The surface of the thick tent was covered with a layer of white frost. The soft light of the illuminating gems dispersed the darkness, illuminating pale and fearful faces. Yet, no matter how much light there was, it didn’t bring them any warmth at all.

The Old Patriarch and all their fellow uncles had died…

This was something they felt from the relatively close proximity of their bloodlines; it absolutely wouldn’t be wrong. After the initial shock and sorrow, despair enveloped them.

The desert world was approaching the end of its life and they hadn’t yet grasped the method to leave this land. This meant that the only ending left for them was to stay here as the world fell into eternal darkness and eventually die in the infinite cold.

Hong Shao hugged her knees, her eyes dim and empty. She was in a daze. Even now she couldn’t accept that the High Ancestor and the others had died.

“Uwuwu…” One of her companions...