Banquet

Hamuul lifted the curtain and entered the tent, with Sian carefully following behind him. As he crossed the threshold, he kept praying to the Earth Mother that he would not stand out too much, but his wish went unanswered.

Curious gazes turned toward him, most of them friendly. They all seemed to be wondering the same thing—who was this little fellow?

Being watched by so many eyes at once felt awful. Sian twisted his stiff shoulders and sincerely felt uncomfortable.

Hamuul leaned back slightly and stood beside little Sian, helping him bear some of the attention. He quietly rubbed Sian's trembling back, smiled kindly, and nodded in greeting to every guest present.

Sian secretly raised his head and saw the purple-skinned people smiling as they returned Hamuul's greeting. That let him relax for the moment and gave him the chance to look over the guests.

From right to left, the first guest to enter his sight was a brawny middle-aged male elf.

He was impossible to overlook. This guest carried himself completely differently from the other elves present. He wore a short green beard, and his brows and eyes were not especially sharp, yet he still looked imposing. The expensive garment on his upper body did not seem well suited to his powerful build. Sian guessed it was not his usual attire. Though he seemed slightly uncomfortable in it, he still sat upright and dignified. He was probably a very strict person.

How should he describe him? Right—commanding without anger.

Looking at him, Sian seemed to see those elderly, severe scholars.

Yet Sian could still glimpse something of his original self from the plain shoulder guards adorned with feathers and leaves. He was actually a druid who kept company with the wilderness.

But Sian was still somewhat puzzled. In the familiar stories, druids were always peaceful and serene people. They were accustomed to staying far from conflict and silently protecting nature, and such tranquil dispositions often gave rise to approachable faces.

But the man before him seemed somewhat different. Though he concealed it well, Sian could still see a trace of anger and sorrow hidden deep in his blue eyes.

He had not noticed it without reason, for he had experienced those same feelings not long ago.

There was a saying he remembered—there were countless reasons for happiness, but the reasons for misfortune were surprisingly alike.

He had always believed that saying, because sorrowful people always gave off the same scent.

So Sian thought to himself, Could this pitiful man have lost family too?

At that thought, he suddenly wanted very much to speak with him, or at least draw a little closer.

But he did not know whether such a rash act would bring him comfort or tear open his wounds again. After thinking it over, he ultimately did nothing.

Sian sighed and looked toward the next guest.

She was a beautiful female Night Elf. The moment he saw her cool, aloof face, a familiar feeling rose in his heart. She was the sentinel general renowned for both her beauty and talent. The image of her drawing her longbow to shoot had left a deep impression on Sian. He remembered that her name seemed to be—

Shandris Feathermoon?

That name stirred some distant memories. This sentinel lady had been a fairly famous character in a video game from his previous life, but he could no longer remember the details clearly.

Sian could not help feeling deeply disappointed. Memory really was unreliable.

Still, the experience of being able to experience the story of his next life in his previous one was truly strange. But that had only been an extremely narrow part of his life—a game. It was impossible for him to remember everything in perfect detail.

Sian wanted to continue observing, but he had already spent too much time doing so, and the banquet was about to begin.

Hamuul took his hand, like a real grandfather holding his grandson's,

and the two of them went around the neatly arranged seats and slowly walked to the left side of the dining table. Cairne Bloodhoof sat in the host's seat, smiling as he nodded to little Sian. He lightly patted the seat beside him and beckoned, seeming to want little Sian to sit at his side.

Hamuul gently squeezed his shoulder, seemingly encouraging him to boldly go over and sit down.

Experiencing such a strange public occasion for the first time, Sian blushed scarlet with embarrassment. He felt as though his face had been soaked in scorching steam, while his hooves were as heavy as lead and refused to move.

In the end, he did not even know how he had managed to sit down. He only knew that he had used too much force and nearly toppled backward, but fortunately the chieftain reached out and steadily held his stool.

Sian's poor performance seemed to greatly ease the solemn atmosphere of the banquet. Everyone burst into laughter.

It was not only the Tauren. Even the Night Elf guests smiled kindly, and even the stern druid's expression relaxed a little.

Most of those smiles were well-intentioned, though some laughter sounded sharp and grating. But Sian could not care about that now. He only wanted to bury his head deeper, preferably beneath the table.

"Respected Chieftain, is this little fellow your son?"

The druid smiled as he asked Cairne Bloodhoof.

"Please call me Cairne, Archdruid Staghelm. Whether in age or experience, I truly cannot bear such a title."

The chieftain gently patted Sian's head and said with a smile, "As for being my son... I wish that were so. Unfortunately, I am only this child's uncle. His father has been somewhat busy, so I took him in to look after him for the time being."

Thinking of his much younger cousin, Cairne could not help sighing. In some ways, this little fellow was truly exactly like Carl had been as a child.

During those passionate and reckless teenage years, Tauren who liked to be shy were truly uncommon. Yet this father and son had somehow made a pair.

But Cairne did not consider it a sign of cowardice. On the contrary, he understood even more clearly just how brave these two bulls could be when protecting the people they loved.

"Please forgive me, but I cannot do that, because youth and experience are not reasons for us to judge a person."

The druid shook his head and said solemnly, "If we sincerely respect someone from the depths of our hearts, it must be because we have been moved by their fine qualities. It may be wisdom, kindness, or compassion, but it will never be something like age, which can simply be accumulated through time."

His words rang out with force as his stern gaze swept over his companions' faces. Some Night Elves were subdued by that piercing look, while others still held their heads high with pride.

"I believe I understand, Archdruid Staghelm."

Cairne nodded gravely. "Just as the Earth Mother patiently teaches us: treat nature kindly, for every blade of grass and every tree can be a teacher. We are accustomed to learning and understanding from her embrace, and I believe the same is true of people. We should not fear seeking guidance. Only with humility and courage can we walk alongside the wise."

They both gave each other sincere smiles, understanding that the other possessed great wisdom.