After receiving a fresh set of cutlery, Will’s movements became noticeably more restrained.
Perhaps it was because that initial round of ravenous eating had finally filled his shriveled stomach.
He carefully finished the last few meatballs on his plate with his new knife and fork, then gently put them down, sitting awkwardly in his chair with no idea where to place his hands.
“Full?” Shen Mo’s voice drifted through the lingering steam of the hot pot.
It was flat, yet it immediately made Will tense up.
“Y-yes, my lord.” Will hurriedly wiped his mouth with his sleeve, completely missing the snow-white damp towel resting beside his hand—in his mind, using something so clean just to wipe one’s mouth was an unimaginable luxury.
Shen Mo said nothing more, merely raising his hand in a slight wave.
A few maids stepped forward noiselessly to clear away the copper pot and plates.
The stained tablecloth was quickly replaced with a fresh piece of crisp white linen.
The entire process was so quiet it felt almost like a ritual; even the stacking of bowls made no sound.
Will felt like he was sitting on pins and needles.
Several times he tried to get up and help, leaning forward slightly only to shrink back into his chair—the maids moved with such poise and grace that it made him feel utterly ashamed of his own roughness.
The table was soon restored to order.
Just as Will bowed his head, nervously picking at his fingernails, the tent curtain was lifted once again.
The wind and snow rushed in, bringing several new guests into the tent: four women and two men.
Three of the women wore armor; one in particular stood two meters tall, clad in magnificent golden armor, looking as majestic as the legendary Kingsguard who protected the king—no, even more intimidating than that.
The golden-armored guard took her place behind Shen Mo, while the others stood along the edge of the table.
Will instinctively shrank his neck, shifting his gaze toward the two men: one had a rugged face and a coarse beard, exuding the steady air of a blacksmith; the other was the black-clad swordsman who had saved his life in the forest.
The curtain fell, and warmth returned to the tent.
The silver-armored female knight removed her helmet, revealing a cold, sharp face.
Will stole a single glance before hastily looking down again.
An inexplicable sense of shame welled up in his chest, as if looking at her a moment longer would be an insult.
“Sit, everyone,” Shen Mo spoke up.
“It isn’t every day we run into a local fellow countryman.
We can finally talk.” Though Will could not understand his words, he watched as the others pulled out chairs and took their seats one after another.
The maid stepped forward softly once more, serving a cup of hot tea to each person.
A delicate fragrance drifted up with the steam.
Will assumed such a fine thing would never be meant for him, but a moment later, a matching teacup was placed gently before him.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed his saliva quietly.
Still haunted by his earlier humiliation during the meal, he didn’t even dare to raise his hands.
“My Lord, who is this…” The silver-armored girl asked, her cool gaze sweeping over Will, who was sitting with his head lowered, fidgeting with his fingers.
“Introduce yourself, ranger Will.” Will understood this sentence.
He stood up abruptly, his chair legs scraping violently across the floor with a harsh screech.
In an instant, every eye in the room fell on him.
“I…
I am Will, a ranger of the Night’s Watch, from The North.” He remained standing, not daring to sit back down.
The white mist from his breath showed clearly in the still air.
“…The Imperial tongue.
So we are currently in the borderlands between Kislev and the Empire?” the silver-armored girl mused.
“But we didn’t see any Kislevites along the way.
Though covered in snow, this land isn’t barren.
They would never abandon a single inch of usable territory,” chimed in the female general beside her, who had her long hair tied in a high ponytail and wore a red robe half-covering her armor.
“The Winds of Magic here are extremely thin, making it extraordinarily difficult to replenish magical power—Kislev shouldn’t be like this.” This time, the speaker was a woman in a light blue robe.
She held an oddly shaped staff, a half-smile playing on her face, resembling a sly fox—even though her lips barely curved, the impression rose unbidden in Will’s mind.
“No issues on my end.
Fire burns as usual, armor and weapons forge just the same.” This came from the bearded man.
He really is a blacksmith, Will thought, but—do blacksmiths wear full armor too?
He wore a black mantle over his armor, made of a fine material that gleamed subtly under the firelight.
“I’m afraid everyone’s guesses are off,” Shen Mo interrupted the discussion.
His gaze swept over them before settling on Will, who was still standing straight as a board.
“Allow me to introduce them to you, ranger Will.
These are my lieutenants: Guan Zimo, the ‘Little Dragon Scale,'” he pointed to the silver-armored girl.
“Xin Qi, the ‘New Wuhou,'” the red-robed female general gave a slight nod.
“Zhao Qi, the ‘Jade River Moon,'” the blue-robed woman offered a gentle smile.
“Qiao Xiao, the ‘Forgemaster,'” the man built like iron sat there like a heavy anvil.
“—and the man who brought you back from danger, my most trusted bodyguard, Ku Xi, the ‘Raven Guard.'” Will followed his introductions, looking from Guan Zimo in her gleaming silver armor to the black-clad swordsman, Ku Xi, standing as still as a shadow.
“As for me, I am one of the heirs to an ancient empire.
My name is Shen Mo, and I come from Grand Cathay.” *Thud!* Will’s knees buckled, and he dropped straight to his knees before Shen Mo.
He had no way of telling whether these words were true or false, but the man’s demeanor, his attire, and the sharp, lethal soldiers outside the tent—everything spoke to the truth of this identity.
“P-Prince…
Please forgive my earlier rudeness…” His voice trembled, terrified that his crude behavior at the dining table had been taken as sacrilege, and even more fearful that he would be dragged out of the tent and executed in the next second.
“Get up.
Where did that appetite from earlier go?” Shen Mo’s tone remained flat, but his words made Will even more afraid to stand.
“Get up.
My Lord does not like people kneeling.” Qiao Xiao, known as the Forgemaster, reached out and grabbed Will’s arm, lifting the ranger to his feet with a slight exert of force.
The power behind the grip was so immense that Will felt as though his arm were being crushed in an iron vise.
Will stood trembling in place, not daring to lift his head.
Shen Mo offered Ku Xi a faint nod.
*Clack—* A long, black-lacquered box inlaid with gold was placed onto the table by Ku Xi.
The lid opened, releasing a faint, eerie wail from within.
“My Lord, colleagues.” Ku Xi reached into the box—and in the next instant, hauled out a blue-skinned monster with all four limbs severed, bound tightly in ropes, and tossed it onto the ground before the crowd.
“Still alive even with all four limbs cut off.
Ranger Will, you should know what this thing is, shouldn’t you?” Shen Mo raised his head slightly, watching the ranger whose eyes were slowly consumed by terror.