Chapter 1171 - 1170: Sense of Joy
Standing guard outside the stone door was an orc about the same age as the middle-aged orc, with dark skin and a beard that was streaked with white, giving him an amusing appearance.
Ji Nuan and her companions stopped some distance away from the stone door, while the middle-aged orc transformed into his orc form and walked over to the white-bearded orc.
"Captain Harvey." Although the middle-aged orc was the clan leader of his tribe, he still displayed a respectful demeanor when facing the hunting team leader of a major tribe.
The white-bearded orc greeted the middle-aged orc with a smile and then looked over at the three orcs sitting on camelback not far away. "You rascal, since when did you start associating with the Mogor Tribe?"
The orc named Harvey laughed heartily as he teased the middle-aged orc.
The Mogor Tribe was the only tribe in the desert capable of commanding Bactrian camels, so their status was held in high regard among the desert tribes.
The middle-aged orc let out a bitter chuckle. "If I could make connections with the Mogor Tribe, I would’ve gotten myself a couple of Bactrian camels long ago and exchanged them for a lavish supply of food to enjoy a grand feast."
After speaking, he glanced respectfully at Ji Nuan and her companions behind him, then leaned close to Harvey and said in a low voice, "Two of those individuals are shamans traveling from another region."
Harvey’s face, which had been wearing a slight smile, instantly turned serious, his gaze filled with reverence. "You rascal, you actually left two shamans waiting over there."
Having spoken, he glared at the middle-aged orc in indignation before quickly striding toward the trio on camelback.
The surrounding Sahara Tribe orcs then witnessed a shocking scene: the third hunting squad’s leader, Harvey—known for his lofty airs—actually bowed respectfully to the three unfamiliar orcs seated atop the Bactrian camels.
"Honored shamans, welcome to the Sahara Tribe. Our clan leader is inside the tribe; may I lead the three of you in?"
Xiu Yan gazed at the orc bowing before him with an odd expression, his lips twitching slightly. So this foolish orc believed the "two shamans" referred to him and Harry?
"I’m not a shaman." The orc’s voice was deep and magnetic, tinged with a cold edge.
Harvey froze, momentarily puzzled, when the middle-aged orc behind him tugged at his arm. "Don’t speak rashly."
He then walked over to Ji Nuan, who was riding Maomao. "Shaman Ji Nuan, kindly do not take offense at Harvey’s mistake. In our desert tribes, there are no female shamans, so that’s why he misidentified you."
Ji Nuan said nothing; she merely turned her gaze toward Harvey, who was still stunned by the middle-aged orc’s revelation. "Take us to meet your clan leader."
"Why are orcs from the Mogor Tribe showing up at our tribe? Coming to meet the clan leader without dismounting from their Bactrian camels—how disrespectful!"
Before Harvey could respond, a dignified and authoritative voice rang out from not far behind Ji Nuan’s group.
"The shaman has returned."
"The shaman has returned from gathering herbs."
"The shaman."
The surrounding clansmen simultaneously bowed toward an elderly orc.
The elderly orc was accompanied by a group of tall, robust orcs exuding a palpable sense of strength. Each of them carried several beast skin bags strapped to their backs.
Ji Nuan sniffed lightly; the bags were filled entirely with herbs.
The old shaman soon arrived before Ji Nuan and her companions. His expression was displeased, and his demeanor was even more intimidating.
Harvey hurried forward to explain, only to be stopped by a sharp glare from the old shaman. Useless fool, standing here letting these Mogor Tribe orcs bully his own clansmen.