His gaze finally landed in front of the crowd, on the robust figure who stood slightly behind the village chief, silent and as solemn as an iron tower.
He stepped forward, handing over the Druid's notes in his hand.
With a complex expression, Aspen hesitated slightly, then accepted the notes and flipped them open under Xia Nan's indication.
The air in the scene fell into deathly silence.
One pair of eyes after another silently gazed at Xia Nan and the middle-aged Hunter in front of him.
Time ticked away, second by second.
Aspen's brows furrowed more and more tightly, and for some reason, his actions of turning the pages quietly became urgent, with fingers trembling slightly.
"Druid… sacrificial ritual… offering… village chief…"
Those characters that overturned understanding flashed before his eyes.
What appeared in the mind of this middle-aged man, however, was only that petite figure who had already passed away.
