Roland didn't care. The outside environment was harsh and the indoors were as warm as spring. Rest in this environment and browsing the forum, there was a sense of quiet security.

It's as comfortable as hiding in a bed on a spring night and listening to the sound of rain outside the window.

But at this moment, the sound of bells faintly came from the bitter cold wind, and a caravan was moving forward in the wind and snow.

There was a dim windproof oil lamp hanging at the front of the team and on the last wooden cart.

With these two lamp oils, the caravan could barely maintain contact in the harsh environment where the wind was far louder than the sound of people.

At the forefront of the team, Wallace, the owner of the caravan, shouted to the guide next to him: "What the hell do you take us? You haven't seen a village yet. If you don't find a place to shelter us from the wind, by midnight, the wind will be strong enough to blow us all away, and then we will all die on this plain."

The guide was a middle-aged man with a frost on his face, with dense wrinkles on his face, as if he had been slashed hard with a utility knife.

He didn't say anything, but just kept looking around, hoping to find something to shelter from the wind.

Although he was calm on the surface, he was already a little desperate inside.

The snowy night is too dark and you can't see what's happening around you.

He has been blessing in his heart, praying to the God of Guide and the God of the Road, hoping to get himself out of this predicament.

In this desperate environment, God seemed to hear his prayers.
Chapter completed!