"The prophet is here." "Make way."
"Move your hooves." After a flurry of shouts, two tall, strong centaurs, armed and clad in armor, pushed their way through.
An older centaur, well past fifty with a white beard, approached, carrying a wooden stick.
The other party carefully observed Garfield for a moment, then cautiously inquired, "Hello, great being. It is an honor to have you come to our tribe. I am the tribe's prophet, Windrunner."
Garfield, looking curious, stepped over several centaurs and arrived above the centaur prophet named Windrunner.
"You know me?"
Windrunner nodded. "Yes." Garfield had seen plenty of charlatans and was not easily fooled. He countered, "Where do I come from? And how am I great?"
Knowing this was a test of Garfield's abilities, the centaur prophet raised a finger and pointed to the northern sky. "The north, where the Vikings worship."
"As for your greatness, you have educated one demon king toward good and are guiding another. Is that not great?"
The northern sky and the Vikings' worship likely referred to Odin. The demon kings were Grindelwald and Voldemort. It seemed this centaur prophet had some skill.
Garfield clapped his hands, praising the centaur. "The centaur's prophetic abilities are quite strong."
"My other name is Garfield Odinson. Odin's adopted son. The third prince of Asgard."
The centaur tribe prophet remained relatively steady, but the other centaurs around him gasped in fright.
Odin, the father of the northern gods, the ruler of Earth.
Rumored to be a warrior, fond of bloodshed and slaughter. The pirates of the north, to please Odin, often engaged in brutal killings, hoping to gain his favor and be granted great power.
This rumor, given Odin's troubled history, was not entirely unfounded. Odin, in his youth during his conquests with Hela, enjoyed such things.
Some of the more timid centaurs around began to back down. Garfield sensed their fear.
They were afraid Garfield would bring slaughter.
Garfield reassured them, "Do not be afraid. I am just passing by." As soon as he finished speaking, some centaurs' faces darkened even more.
A bit confused, Garfield looked bewildered and asked the centaur prophet Windrunner below, "What do you mean? Do you want to get involved with me, or are you afraid of getting involved with me?"
Years ago, Windrunner, the centaur prophet, had observed changes in the sky and stars to predict the future.
After much observation and deliberation, relying on his prophetic heritage, he had finally grasped some clues.
Now, having finally seen the source of the future's influence, he was unsure whether he should get too deeply involved with Garfield.
As the saying goes, what is meant to be will be. So why not give it a try?
Gritting his teeth, the centaur prophet Windrunner addressed Garfield. "Great Prince Garfield Odinson, it is an honor to have you grace our Hurricane Tribe with your presence."
"We hope your divine light will shine upon this place. We are willing to offer our faith and sufficient tribute."
Hmm. So he wanted Odin's power to protect him.
Come to think of it, Odin would only be alive for another seventy or eighty years. Actually, he was not really dead.
He was just using this opportunity to hide himself.
A god king of the Heavenly Father level, unless he wanted to die or his soul was destroyed by a more powerful being, would not truly die.
"Alright, I understand your meaning. This is not the place to talk."
"Your Highness, if you do not mind, please come to our tribal hall." Knowing Garfield had agreed to his request, the centaur prophet Windrunner hurriedly led the way.
The centaur chief, Hurricane, also cautiously followed with a few trusted followers. The other tribal members went about their business.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Upon arriving at the Hurricane Tribe's most secluded tribal hall, only their chief, Hurricane, and the prophet Windrunner remained.
The one speaking to Garfield was primarily the prophet Windrunner, with Chief Hurricane obediently standing to the side.
Garfield initially mistook him for Chief Hurricane, but upon closer inspection, he realized they bore a striking resemblance.
They were either father and son or close blood relatives. It seemed he had been mistaken.
"Your Highness, please take a seat." Garfield did not stand on ceremony. He floated directly to the main seat.
However, looking at the dirty fur beneath, he did not immediately sit down.
He raised his paw and cast a repair and cleansing spell, instantly transforming the unknown, filthy fur into sparkling clean skin.
Garfield's magic eased the tension in the centaur prophet Windrunner's heart considerably.
Powerful magic and precise control.
Though the spell itself was simple, an expert could see the intricacies.
The centaur prophet Windrunner recognized another aspect of Garfield's impressive magical power.
This unknown fur was a piece of hide left behind after Odin personally slew a powerful monster in ancient times.
It had traveled through many hands and ended up in their tribe.
Due to its antiquity, thousands of years old, it had accumulated numerous stains.
However, this hide still had excellent magic resistance.
Casting spells on it required immense magical power. And even with great power, most would not bother with a piece of rotten fur.
"Your Highness, may I ask if our Father of the Gods requires any special preparations?" Recalling the magnificent Asgardian palace, its opulent decorations, luxurious lifestyle, and various delicacies, Garfield was not sure what Odin lacked.
"The northern gods do not lack anything, as long as they have faith. As for offerings, my godmother is currently on vacation on Earth."
"Odin comes occasionally. You can prepare some offerings. He likes meat and wine."
Turning to look at the tribe's situation, Garfield knew they probably did not have any good wine here.
It seemed he had to find a way to help them.
The centaur tribe in the Forbidden Forest should have connections with wizards.
Buying some wine should not be a problem. "Do you also have dealings with human wizards?"
Meat was easy to obtain. The Forbidden Forest was rich in resources, and their tribe's hunting abilities were not low.
But wine was another matter. Garfield knew they did not have any good wine here.
The centaur prophet Windrunner honestly answered Garfield. "We have some trade dealings with certain wizards and with Hogwarts."
"Some rare potion ingredients or monsters we collect are bought by Hogwarts."
Garfield said, "In that case, it is easy. Just have Hogwarts send you some high proof liquor that ordinary humans drink when they trade. Vodka, Chinese baijiu, or erguotou."
Prophet Windrunner asked Garfield with some concern, "Will these not be inappropriate, since they are offered to your father?"
Garfield waved his paw reassuringly without hesitation.
"No, they like high proof liquor. But remember, it must be genuine liquor, not industrial alcohol." Windrunner hesitated. "But..."
Garfield interrupted. "Trust me. I caught some things here today. See what you can eat. I will eat some and keep the rest as gifts for you."
Staring at the pile of monsters Garfield pulled out, the centaur prophet and chief were stunned.