from the depths of the ice fields provided us with enough food. Newborns today are sure to survive more. Monica said proudly, her fiery red hair swaggering confidently in the wind and snow.

Riga glanced with interest at the warrioress's towering breasts that trembled up and down as she spoke, and a blazing flame suddenly erupted from her eyes. But he pursed his lips and didn't speak, just added a few sticks of wood to the fire to make the flame even stronger.

Feeling the hunter's gaze on her chest again, the female warrior was surprisingly angry this time. With two bright cyan bolts of lightning, Monica angrily pulled out the bronze scimitar at her waist and slashed at the hunter who had not yet responded. If Riga was still level 2 before, he might still have been put on the neck by a scimitar, but now that he has been transformed by the heat flow, his strength, agility, and stamina have improved.

Suddenly standing up from the ground, the hunter's stout right hand reached out like an attacking viper and grabbed Monica's left arm, twisting it with a little force, and the proud female warrior immediately let out a painful cry. Just when the hunter thought he had subdued the female warrior, he found that her soft body was twisted, and another sharp scimitar with a straight right arm stabbed the hunter's head.

Before the scimitar could stab him, a pinprick forced Riga to let go of the palm that held Monica in his arms. The tall body, which had just stood upright, suddenly stepped back, and the hunter dodged the attack of the second scimitar. Looking at the female warrior who was as nimble as an elf on the fluffy, slippery snow, Riga suddenly found herself as if she had provoked a difficult opponent.

"Damn bastard!" Monica, who had straightened up again, howled with a blushing face, "If you stare at me with that disgusting look again, I will definitely make you pay!" Unlike Riga who has been mixed with all kinds of Quaid warriors since she was a child, as the child of a tribal leader, she has never seen that undisguised heat in the eyes of those warriors of the tribe.

"It's still a thorny flower with a stinger. Looking strangely at the fierce female warrior, Riga thought of the story that a group of mercenaries had told him. It is said that in the "Golden Corridor" south of the ice field, among those human principalities, there is a group of powerful women who are completely obsessed with it in pursuit of power, and they even give up marriage and mating for power.

Rubbing her nose helplessly, Riga seriously apologized to Monica, whose eyes were about to burst into flames. "Well, I apologize, but I personally suggest you experience the intoxicating pleasure before choosing your own path. When it came to pleasure, Riga deliberately blinked. If the mercenary had seen that Riga had become like this, he would have been surprised to squirt all the ale in his mouth onto his thick beard.

Seeing the female warrior's expression stiffen and stiffen, Riga hadn't caught the fury in her eyes that could tear him apart and ignite it. Five or six sudden bursts of arrows broke the deadlock between them.

"Arrows!" Riga warned loudly when he saw the rapidly flying black shadow out of the corner of his eye. He immediately bent his powerful legs and rolled into the snowdrift far from the fire. The female warrior was even more pleasing to the eye, two bronze scimitars with blue glow waving in her master's hands, and the misty metal remnants blocked the two wooden arrows fired at her.

"Get out of the way. It wasn't until Riga reminded her again that the warrior took refuge behind a snowdrift before the second wave of arrows hit.

In the daytime, when the wind and snow obscured the vision, a burning fire was indeed not dazzling, but it was already late at night, and even though the Red Moon Ruilin Ace had risen to the very top of the sky, the light from the burning fire was as dazzling as carrion that attracted vultures on the flat ice field. While the feces of the snow ape banished the greedy and hungry beasts of the night, they helped Riga attract even more ruthless and cruel killers.

A sharp-eyed orc scout spotted the flickering flames at the limit of his vision and immediately informed the rest of his companions of the news. After forming a team of more than ten people, they had the courage to walk and fight in the ice fields at night.

The flames dancing in the wind and the swift movement of the Riga led the orcs to believe that there were a large number of Quaid warriors gathered around the fire. So the four orc archers, under the command of the orc captain, fired several rounds of arrows near the fire.

Their original intention was really just to interfere with the psychology of those Quaid warriors near the fire, and this kind of sneak attack can even make the opponent lose the courage to fight when they are lucky. But Lady Luck seems to be on Rigga's side, and there are only two people next to the fire, Riga and Monica, and the attack of the orcs has forced the two enemies who were still fighting to unite for a while.

Looking at the wooden arrows in front of him that were deep in the snow, Riga touched the muddy mixture of snow and sweat on his face in fear. In the third round of arrows fired by the orc archer just now, a wooden arrow was blown away by the north wind and sank into the fluffy snow with the tip of the hunter's nose. Looking at the shaft of the arrow, which had been swallowed up by the snow for most of its length, Riga believed that if the wind just got a little stronger, it would have pierced his head.

Wooden arrows were not easy for orcs to make, and after firing three rounds of arrows, the orc warriors immediately began to charge. The howl of the wind and snow could not hide the "crunch" sound of their heavy feet stepping on the snow, and the only thing that bothered Riga and Monica was that they couldn't see where the orcs were. Their every move near the fire was exposed to orc observation, and their line of sight could only extend no more than ten yards.

Looking at Monica, who clinged to the snow like an icefield gecko, Riga realized that she really underestimated her. The female warrior's body squirmed strangely in the snow, which made it not very difficult for her to gradually move away from the fire. The hunters believed that if they melted her into the darkness, the orcs would find the night on the ice field more dangerous than they had imagined.

Instead of stopping Monica's actions, the hunter knew he had to do something. He tensed his muscles, and with the help of his legs, which had already been accumulated, he rolled a few times to the fire. The broad palm of the hand pushed on the ground, and the snow that had previously accumulated on the ground immediately boiled and poured towards the burning firewood. After a crackling sound, the fire was immediately extinguished by the melting snow.

But for those orc warriors, whether they were guided by fire or not, the dim light released by the red moon was enough for them to fight.