Sam was busy cooking in the tribe's communal kitchen and hadn't participated in patrols for a while, so he missed this battle. Only now did he hear the news and rush over.
"Didn't you say there was a fight with Elves? Why are you all in the mood to bake cakes like this?"
Sam pushed open the courtyard gate and saw this group of people baking and eating, extremely relaxed. He couldn't help starting to suspect if he had heard wrong. It was just that there was indeed a strong smell of Elf blood in the tribe.
It seemed it wasn't a big deal. Sam quietly walked to the stove and said to Balu, who was baking cakes: "Give me a cake."
"Why are you only arriving now? You don't know how fierce our fight with the Elves was today, and the magic Little Eric used..." Kevin gestured wildly, embellishing the story of today's battle for Sam.
Sam held a piece of cake in his mouth, forgetting to chew, listening intently.
