The atmosphere in the camp shifted noticeably over the following days. A palpable, restrained excitement permeated the air. Even the orcs guarding Gu Liang seemed distracted, their gazes frequently drifting toward the largest bonfire at the camp's center.
Gu Liang noticed the females crafting special ornaments—necklaces strung with colorful feathers and polished beast teeth, complex patterns painted onto hides with vivid dyes. Young males worked even harder, sharpening weapons and training in combat, the air often filled with the dull clang of stone axes clashing and heavy panting.
One day, while sent to help transport newly gathered fruits, Gu Liang observed several elder females carefully grinding a red ore into vivid pigment. Using bone brushes, they dipped into the dye and painted mysterious totems across the chests of burly young males.
Among those being painted was the tall beastman who had previously challenged Gu Liang. When the design was complete, he rose, proudly thrusting out his chest, eliciting admiring shouts from his companions. He glanced toward a group of young females watching nearby, flashing a confident smile.
Gu Liang observed it all, gradually understanding—this was clearly an important ritual. The young males displayed their strength, the females adorned themselves meticulously, and the entire tribe was immersed in a special anticipation.
Just then, Alei and Mo Zong emerged from the largest tent. Mo Zong held a remarkable piece in his hands: a short cloak crafted from snow-white beast hide, adorned with obsidian fragments and golden feathers forming a tiger-striped pattern that shimmered with extraordinary brilliance in the sunlight.
Mo Zong solemnly presented the cloak to Alei, gesturing "Please accept this." The surrounding beastmen paused their tasks, their eyes fixed on the scene.
A Lie gazed at the cloak, its obvious value evident. A complex flicker passed through his golden pupils. After a moment of silence, he shook his head. First, he tapped his own chest with a finger, then traced the arc signifying "departure."
Mo Zong's expression darkened instantly. He pushed the cloak forward insistently, then gestured toward the young beastmen preparing for the ritual, as if urging A Lie to at least stay for the ceremony.
Their standoff drew everyone's attention. Gu Liang held his breath, watching the silent confrontation unfold.
Suddenly, Alei's gaze swept past Mo Zong's shoulder, meeting Gu Liang's eyes mid-air. His golden pupils narrowed slightly as a dangerous thought seemed to form in his mind.
A Lie abruptly reached out and took the cloak. But in the next instant, he did something that shocked every beastman present—he strode toward Gu Liang and roughly draped the precious white cloak over his shoulders.
The camp fell into dead silence. Every beastman stared at the scene in stunned disbelief, even Mo Zong was frozen in place.
Gu Liang froze in place, utterly baffled by Alei's intent. The cloak was far too large for him, the snow-white beast hide forming a ridiculous contrast to his status as a slave.
A Lie surveyed the stunned orcs, then made an unmistakable gesture: first pointing at the cloak draped over Gu Liang, then forcefully tapping his own chest.
This gesture alone was a brutal declaration of ownership.
Mo Zong's face darkened, but he didn't erupt. He merely gave A Lie a deep, lingering look before turning and walking away. The other beastmen lowered their heads and resumed their tasks, but the atmosphere had shifted completely.
That evening, Alei seemed unusually cheerful. He even shared a piece of sweet honey cake with Gu Liang—a rare and special treat.
As his fingers traced the mark beneath Gu Liang's collarbone, the light in his golden eyes remained dangerously intense. He gestured toward the festival grounds being prepared outside the tent, then made an unsettling sign: first pointing at the celebrating beasts, then tracing a line along Gu Liang's throat, finally pounding his own chest.
Gu Liang's heart sank. The meaning of this gesture was unmistakable—in full view of the festival crowd, he would have nowhere to hide.
Late into the night, after Alei had fallen asleep, Gu Liang quietly sat up. The white cloak lay piled nearby, gleaming coldly in the moonlight. He gently stroked the soft beast hide, a daring thought taking shape.
The festival... Everyone would attend... The guards would be lax...
His gaze fell upon the tent entrance. The silhouettes of the two guards were cast upon the fur, but their attention was clearly elsewhere. They were engaged in conversation, occasionally punctuated by stifled laughter.
Gu Liang's fingers tightened silently.
Perhaps this festival wasn't a crisis.
But an opportunity.