As night fell, the Centaur Tribe camp became lively.
The blazing bonfire in the center of the camp ignited the passion of these Centaurs, who were constantly in combat. Many female Centaurs danced around the bonfire like mountain deer, their agile figures performing a wild dance unlike any human choreography, their full and rounded bodies attracting the male Centaurs.
The male Centaurs, on the other hand, uninhibitedly displayed their robust physiques. Some clapped their strong pectoral muscles and danced along with the female Centaurs they fancied, while others picked up their spears and beat their sturdy shields, performing a war dance around the female Centaurs.
Some male Centaurs even started to engage in full-blown fights to win the favor of female Centaurs, both sides bare-chested, their sculpted muscles twisting together, completely unconcerned about the gazes of others.
Many Centaurs who couldn't join the main activities sat at the long, low tables on the outermost perimeter, eating heartily while howling songs of unknown meaning, the atmosphere growing increasingly fervent.
Kalon squatted among the Centaurs on the periphery. Unlike the others, he had a table all to himself. This wasn't the Centaur Tribe showing favoritism; it was simply because his current size was quite considerable.
To Kalon's surprise, the food prepared by the Centaur Tribe was quite good. Before him lay a dinner that, while not extravagant, was certainly sufficient in portion. spices from the forest were simply and evenly sprinkled over large pieces of char-grilled food, a bowl of thick white mushroom soup mixed with thinly sliced meat, and a large barrel of honey cassava sweet wine.
Gulp, gulp. Kalon, with a hearty appetite, swallowed a large piece of meat, then picked up the large bowl and drank the entire bowl of mushroom and meat soup as if it were water. A satisfied sigh escaped Kalon's throat. He hadn't eaten food so much to his liking in a long time. All he ate daily was either raw prey or what he grilled himself, at most a luxurious smear of honey. Even with a Dragon's stomach, which could adapt to most foods in the world, he had grown tired of it.
Kalon put down the wooden bowl. Just as he was about to wipe his shiny mouth with his claw, Sunia, the Centaur maiden sitting close to Kalon, quickly put down her food, picked up a clean animal hide from the table, and wiped it across the Young Dragon's mouth. Her full chest, constrained by strips of cloth, brushed against Kalon's side as she moved.
Kari, the Centaur Tribe leader, smiled, thinking, 'This child is so sensible.' She glanced sideways at her mate, Trogdor, who was buried in his food, and then shook her head.
"Ahem," Kalon, experiencing the treatment of a young master for the first time, gripped what humans would call a bucket-sized cup of honey cassava wine, taking two sips to moisten his somewhat dry throat. "Sunia, does your Centaur Tribe have specialized chefs? This cooking skill might even allow them to open a tavern in the human empire."
Sunia, having finished wiping the Young Dragon's mouth, returned to the table and was vigorously gnawing on a deer leg. Centaur maidens were not like human maidens with their table manners and composure. She looked up, her mouth full of food, making muffled, mumbling sounds.
"We Centaurs only know how to hunt and fight; we don't have cooking skills. This was made by a Halfling slave my mother captured before. These Halflings are very skilled with their hands and can make many delicious foods."
"Halfling," Kalon's eyes lit up. Halflings are a small, intelligent humanoid race, usually about half the height of an ordinary human, hence their name. Most Halflings are simple by nature, extremely fond of and enjoy delicious food, and thus are also devoted to making delicious food, possessing excellent culinary skills.
Just this Halfling alone made this trip worthwhile. Kalon's appetite for delicious food was already suggesting to him to find a way to get this Halfling chef to be his personal chef.
In the future, he could tell the Halflings what he wanted to eat and let them research and create it, such as various stir-fries and hot pots, or various desserts and cakes.
As Kalon thought this, his eyes furtively scanned the camp. What attracted his gaze were not the Centaurs dancing enthusiastically around the bonfire, but those passionate Centaurs hidden in the darkness.
Centaurs, like humans, are species that can be in estrus all day. The difference from humans is that humans have ethics and a relative order, but Centaurs in heat do not care about these. The biggest concession they can make is not to mate in the open, bright area in front of the bonfire. Of course, there were some who, when the mood struck, wanted to fuck directly, but they were kicked out by other Centaurs who found them in the way.
Thanks to the Young Dragon's powerful eyesight, Kalon could clearly see every movement of those passionate Centaurs. Their wild and unrestrained postures caused Kalon's vertical pupils to quietly adjust into round pupils. There's no need to worry; Dragons, these magical creatures, can freely adjust their pupils, which allows him to gain a more comprehensive field of vision.
Kalon wasn't being lecherous or anything; he was merely remembering a saying by some famous person—perhaps the one named samson—"Always maintain the heart of an apprentice." He was now embracing a fiercely burning apprentice's heart, diligently learning those never-before-seen, never-before-heard poses—oh, knowledge.
Why haven't I seen this knowledge in the Dragon race's inheritance? Perhaps I'm not old enough, and the corresponding knowledge isn't accessible to me? Kalon rubbed his chin with his Dragon claw, thinking about whether he should include this knowledge in the inheritance in the future; that should be quite interesting.
Of course, he didn't forget to disguise it a bit; his occasional glances seemed to be surveying the entire scene. Only when he raised his wine cup would his eyes fixate. Although such a disguise couldn't really fool anyone. Thus, Kalon took an entire evening to finish one cup of wine; this honey cassava sweet wine was quite potent.
Due to Kalon's size, there were no wooden houses in the Centaur Tribe suitable for him. The largest building was the place where the Centaur Tribe honored their ancestors and fallen heroes. He couldn't just come and occupy the resting place of others' ancestors. So, the Centaur Tribe had to temporarily erect a tent in the camp, using various animal hides sewn together as a tarpaulin, for the Red Dragon to rest.
The tent was also covered with various soft animal hides, with some magnificent furs from powerful monsters hunted by the Centaur Tribe in the past piled together to form a warm bed. Kalon smelled quite a few traces of ferocious monsters within it.
Kalon was very satisfied with this bed. The soft touch was a different kind of pleasure compared to sleeping on gold coins. A Dragon's excellent body control also meant he wouldn't worry about igniting these precious furs if he lived there for a long time.
However, he still had some regrets. His shapeshifting spell was not yet mastered, which dashed his idea of rolling on the ground and burying his entire body under the covers.
But Kalon still lay contentedly on his bed. This warm bed was much more comfortable than his Dragon Nest. Dragons liked warmth and heat. He opened his mouth and yawned, preparing to rest, but his opened mouth couldn't close. Instead, he asked in surprise, "Sunia, why aren't you resting? What are you doing here?"
The Centaur maiden's face showed a certain resolve. She knelt down and said, "The Centaur Tribe is now Lord Kalon's dependents. I have been chosen to serve Lord Kalon."
Damn it, Kalon looked at the Centaur, who had a resolute expression as if making some sacrifice, and felt black lines appear on his own head. Heaven knows, he was only looking at those Centaurs out of curiosity and a desire to learn knowledge; he wasn't interested in Centaurs.
But he also understood that this was the Centaur Tribe's way of pleasing him and stabilizing his heart. The Centaur maiden existed as a hostage in some sense, so he couldn't directly refuse. Thus, he tilted his chin, indicating that the Centaur could stay elsewhere in the tent.
However, the Centaur seemed to have misunderstood, extending her hands with resolute eyes.
"What do you want to do? I'm still just a Young Dragon. Your behavior is like an old cow eating young grass!" The Red Dragon's scales almost stood up in fright, and he quickly stopped Suniafrom approaching.
"Ah," the Centaur maiden, a powerful warrior, actually blushed upon hearing this and explained blankly, "I'm just about to become an adult; I'm only in my twenties."
"Then it's even more out of the question!" Kalon exclaimed, quickly swinging his tail to push Sunia into the corner of the tent. "Just stay there!"