The Queen of Scrolls never admits defeat

The next afternoon, the sun was shining brightly.

In the open space in the center of the Tatali tribe camp, the preparations for the celebration are beginning to take shape.

The huge bonfire was piled up like a small mountain, with three cleaned iron-horned bulls and several plump moon deer placed next to it. Colorful carpets were spread on the ground, and wooden bowls and stone jars filled with raspberries, moon mushrooms, tree honey and nuts were placed on them.

The most eye-catching feature was the temporary wooden stage erected on one side of the venue, adorned with decorations made of animal bones, colored stones, and feathers that shimmered in the sunlight.

Sylvia had changed into a brightly colored skirt and trousers that were both easy to move in and stylish.

The skirt hem fell just to her calves, the cuffs were fitted, and the cardholder at her waist held small gifts she had prepared to give to the children of the Tatali tribe.

Her hair was braided into two neat braids by her mother and tied with an indigo ribbon.

"Mom, I'm ready!" She jumped up and down in front of the castle, her eyes shining like they were filled with sunshine.

Moran changed into the same skirt and pants as Sylvia, holding a wicker basket filled with gifts in one hand and her daughter's hand in the other: "Shall we set off?"

"set off!"

As soon as the two stepped out of the castle, they saw Talam and his people waiting outside.

Today they all wore robes made of moonskin deerskin, with intricate totem patterns painted on them, shimmering with blue, purple, and gold hues in the sunlight.

"Lord Moran, Miss Sylvia!" Taram stepped forward, pounding his chest with his right hand. "Welcome to the Tatali tribe's hunting festival!"

The clansmen behind him also bowed in unison.

Moran nodded slightly in return: "Thank you for the invitation, Chief Taram. This is a small gift that Sylvia and I prepared!"

She handed the wicker basket to Taram.

The clan leader accepted the box with both hands. He first saw the simple wooden box, then opened it and his eyes widened immediately. There were three Level 5 Healing Potions and three Level 5 Antidotes, which were more expensive than all the cards they had bought with gem coins.

“This…is too valuable!” Taram’s voice trembled slightly.

"It's just a small token of my appreciation," Moran smiled. "I hope they can protect the peace of the tribe!"

Taram took a deep breath, solemnly handed the wooden box to an elder behind him for safekeeping, and then looked at the other things in the basket, those small packages tied with indigo ribbons.

Sylvia stepped forward, somewhat shy but with a clear voice:
"Chief, these little blue packages are candies and cookies I prepared for the children in the tribe... I hope they will like them."

The Tatars save every gem coin to buy supplies and medicines that are unavailable in the forest.

Even though candy and cookies aren't expensive in the card shop, kids rarely get to eat them.

I heard there were gifts for them too, and the children all peeked out from behind their parents.

Taram simply let the children come and collect their gifts.

Every child who received a gift politely thanked Sylvia.

Sylvia smiled happily, revealing two small canine teeth.

The atmosphere immediately lightened.

Taram personally led Moran and Sylvia to the celebration venue.

Along the way, Sylvia looked around curiously. She saw women busy in front of a huge stone stove, children with painted faces chasing and playing, and young soldiers checking bowstrings and sharpening short swords in preparation for the performance later.

What excited her most were the lying-down lightning wolves.

Their silver-blue fur was combed until it was shiny, and the golden stripes on their backs shimmered in the sunlight.

Each wolf had a blue leather rope tied around its neck, with colorful stones and small bone ornaments strung on the rope.

“They are so beautiful…” Sylvia exclaimed softly.

"Want to touch it?" a clear voice rang out from the side. Sylvia turned her head and saw a little girl of about seven or eight years old standing not far away.

She had simple lightning bolt patterns painted on her face, wore small leather armor, carried a small bow and arrows on her back, had a wooden dagger at her waist, and was accompanied by a small lightning wolf cub.

"W-Is it okay?" Sylvia's eyes lit up.

The girl nodded and said something in Tatari to the wolf cub.

The little wolf tilted its head and looked at Sylvia, then slowly walked over, sniffed at her feet, and obediently lowered its head.

Sylvia carefully reached out and gently touched the little wolf's head.

The hair was softer than she had imagined, and she could feel a slight, tingling static electricity on her fingertips.

The little wolf squinted comfortably, making gurgling sounds in its throat.

“It likes you!” The girl smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “My name is Tamuna, and its name is Tatafeng.”

"Hello! My name is Sylvia!" Sylvia smiled as well. "What kind of things do you have at your celebrations?"

"So much!" Tamuna exclaimed excitedly. "There's a barbecue festival, an archery competition, a war dance performance... Oh, and—"

She lowered her voice mysteriously:

"My brother will be participating in the hunting performance later; he's the strongest warrior in our tribe..."

The two children quickly started chatting.

Neither Taram nor Moran disturbed them.

The celebration officially began when the afternoon sun was at its warmest.

Without a lengthy speech, Taram simply walked to the center of the field, raised a goblet filled with rego wine, and shouted something in Tatari.

Immediately, all the Tatars, regardless of age or gender, raised their cups and bowls in unison.

The sound was like thunder, echoing through the valley.

Then, the first activity began: a hunting demonstration.

Ten of the most elite Tatari hunters rode in on their lightning wolf companions.

Each wolf was equipped with a specially made saddle, and the hunters carried longbows, short knives at their waists, and their painted faces looked fierce and imposing in the sunlight.

At the other end of the venue, several young people unveiled a huge model of an "Iron Horned Bull" made of wood and leather.

At Taram's command, the demonstration began.

Ten lightning wolves charged out at the same time!
They were so fast that they almost turned into silver-blue afterimages.

The hunters on the back of the wolves drew their bows and nocked arrows as they galloped at high speed, their movements incredibly steady.

The sound of arrows piercing the air mingled with the dust kicked up by the lightning wolf's claws, accompanied by the enthusiastic shouts of the onlookers.

Sylvia was so engrossed in watching that she forgot to blink.

She saw the hunters leaning, crouching, and even standing briefly on the wolf's back, and saw arrows accurately hitting the "Iron Horned Bull's" vitals.

Finally, when the ten hunters surrounded their "prey" in a fan shape and let out a triumphant shout, the entire arena erupted in deafening cheers.

Sylvia clapped enthusiastically, her little hands turning red from clapping.

"Amazing..." she whispered to her mother, "They and the Lightning Wolves... their teamwork is so perfect!" (End of Chapter)