The interior of High Chief Altan's ger was a marvel in itself—spacious yet intimate, adorned with rich fabrics and intricate carvings that reflected the pride and craftsmanship of Windorian culture.
But what truly caught Liora's attention as she stepped inside was the grand feast laid out before them. The table groaned under the weight of an array of dishes so vibrant it seemed almost surreal.
Refreshing drinks shimmered like jewels in crystal goblets, their colors ranging from deep ruby reds to translucent golden hues. Bowls brimmed with colorful vegetables and fruits, each piece perfectly ripe and glistening as though freshly plucked from the earth.
And then there were the meats—roasted, grilled, smoked, and spiced in ways that made Liora's mouth water instantly. From tender cuts of lamb to succulent game birds, every dish promised to be a symphony of flavors.
Liora found herself momentarily forgetting her earlier apprehension, captivated instead by the sheer abundance and care evident in the preparation of this meal.
Her mind wandered briefly, wondering how such a hospitable people could carry any negative reputation at all.
Perhaps the stories she'd heard about Windorians being stern or unfriendly were exaggerated—or perhaps hospitality here took on a different form altogether. Whatever the case, one thing was certain: they knew how to prepare a feast worthy of kings.
High Chief Altan rose slightly from his seat, raising a hand to signal the start of the meal. "Please, everyone," he said warmly, his voice carrying both authority and kindness. "Let us begin. May our stomachs be full and our hearts calm, for much remains to discuss."
His words were met with eager nods and murmurs of agreement as the guests dove into the food without hesitation.
Even Liora, who had been battling nerves since her arrival, surrendered to the moment. She picked up a plate delicately, piling it high with a little bit of everything, careful not to appear greedy despite her enthusiasm.
Yet, as she began eating, her reserved demeanor gave way to pure delight. Each bite was better than the last, and soon she was lost in the experience, oblivious to the curious glances directed her way.
Elowen noticed the stares first, amused by how quickly Liora had abandoned her usual poise. Leaning forward slightly, she nudged Liora's foot beneath the table and addressed High Chief Altan with a wry smile.
"Forgive her, High Chief. Travel has been long and hard, and I fear hunger has overtaken her manners." Her tone was light, teasing rather than apologetic, and Altan responded with a hearty laugh.
"Ah, no need to apologize! When I was young, my appetite could have rivaled ten of hers combined!" His comment drew laughter from the others, easing the tension further.
Encouraged by the lighthearted mood, Altan launched into a series of humorous anecdotes about his own youthful escapades involving food—a tale of accidentally devouring an entire pot of stew meant for twenty soldiers earned particular amusement.
As the feast progressed, the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed. Conversations flowed freely among the attendees, ranging from tales of hunting goblins to discussions about horses, children, and even plans to join the joint army of the human race.
For a brief while, it felt as though the world outside the ger didn't exist—at least not with its looming threats and prophecies. But moments of peace are often fleeting, especially when stakes run high.
General Khanzar Bold, whose imposing frame and lion-like mane commanded instant respect, stood abruptly, breaking the casual chatter. With a swift percussive tap of his spoon against his glass, he called for silence.
Everyone froze, turning their attention to him instinctively. His sharp gaze swept across the room, lingering briefly on Elowen and Liora before addressing the assembly.
"High Chief Altan has something important to share," he announced, his booming voice leaving no room for argument. The shift in energy was palpable; smiles faded, and postures straightened as all eyes turned expectantly to Altan.
Altan rose slowly, his expression composed but serious. "First and foremost, on behalf of the people of Windoria, let me extend our official welcome to our honored guests—the Green Mage, Miss Elowen Verdantia, and her companion, Miss Liora Belle, whom we understand has been recommended by the Six Great Mages." He paused, inclining his head respectfully toward the two women.
Elowen nodded politely, while Liora offered a nervous smile, her earlier confidence replaced by unease.
"If our hospitality falls short of your expectations, please forgive us," Altan continued, though both women shook their heads emphatically, silently disagreeing with his self-deprecating remark.
"But," Altan added, his tone shifting subtly, "as a kingdom, Windoria holds certain values, principles, and traditions that we humbly ask you to respect during your stay." Elowen's brow furrowed slightly, sensing the underlying implication.
Beside her, Liora gulped nervously—not because of the food this time, but due to the sudden chill in the air. Altan pressed on, his voice firm. "One of our most cherished values is this: *'The value of a gift is measured by the hands that receive it.'*"
Elowen leaned forward sharply, her curiosity morphing into suspicion. "What do you mean by that, High Chief?" she asked, her tone edged with caution.
"Are you suggesting that Liora, who has been verified and recommended by the Six Great Mages—and myself—is unworthy? Or are you perhaps accusing us for a scheme to take your precious asset by presenting a fake person?" Her question hung heavily in the air, prompting immediate reactions.
Four generals shifted uncomfortably in their seats, leaning forward as if preparing for confrontation. General Temujin Suren slammed his fist onto the table, his sharp gaze locking onto Elowen like a hunter targeting prey.
Though smaller than some of his counterparts, his lean build spoke of agility, precision, and deadly intent. General Jargal Noyon rose simultaneously, his voice thunderous enough to shake the very walls of the ger.
"Watch your words, Verdant Blade!" he bellowed, his muscular frame accentuated by the numerous scars etched into his bare skin—a testament to countless battles fought and survived.
"We can be far more terrifying than any demon you've faced!" The room tensed visibly, the camaraderie of the feast dissipating entirely. It seemed as though the next phase of interaction would escalate into outright conflict.
High Chief Altan intervened swiftly, his calming voice cutting through the rising tension. "Enough! Let us not allow emotions to cloud our judgment." His command carried weight, and both Jargal and Temujin reluctantly resumed their seats, though their gazes remained fixed, ready to spring into action if provoked further.
Altan turned back to Elowen, his expression softening. "Miss Elowen, you of all people should understand our position. This power you seek—it is a legacy entrusted to us by Saint Lux Windoria himself, passed down through generations for safekeeping. We hold it sacred, just as you hold your own responsibilities dear." Elowen's frown softened as realization dawned.
Bowing deeply, she addressed the room. "I apologize sincerely for my behavior. Please forgive me." Her humility diffused the remaining tension, drawing approving nods from those present.
Altan smiled faintly. "Apology accepted, Miss Elowen. Now, let me clarify further to avoid misunderstandings. While we acknowledge that Miss Liora has been chosen and verified, we must ensure that this legacy is bestowed upon someone who will honor Windoria's values and traditions."
"We want to know that this power will serve not only her and her people but also the spirit of Windoria itself." Turning to Liora, Altan asked pointedly, "Do you understand, Miss Liora?"
All eyes swiveled toward the young mage, whose cheeks flushed under the scrutiny. "Y-yes," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand too."
Altan nodded approvingly, his relief evident. "Good. Then let me outline our terms for cooperation. Tomorrow, we will hold a special hunting season, and you, Miss Liora, will participate."
"To make things interesting—and fair—you will compete with our four generals to see who can claim the most kills."
Elowen gasped audibly, her shock mirroring Liora's. "What? Seriously?" she exclaimed, disbelief coloring her tone.
Altan chuckled briefly before fixing Elowen with a steely gaze. "We never joke about hunting, Miss Elowen. Are you prepared for it, Miss Liora?" Liora swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she replied, "W-what exactly… will we be hunting?"
The room erupted into laughter, led by Altan himself. "Goblins, of course!" he declared, gesturing toward the remnants of the feast.
"The livestock you enjoyed earlier came from today's hunt. Consider it practice for tomorrow." Liora forced an awkward smile, her anxiety mounting. Elowen reached out, gently stroking her back in reassurance.
As the laughter subsided, Altan concluded the meeting graciously. "With that settled, my aide will escort you to your ger for rest. Tomorrow awaits, and I trust you'll rise to the challenge."
A female aide appeared promptly, guiding Elowen and Liora out of the ger. Behind them, the others resumed chatting, their laughter echoing faintly as the two women departed.
Inside their shared ger, Liora and Elowen prepared for the night ahead. The air was thick with anticipation—and a hint of anxiety—as Liora paced nervously, her staff clutched tightly in one hand.
She glanced at Elowen, who was busy unpacking some supplies, before blurting out, "I-I've never hunted before, let alone goblins. I couldn't even catch a chicken without help! How am I supposed to compete against those generals?" Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear bubbling beneath her surface.
Elowen sighed deeply, setting aside her belongings to give Liora her full attention. "I don't know, Liora," she admitted frankly. "Even if I were allowed to participate directly—and trust me, I wish I could—going up against hunters with decades of experience would still be overwhelming." She paused thoughtfully, tapping her chin as if weighing invisible options.
"But we can't afford to panic now. Let's focus on finding a solution." Liora nodded slowly, determination flickering faintly in her eyes despite her uncertainty.
Together, they brainstormed various ideas, each one quickly dismissed after running through mental simulations of how it might play out. Time ticked away mercilessly, and exhaustion began creeping into their conversation.
Finally, Liora muttered under her breath, half-joking, "If only the goblins could gather themselves like Sanctora's citizens when summoned to the square… then I could take them all down in one swoop and beat those scary men." Her words hung in the air for a moment before Elowen's face lit up with inspiration.
"That's genius, Liora!" she exclaimed excitedly, startling the younger mage. "That's exactly what we need to do—gather them instead of hunting them individually. Speed, strength, and experience are things you lack, but strategy is something we can work with."
Liora frowned, both intrigued and skeptical. "What? Are we really going to ring a giant bell and hope the goblins line up obediently? Really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow dubiously.
Elowen laughed heartily, shaking her head. "No, silly girl. But we *can* use magic to our advantage. Here's the plan…" She reached for her voodoo doll, cradling it gently in her hands as she channeled mana into its core.
With deliberate movements, she traced intricate patterns across its belly, almost as though inscribing incantations or formulas onto its surface.
Suddenly, the doll sprang to life, spinning rapidly in midair like a miniature cyclone. After half a minute, the spinning slowed gradually until two dolls landed softly in Elowen's lap—one being the original, and the other a tiny replica no larger than a human thumb.
Handing the diminutive doll to Liora, Elowen grinned broadly. "Here you go, flower girl. This little guy will lead you straight to every goblin within the vicinity—or even across the entire kingdom if necessary."
Liora stared at the doll in disbelief, turning it over in her hands as if expecting it to transform into something more impressive. "Wait… this tiny thing can actually locate goblins?" she asked incredulously. Elowen nodded enthusiastically, her grin widening.
"Absolutely. It's enchanted specifically for tracking purposes. Trust me, it'll work wonders." Still unconvinced, Liora pressed further. "But even if this works, I can't possibly walk or run around all day. I'd pass out after just two kilometers!"
Elowen smirked slyly, leaning closer to deliver her next revelation. "Ah, but remember—you're allowed a horse, Liora. Windorians are renowned horse riders; they wouldn't dream of hunting without one."
"The generals will likely ride too, but here's the key difference: once they find goblins, they'll dismount to fight them. You, however, won't follow suit."
"Instead, you'll taunt the goblins, lure them toward you, and keep riding to the next group. Gather as many as possible, leading them back to the starting point where you'll finish them off in front of everyone." Liora blinked, processing the idea. "But you said it yourself—the goblins here flee whenever they sense danger. Won't that make it harder for anyone to get kills?"
Elowen chuckled knowingly. "Exactly! That's why your approach is brilliant. While the generals waste time chasing scattered prey, you'll have goblins flocking to you like moths to a flame."
Her smirk turned mischievous. "With your slender frame and innocent appearance, they'll see you as an easy target. They'll come running—not realizing they're walking into a trap."
Liora grimaced awkwardly, unsure whether to feel flattered or insulted. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or mockery," she muttered dryly.
Elowen burst into laughter, patting Liora's shoulder reassuringly. "Trust me—it's a compliment. Now listen carefully: remember, this competition is timed. Three horn blasts will mark the stages of the event."
"The first signals the start, the second indicates 30 minutes remain, and the third warns participants they have ten minutes left to secure their kills and return to the finish line. Your goal is to gather as many goblins as possible near the starting area, then unleash everything you've got in one spectacular display. Got it?"
Liora nodded slowly, beginning to grasp the brilliance of the plan. "So… I'll lure all the taunted goblins close to the starting and finishing lines, then eliminate them en masse right before everyone's eyes?"
"Precisely!" Elowen declared triumphantly, clearly proud of her quick thinking. "Now get some rest, girl. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."
With that, she retired to her bed, leaving Liora to mull over the strategy while stroking the back of her head uncertainly. Eventually, fatigue claimed her, and she drifted off to sleep, clutching the enchanted doll tightly.