That night, the Longbo Tribe laid out a dragon feast.
Dozens of enormous bonfires blazed on the drill ground within the stockade walls, their flames leaping higher than a person and bathing all of Mount Yuanjiao in red.
The Ice Chi's meat was cut into great chunks, threaded onto skewers whittled from iron trees, and roasted over the fires until fat sizzled from it.
The dragon meat was the color of creamy white fat. It neither charred nor shrank in the flames, but instead gave off a strange, delicate fragrance that cleared the mind and soothed the whole body with a single breath.
Qi Zhong wielded the knife himself, slicing off the richest, tenderest meat from the dragon's belly and serving it to Lu Changfeng and Bai Yu on an enormous stone platter. The meat melted in their mouths, a warm current slipping down their throats into their stomachs. Every limb and bone felt as though it had been washed in warm water, sweeping away all the exhaustion of the day's fierce battle.
The warriors from the Land of the Great People were a little reserved at first. After all, they had arrived late and had little ground to stand on.
But the Longbo tribespeople were straightforward. After a few jars of fruit wine were poured down their throats and great chunks of dragon meat were thrust into their hands, the two peoples threw their arms around one another's shoulders and sang around the bonfires.
The giants' rough singing mingled with the lilting work chants of the Land of the Great People, making even the firelight tremble.
Hosts and guests alike enjoyed themselves to the fullest. Only when the moon stood high overhead and the bonfires began to die did everyone reluctantly disperse.
As Lu Changfeng bade farewell to A