The More, the Merrier (3)

The two female warriors walked over to the contingents sent by their respective families.

Quite a few curious, probing gazes turned their way—especially toward the towering Minotaur beside them.

Dana stood beside the Singing Snake, one hand resting on his broad belt as he calmly surveyed the surroundings.

His towering figure stood out among the crowd like an iron tower, drawing whispers from many young soldiers.

Though the Empire had no shortage of other races, Minotaurs were particularly rare—especially a male like him, muscles taut all over his body, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, with a pair of dark bronze horns gleaming metallically beneath the sun. It was hard to look away.

A bolder young squad captain finally gathered his courage and stepped out from the ranks.

He wore chainmail in the style of the Empire's western frontier, his curiosity impossible to hide. "Hey... Minotaur, are you from one of the plateau beastman tribes in the western frontier?"

Hearing this, Dana slowly turned his head and looked at him with calm, profound eyes. "Are you talking to me?"

Startled by his imposing presence, the squad captain nodded instinctively.

Dana stroked one of his curved, powerful horns and said with a half-smile, "I'm from Lake Grace Volcano."

The squad captain froze. He searched his memories, but could not recall any place by that name within the Empire.

Even so, he did not dare ask further. He nodded vaguely, certain that this fellow had to be a warrior from some hidden tribe deep in the western mountains.

Meanwhile, the two female warriors stood before the contingents sent by their families, their expressions somewhat unpleasant.

Their eyes fell upon the soldiers—fewer than two hundred in total. Their armor was neat and their discipline decent enough, but this was far too different from the "family