Chapter 1211 - 1210: Role Swap
So now the roles of hunter and prey have reversed? They’ve become the dangerous ones.
After killing over fifty Desert Wolves and Great Horned Beasts, Casa’s stamina was somewhat drained. If they hadn’t been unable to break through his defenses, it’d be hard to say who would’ve fallen by now.
Harry and Norz had long gathered behind Casa, relying on his formidable defenses to hold the line.
After an intense bout of slaughter, some of the Great Horned Beasts had fled, leaving only the Desert Wolves remaining—but not many were left.
As the sky gradually darkened, the last Desert Wolf finally fell under the combined assault of several orcs.
The snow-covered ground was littered with the corpses of Great Horned Beasts and Desert Wolves. With this much food, the entire tribe would be fed for a week.
But Hasa’s expression wasn’t optimistic; many members of the tribe were injured, and over ten had died.
This was a disastrous loss—an entire Hunting Squad of orcs had lost their combat ability, and it was still unclear whether the wounded could recover with treatment. They could only hope there wouldn’t be any irreparable damage.
"Gather the prey. Leave five behind and make their wounds bigger later. Hurry back to the tribe."
Having lived in the desert long-term, the orcs immediately understood the Clan Leader’s orders. They began to carry the carcasses of the fallen beasts and help up their wounded companions.
The remaining orcs used their sharp claws to carve the five beasts lying in the snow into several pieces, the scent of blood spreading instantly.
Once finished, Hasa waved his hand. "Move quickly!"
The orcs began sprinting across the snow, with Harry, Casa, and Norz carrying their prey and running along the path they had come from, even though they didn’t fully understand Hasa’s intentions.
"Run faster!" Casa suddenly shouted, accelerating his pace.
Harry and Norz followed suit and picked up speed, while the orcs from the Sahara Tribe turned pale upon hearing this, frantically rushing forward.
"What’s going on, Casa?" Norz asked in between breaths, hauling two Great Horned Beasts on his shoulders.
Casa furrowed his brows. "The red scorpions that bit me."
The red scorpions—those swarm creatures they’d encountered in the desert before. They even managed to pierce Casa’s defenses, despite their small size.
In an instant, Norz and Harry felt their legs surge with energy; the weight they carried didn’t seem to matter anymore.
Watching the two orcs surge ahead, Casa couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Norz was one thing, but Harry—as the Shaman, showing such blatant fear of death at this moment—isn’t that a bit unbecoming?
In truth, it didn’t seem to matter much, because in such life-or-death moments, not a single orc around them cared about anything but running for their lives.
Their high-speed sprint came to an abrupt halt after a few alarmed cries. The orcs running on the left suddenly sank, half their bodies swallowed by the ground.
"Quicksand!"
The surrounding orcs quickly recoiled. The snow-covered sand obscured the size of the quicksand pit, but the fact that it swallowed three orcs at once made it undeniably perilous.
"Ropes are here." The group that had fallen into the quicksand turned out to be members of the Harvey Squad. Their luck wasn’t entirely bad; aside from a few wounded, no one had succumbed.
Just when they were nearing the tribe, they had three members caught by quicksand.
Throwing a rope over in front of the trapped orcs: "Grab the rope."