"Oh, lost sub-beasts? Quickly lead me there."
A short distance from the valley where Kaelen and Walter were staying was a small prairie; the people of the Crimson tribe had set up a temporary camp here. Their tribe originally had over two thousand people; now only a little over a thousand remained, all exhausted from fleeing such a long distance.
The reason they chose to migrate during winter was that their tribe had recently been attacked, coupled with this year's weather being too harsh and the land they lived on being buried by blizzards, so they had to leave to find a way to survive.
Collins was sitting in his tent, intently studying the map in his hand. Hearing Andre's report, he couldn't help but look up at them with eyes full of astonishment, then immediately stood up, grabbed his scepter, and stepped outside.
