The northern sky pressed heavily over the endless expanse of snow, making it impossible to see even a step ahead.

The Northguard hunters moved silently across the snow, wrapped in layers of fur and thick leather gear.

Their steps left footprints in the snow, but fresh snowfall quickly erased any trace of their passage.

Without careful measures, they risked losing their way back. The experienced hunters planted flags at regular intervals, securing them firmly into the ground.@@novelbin@@

These flags, dyed with a special pigment, glowed faintly even through the blizzard. This ensured they wouldn’t lose their bearings in the snowy wasteland. The hunters continued on.

Leading the group was the tribe chief, Jorn.

This role typically belonged to Tarkind, the expedition leader, but Jorn had reluctantly taken over.

Tarkind had gone missing while tracking an orc encampment after defending against an orc horde's attack. Despite multiple attempts, no trace of him—alive or dead—had been found.

Tarkind had been one of Lake Fortress's finest warriors. His absence was a painful loss.

But there was no choice. Those who remained could only do their best.

Thud.

Jorn raised his fist, signaling the group to halt. They stopped in unison.

A herd of reindeer moved in a line along the ridge.

Linbar smirked.

“This is a good start.”

Reindeer meat, with its unique flavor and high fat content, was an excellent source of energy. Missing this chance would be a regretful loss.

Jorn turned back and nodded, prompting Linbar to signal the others. The hunters swiftly moved into position.

Only Ashies stood idly, glancing around awkwardly. She seemed to sense that she should be doing something too.

Linbar gave her a wink and a smile.

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