On a chilly desert night, the orcs who had successfully raided the caravan were panting and holding torches aloft.

Muttering a language that mimicked the language of the Glacier Orcs, they rummaged around the messy camp of the troops, collecting their loot.

And in the camp of the caravan masters, starting with Dean and Luisa, Old Hammer, Fast Rope, McGee...... The surrendered human captives lined up in a line with their heads in their hands and were escorted to the enemy leader by heavily armed orcs.

Tails was among them, right behind Dean. Perhaps because of his age and size, Tails wasn't rudely escorted by an orc on his back like the others, but still, the gaze and weapons of the enemies on both sides sent chills down his sleeve as he walked through the sand and past a vicious-looking alien.

The murderous aura and appearance of the orcs are quite unsettling, and almost every warrior has a lot of wounds on his body, old and new, and at first glance he looks like a brave man who has experienced a hundred battles. They looked at the captives with disdain, deliberately tapping the weapons in their hands. With a clang, Tails couldn't help but think of six years ago, when the mission walked past the Northland Infantry Regiment under the Broken Dragon Fortress.

The same tension, the same suffocation.

It's just more desperate than it was then.

Outside of dozens of orc warriors, three unique orcs stood in front of the cargo belonging to Tomding, coldly watching the captives approach.

Tails is no stranger to them:

A cold-faced orc with white lips and an abnormally large black bow on his shoulder, it was the one who had just killed the mercenary Ponga with one arrow in a duel of marksmen;

A fierce creature with a great sword, bare-chested, and blackened forehead, caressing the wound on his chest, with a terrible grin on his face, the death of Kanzer, a Northlander, was due to his slash;

And the mace-wielding mace-wielding orc, whose face was painted blue, had chased Tails since the time of the battle, and now, its gaze had never taken off the boy, its sharp teeth rubbing up and down in hatred.

It is far from the prince to make an export type: Flaka.

The blue-faced orc made a fist clench, the mace clenching tighter and tighter in his hand.

Flaka.

Flaka again.

Tails muttered silently, feeling bad.

But these three different guys couldn't hide the demeanor of the leader behind them:

Dressed in a rare snow-white fur, the severed black orc looked down at the iron fork on his right wrist and sat casually on a large pile of goods, as if he had become one with the silence around him, waiting for the arrival of his captives in the light of torches.

The different posture and height prove its status.

The captives were brought to it one by one, lined up in horizontal lines. The rude escorts pressed and kicked the vanquished to their knees.

Tails sighed slightly, and then knelt down in the sand.

In the night, the shirtless orc with a large sword beside the leader snorted and motioned for his men to throw a torch.

It raised its torch and roasted the wound on its chest, sighing with satisfaction at the sound of the merchants' breaths and the sizzle of the flames.

After burning the wounds, the orc walked past each kneeling captive, illuminating their faces.

Tails' eyes narrowed at the fire and the heat.

The leader, who sat on the cargo and watched the iron fork, slowly raised his head and looked at its loot.

There were far more survivors in the caravan than expected: at least eight or nine of them knelt among the captives, their hands equally folded, trembling under the gaze of the orcs - probably because the battle had started so suddenly, and the enemy's sneak attack was too successful, and those who had taken up arms were basically killed mercilessly in the first round, while the rest who had not yet had time to arm were quickly frightened by the terrible battle situation, and in the hideous faces of the orcs, their blood-dripping weapons, and their thrilling roars, they crouched on the ground and raised their hands in surrender.

Tyers, who saw their expressions clearly, dared to say: These merchants have probably never seen so many orcs in their lives.

The flames were blown by the cold wind, and the captives were dead in the face of the orcs' hideous faces.

The frightening silence lasted for a short time, during which the night breeze and cold accompanied the noise of looters in the distance added a touch of the sadness of the execution ground to the scene.

"Outsiders. ”

At last, the black leader spoke, and between the twisted and terrifying lips, its lingua franca accent was as desert as ever, so fluent that it was hard to believe that it could have been said by an orc: "You ...... here"

"Who's in charge?"

There was a commotion among the captives kneeling on the ground, and many subconsciously turned their heads.

Tails caught a glimpse of the pot-bellied Tom Ding, also holding his head, kneeling on the remote side of the line.

But the old man of the old man and the virtuous gentleman, who had been so proud that he talked about business without stopping, was gone, and what remained was a poor man who trembled incessantly: Tom Ding seemed to be frightened by the appearance of the orcs, and only shrank his head so stiffly that he did not even dare to lift his head.

Fat on his knees, shaking like a sieve, he tried to curl up the muscles and muscles on his body, as if every inch of his body exposed in the cold wind would bring losses.

When confronted by the leader, he did not speak.

The pure black orc leader looked around at the captives and sneered in a majestic voice: "Hmph, so ......"

"So, outsiders, you who don't have anyone to talk to, can negotiate with me—even if I start to think about who to keep and who to kill?"

This made many of the captives tremble even more.

This is an orc who is proficient in human language, Tails thought, which is rare.

And, according to Dean, they are not sporadic lonely exiles, but large tribes?

Thinking of this, Tails noticed: Dean beside him sighed.

The latter moved his knees, ready to stand up.

But before the bald mercenaries could make any greater moves, there was a slight commotion on the other side of the captive procession.

"We surrendered, and you promised our lives, orcs. ”

A girl in armor lowered her hands and stood up on her knees in the midst of the kneeling crowd, straightening her waist and looking at the enemy with a calm expression.

". Tails heard a small curse from McGee on the other side.

"I am," Louisa's expression darkened in the night, but her voice was incomparably clear and steady:

"I'm the leader of this team, Louisa Dante. ”

Unarmed, she whispered, "You can negotiate with me." ”

The commotion happened again.

But this time, it was the gruff orc warriors who caused the commotion, and they exchanged heads and ears in roaring voices.

The pure black orc's facial features moved slightly, and it changed its sitting position, its elbows against its knees, and leaned forward, as if it was very interested in this woman who stood out from the crowd at this moment.

"I only promised this man, and that Sorino's life," the orc pointed at McGee and Tails with the iron fork on his wrist, "excluding other outsiders, and you ......"

The three orcs below the leader glanced at each other, baring their teeth and letting out a deep laugh that sounded like a cold wind howling from Tails.

"Look, my holy guards are smiling," the leader turned to Louisa, smiling:

"The people beyond the desert have degenerated to the point of letting the powerless female lead them?"

The old hammer and McGee on the other side let out a low curse.

Facing the orcs' gaze, Luisa took a calm breath.

"Then you can give me a weapon and an opponent. ”

"I can prove to you what is weaker than your promise, or my sword. ”

The topless orc with the torch and the bare sword let out a sigh of relief, patted the wound on his chest, and said something.

The leader responded to it, drawing laughter from many of the orcs.

It turned its head.

"You don't have to prove it, Louisa Dante, the valiant warrior, I know very well that many of the females in the world are far more terrible than the males. ”

Luisa paused slightly.

"And according to my loyal guard, 'Lusana the Unhindered,'" said the black orc, slowly, "he acknowledges your strength, and the moment you give it to him is a pain to the marrow." ”

Luisa glanced at the orc with the big sword, and saw that the other side was baring her sharp teeth.

The leader continued with interest, "He also said that if you are an orc, then he will snatch you home now, as his most cherished wife, and protect you with blood and sword, and protect you and the strong cubs born to him, until his war spirit completes the test of the desert gods and returns to the land of the ancestors." ”

McGee cursed under his breath.

But Luisa just sneered.

"But I'm human. ”

The leader nodded.

"But you're human, you can't be one of us," the all-black orc chin at Lusananu:

"So he has no choice but to eat you. ”

Eat.

Eat?

Tails felt a chill in his heart, and for some reason remembered the sand scorpion that he had eaten.

and - the Bloodthorn Lizard.

Luisa sighed:

"It's racism. ”

The leader seemed amused, and he opened his mouth wide and let out a burst of mad laughter.

"Is this normal?" Tails whispered to Dean beside him, "Every orc who has captured humans plays a joke on them before heating up a cauldron and cooking them?"

"I don't know, after all," Dean didn't move his lips:

"There aren't many people who have been captured by the orcs and can go back alive to tell the story. ”

Tails froze slightly.

Luisa looked up.

"So, is that you?"

The female captain fearlessly faced the orcs who were eyeing them: "Kill those sand thieves." ”

"The man who hunts all living creatures in the desert on a large scale. ”

The leader's eyes narrowed.

"So you found out. ”

It sounded in a deep voice.

"The corpses. ”

Dean frowned slightly.

Luisa nodded.

"In those camps, there are many individual hard ideas, even exiles from large tribes, but they have no power to fight back," the female captain looked around at the dozens of orc warriors around: "I guess it's you, with numbers, tactics and formations, with tribe warriors who are almost like an army, to slaughter them alive." ”

"It's like tonight - for this raid, you even took off your heavy armor and came lightly, just to take it by surprise and attack it unprepared. ”

Dean sighed in Tails' ear, "She's trying to look stronger...... It is said that the orcs, especially those of the great tribes, respected the strong and warriors and valued honor. ”

The orc leader smiled, he raised the iron fork on his broken wrist, and pointed at Luisa, "Very good, do you have anything else to say?"

Luisa took a deep breath, nodded and continued, "Crackstone Tribe, I know you. ”

The leader remained motionless.

Luisa spoke fearlessly as she faced the leader and his three fearsome men.

"You are one of the eight tribes in the desert, under the throne of the dragon's wreck, and you have suffered heavy losses in the desert war, and you have to flee to the depths of the desert. ”

"But why, why did you risk leaving the depths of the desert to be so close to the power of the Star People, and going around killing like crazy?"

"This doesn't follow the rules of the desert!

The leader laughed again.

Compared to his men, especially its three so-called "holy guards", this orc smiled more and more often.

It's also even more unsettling.

"Rules in the desert?"

"Very well, you can survive, woman," the orc leader nodded slowly, ignoring the roar of the orc with the great sword, Lusana, "for your good fighting and knowledge, as for whether to follow us back or ...... Let's take a look. ”

"What about the others?"

"Others, others must prove their worth," the orc leader turned his head, his eyes shining yellow sharply as he swept over his captive, "and the reason why I attacked and captured you is only one thing I want to know. ”

The mercenaries frowned in unison.

"What's the matter?" Luisa wondered.

In the firelight, the orc leader's eyes narrowed.

"Ten days ago, I received a report," it stepped down from the sand, and erected its huge two-man tall figure, "a large number of people, whether they are bonemen, orcs, sand thieves, or small tribes and small groups, they have fled from the north and from the east. ”

Refugees?

Doubts rose in Tails' mind.

The suspicion spread to the captives as well, but the situation left them no time to think about it.

The orcs slowly walked to the far left of the captive line, skimming each one of them step by step.

Many of the merchants shivered with fear as they watched the hideous creature approach, and Tails swore he even smelled the smell of urine.

"I'm wondering: what makes these scum dare to ignore the majesty of the Dragonscark Throne, forget the horror of the Desert God Altar, and desperately flee into the depths of the desert, into the territory of the orcs and bones, into the self-reserved land of the eight tribes and the five major tribes, and into the dangerous forbidden area known to everyone in the desert?"

And according to the refugees, "the black orc walked past Tomding, who was lying on the ground and looked like a trembling caterpillar:

"Not so long ago, a detachment of thousands of elite cavalry entered the desert. ”

Dean beside Tails held his breath.

"Thousands?" he whispered.

Unbeknownst to Dean, Tails' heartbeat missed a beat at that moment.

Cavalry.

Cavalry?

Cavalry entering the desert.

The pure black orc walked by Luisa's side, patted her shoulder with his huge left hand, and curled his lips: "In ten days, they have occupied almost all the oasis strongholds, driven out all the natives, and killed those who did not want to leave. ”

The mercenaries kneeling on the ground showed surprised expressions and looked left and right.

"Is that them, not you?"

Luisa exclaimed, "It is ...... who is sweeping and hunting in the desert The cavalry?"

The group of cavalry.

Tails stared at the sand in front of him, his expression stiff.

The orc turned.

"Like you, we've come across countless corpses and camps along the way, no less than you've found. ”

The orc walked past the old hammer and the fast rope, and his voice grew colder and colder:

"It's more than that. ”

"Ruthlessly, and at all costs, they slaughtered all the bipedal creatures they saw along the way—whether they were sand pirates, exiles, bonemen, orcs, or ordinary smuggling caravans—and swept the northern outskirts of the desert. ”

"It's almost turning half of the desert into a no-man's land. ”

Slaughtered.

Tails felt a cold sweat slip down his back.

"This doesn't end there. ”

The orc walked up to Dean.

The all-black orc leader lowered his head and glanced at Dean meaningfully:

"Instead of leaving, they maintained a costly line of defense on the spot, delivering supplies day and night, drinking horses and grass without restraint, just to stay in the desert for one more day and stop for one more day. ”

Dean narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"Their rangers went about and fro, killing people when they saw them, drinking water when they saw them, and gnawing on grass when they saw them—the whole northern end of the desert was disturbed by them. ”

Everywhere.

Back and forth.

Tails only felt his breathing getting slower.

The orc continued on his way, the giant foot on the soft sand making a chilling friction.

"We hunt, we graze, we feed our hunger, but even the stupidest people know that when we get what we need, we have to keep the young, not touch the seedlings. ”

Slightly panicked, Tails could feel the orc's footsteps getting closer and closer.

"We'll have food for the coming year...... But this group of people?"

"Whether it's water, pasture, firewood, camp...... These killers on the horse take without pity, endlessly consume all the resources in the desert, neither fight nor occupy, they just waste money, food, and manpower disproportionately, just to sweep this wasteland where birds don't, leaving a single inch of sand without grass, and the cleaned camp can't even stay anymore!"

The orcs walked past Dean and finally stopped at Tails at the very edge, next to the youngest human.

Tails still held his head, and out of his eye he saw the orc's muscular calves and felt it sound above his head.

Worst.

This means......

"In my experience, these cunning humans behave abnormally, and they must have a plan. ”

"Just like they've done in the past. ”

"But since they're moving, we're going to do our own too," the orc leader narrowed his eyes as he looked at the captives, "that's why we're heading north." ”

"It was I who decided to lead a group of tribal warriors to the east and north in the desert. ”

It gritted its hideous teeth: "So, outsiders. ”

"For a month, you were the only ones who came from the direction of the Bladefang Dunes, the only ones who set out in the same direction, in the same place as the frenzied cavalry. ”

"And the only one who probably knows their intentions. ”

The captives kneeling on the ground had different expressions.

On the sand, rows of orc warriors stood around coldly, looking at each human captive, trembling or confused.

The expressions of the three holy guards remained unchanged, waiting for their leader's next words.

Finally, the pure black orc slowly stretched out his hand, raised the iron fork on his wrist, and said in a cold tone.

"And you'll tell me. ”

"Why. ”

It spits out a noun that makes everyone frown:

"Kingdom of the Stars. ”

"Why?"

The mercenaries looked at each other, and even the merchants were shocked.

"Why did they send so many troops deep into the desert?"

"Why are they tearing up every layer of yellow sand here?"

"Why do you not hesitate to spend money and food and human lives?"

Under the cold, Tails felt a chill on his neck!

A cold iron fork pressed against the prince's neck.

In the exclamation of the mercenaries, Tails was forced by the strength of the iron fork to raise his head and look into the bright yellow eyes of the orc leader.

Tails stared at it in a daze, looking at the scars on the other party's face and inhuman faces, catching a glimpse of the armor under his fur, looking at the faint blood and abrasion marks on it, and only felt his body tingle.

Unlike any other orc he's ever fought against.

Those eyes were calm and composed.

It seems that there are many secrets hidden.

"Someone," the orc raised his eyes to look at the others, but the movement of his hand did not stop, still hooking Tails' chin with an iron fork:

"Can you tell me?"

No response.

There was only a cold wind howling in the sand.

and the crackling of flames.

But at this moment, only Tails knows:

The truth that this pure black orc has worked so hard to get......

The secret that keeps the desert tumultant......

It was under its iron fork, trembling slightly.

What to do?

Tails thought desperately.

Right now.

"Enough. ”

"Kandar Nushan, who is famous in the desert, there is no need to embarrass a human Sorino. ”

It was a gentle, old-fashioned male voice.

Just like the day he rescued Tails.

As the words fell, the orcs began to talk in small motion, as if slightly agitated over a certain name.

Nervous enough to suffocate, Tails felt his neck shudder slightly.

Finally, the neck was loosened: the iron fork left his arteries.

Tails breathed a sigh of relief and began to breathe again, thinking about what to do with the predicament in front of him.

The pure black orc turned, its gaze quieting all the orcs.

"Who," it slowly walked over to Tails, over to the speaker's side, staring at the bald human, "the one who spoke to me...... Who is it?"

The speaker raised his head, lowered his arms, stood up, and looked up at it.

"I'm Dean, sort of...... Luisa's deputy. ”

In the next second, the orc's iron fork pressed into Dean's neck.

Luisa exclaimed slightly.

But the bald mercenary remained motionless, just letting the other party look at him.

The orc leader lowered his head and stared at him for a long time.

"Human, I was impressed by you during the battle just now. ”

"You have skill and wisdom. ”

The orc leader narrowed his eyes, "Do you know who I am?"

The captive nodded, his face indifferent.

"I know. ”

"I know your arms, I know the color of your skin. ”

Dean stared at the orc intently:

"You're not a purebred grey...... Purebred Desert Orcs, you have Glacier Orc blood, so your skin color is different from theirs. ”

Damn ice bastard, Dean said silently.

Tails looked at the other person's skin, looked at the pitch-black color, and his heart was relieved.

Surprise appeared in the eyes of the orc leader.

Dean sighed softly:

"You're Kandar Nushan. ”

"Rise as an exile and gallop through the desert for twenty years. ”

(End of chapter)