“What could be more important than this? This is your first festival since coming of age. Who is this human girl? She looks unfamiliar. Don’t tell me…”
She deliberately dragged out her tone, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Is this the one you picked for yourself after sneaking out? You move fast, little Celia. But… a human? That is quite unexpected.”
“Sister Traka!”
Celia’s cheeks were instantly stained with a visible shade of pink.
She interrupted Traka’s increasingly ridiculous guesses in a minor panic.
At the same time, she instinctively turned her body slightly to shield Ilyas more thoroughly, as if doing so could block out those embarrassing associations.
“It’s not what you think! She… she’s Ilyas. It isn’t like that at all. I… I wanted to go to the Ashen Plains alone to see my mothers. She’s heading the same way, so we’re traveling together.”
“To see Elariel and Velanthe…”
Traka’s voice held a hint of reminiscence.
“That does sound like something you would do.”
She looked up at the sky.
The clouds in the west had already been dyed golden-red by the evening glow.
“Forget it,” Traka said, waving her hand as if putting aside all her previous teasing and questions.
Her tone became practical and brooks no refusal.
“It’s almost dark, and there isn’t a village or a shop for miles. It’s too risky for two young girls to travel alone at night, even if you do have some skill. You’re camping with us tonight. Don’t even think about refusing, or I’ll force you back myself.”
Without waiting for Celia’s response, she turned toward the beastman unit behind her and shouted loudly, “Girls! We’re stopping early today! Set up camp and start the fires! We have guests!”
“Oh — !”
A burst of cheerful responses erupted from the group.
The beastman girls, who had been marching all day, showed no signs of fatigue.
Instead, they became even more active because of this unexpected interlude and the order to rest early.
They immediately sprang into action.
Soon, several thick and spacious tents were pitched in a nearby forest clearing.
The central space was cleared, and a campfire began to take shape.
The vigorous flames leaped, dispelling the deepening twilight and the chill.
The aroma of food began to drift through the air, mixing with the crackling of burning wood and the hearty laughter of the beastman girls.
Ilyas stood somewhat stiffly at the edge of a tent, watching the beastman women who were overflowing with a cheerful atmosphere.
She gently pulled on Celia’s sleeve and leaned close to her ear, her voice kept very low and filled with unconcealed curiosity.
“Celia… that Lady Traka, who exactly is she…? Everyone seems to respect her very much. And she… she knows your mothers?”
“Sister Traka? She is the wife of Elder Phyllis, and a renowned Sword Saint within the Beastman Clan.”
“A Sword Saint?”
Ilyas repeated softly, startled by the weight the title carried.
“Yes. Usually, she and Elder Phyllis are responsible for escorting the beastman caravans to and from our territory every year… They treat me very well. I learned my swordsmanship from her.”
“Little Celia — what are you whispering about over there in the corner? Come, sit by the fire! The meat is almost done, and the soup is hot. We’re just waiting for you!”
Traka’s call rang out from nearby.
Celia gave Ilyas a look, and the two of them walked toward the campfire together.
As they drew closer, the heat mixed with the scorched aroma of roasted meat hit them.
Traka had already reserved a spot for them on the ground covered with thick animal pelts.
“That’s more like it!”
Her gaze circled Ilyas’s slightly stiff face, and she suddenly grinned.
She patted a girl beside her who had light brown, soft fur and long ears, currently nibbling on dried meat.
“Lia, don’t just focus on eating.
Take our little human guest around to meet people and see the trinkets we brought.
Since it’s her first time here, I’m sure everything looks fresh to her.”
The rabbit-folk girl named Lia’s eyes lit up.
She swallowed her dried meat in a few bites, her ears twitching happily.
She reached out toward Ilyas with a shy and friendly smile.
“Come on! I’ll show you the colored beads and feather headdresses we brought from Askala. They’re so beautiful! Also, Sister Tana is brewing a sweet root tea; I bet you’ve never had it!”
Ilyas looked at Celia, feeling a bit lost.
Celia gave her a gentle nod and whispered, “Go ahead. Lia has a great personality, and everyone in Sister Traka’s unit is a reliable warrior.”
Having received permission, Ilyas finally placed her hand in the enthusiastic rabbit girl’s hand and was lightly pulled toward the other side of the camp where laughter was ringing out.
With Ilyas sent away, the area by the campfire seemed to quiet down for a moment, leaving only the crackle of burning wood.
The smile on Traka’s face pulled back slightly.
She patted the empty spot beside her, signaling Celia to sit.
Once Celia had sat down as requested, she continued speaking.
“Celia, let me introduce someone to you. Onyxia, come over here.”
As her voice fell, a voluptuous figure strolled out from the shadows on the other side of the campfire.
It was a fox-folk woman with a graceful posture and light steps that carried a natural sense of rhythm.
The most striking thing about her was her thick, flame-like hair, which was as brilliant as the evening glow.
It was loosely pinned behind her head, with a few strands falling near her neck, adding a touch of casual charm.
Between her hair, a pair of furry fox ears of the same color twitched nimbly.
Behind her, a similarly fluffy, fiery-red tail swayed slowly and leisurely.
Her face was typical of the fox-folk.
Her skin was a healthy honey tone, and her upturned fox eyes were filled with mirth.
Her pupils were a warm amber, and a natural affinity flowed within her gaze.
A perfect smile played at the corners of her mouth—it wasn’t overly enthusiastic, but it made one feel as if they were basking in a spring breeze.
“Sister Traka,” Celia’s cheeks felt warm.
The moment Traka mentioned introducing someone, she already knew what was going to happen.
Her voice held a hint of helpless pleading.
“I… I’m not yet… I haven’t thought about this kind of thing.”
“Oh? But Onyxia here could be said to have come on this trip specifically for you.”
Traka crossed her arms, her smile deepening.
She clearly didn’t intend to let Celia get away so easily.
The fox-folk woman named Onyxia had already reached them and heard that sentence.
She wasn’t shy; instead, she gracefully sat down in the empty space on the other side of Celia, opposite Traka.
Her fluffy red tail curled obediently at her side.
She tilted her head slightly, her amber eyes reflecting the firelight as she looked at Celia frankly.
“Sister Traka is right. I did indeed come here for you.”
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