Walter's complexion paled slightly, nervously gripping the straps of his basket, looking around.
This path was usually very deserted; currently, everyone in the tribe was busy preparing for winter, no one had the free time to notice a group of sub-beasts gathered in one place, especially since Rylan, the most beautiful sub-beast in the tribe, was here.
Seeing Walter scared white, Rylan finally spoke leisurely:
"We aren't going to do anything to you, just wanted to send a small gift to Kaelen through you."
Walter thought his ears were playing tricks on him, unable to hold back a: "Huh?"
"Huh what huh?!" Pax snapped again, yanking the basket off Walter's back. Another sub-beast flipped the basket cover open, stuffing their items inside. Walter was completely dumbfounded; he truly didn't believe this bunch of bastards knew how to give gifts of gratitude.
Pax looked at Walter's bewildered expression, couldn't resist kicking him, and said harshly:
"Listen here, these things of ours must reach the hands of that... reach Kaelen's hands. If I find out you pocketed them, I'll pluck your feathers!"
The short wings behind Walter's back subconsciously retracted, folding over each other. The painful sensation of having his feathers plucked haunted him deeply; now, just thinking about it made his whole body tremble. The group of sub-beasts didn't bother saying much to him either; after stuffing the items, they lifted their chins and left, leaving Walter standing behind, both terrified and bewildered. What is this? Did this bunch change their personalities today? Did they eat the wrong poisonous mushroom or did he?
After walking quite a distance, Pax said unhappily to Rylan: "I don't understand why you guys came up with this idea. That cursed thing, being able to contribute to us is already his luck, why do we have to give gifts?"
Seeing Pax showing attitude towards his decision, Rylan's eyebrows furrowed slightly.
Orion then smiled and stepped forward to mediate: "No matter what, thanks to him we became even more beautiful. Giving a few things, who knows, he might come up with something else interesting later, and wouldn't we get to benefit from it too."
The group of sub-beasts thought for a moment, felt it made sense, and didn't object anymore. Where they weren't paying attention, Rylan, Orion, and Mie exchanged glances, the corners of their mouths lifting in a sinister smile.
At the pottery-making area, Kaelen inexplicably felt a chill down his spine and involuntarily shuddered.
"What's wrong? Cold?"
Sane stood behind Kaelen, asking with a bit of worry. After all, winter was approaching, and the weather had gotten a bit chilly. This sub-beast working so hard, he was afraid he would get sick.
Kaelen shook his head, his eyes not leaving the door of the pottery kiln. Inside this kiln were entirely quartz-mixed clay blanks; he had high expectations for them, hoping the fired pottery would at least reach the quality of ringing with a *bong bong* sound when tapped.
As the dry mud was just removed, the heat inside accompanied by ash and dust rushed out, making the whole crowd cough violently. Dammit, the ash from the firing tunnel had all flown over here.
Kaelen pushed Nordhal, who was coughing to the point of tearing up, aside, and stuck his own head into the pitch-black kiln to look, his heart instantly sinking halfway. Dammit, could the entire kiln of clay blanks have been ruined in the firing?
The minimum temperature to fire rough pottery had to be over nine hundred degrees; otherwise, the resulting items would be pitch-black mud jars rather than pottery. Although they could barely be considered pottery to use, that was definitely not something Kaelen could accept.
He also looked forward to perfecting the firing technique, raising the temperature to over 1300 degrees to fire porcelain. During firing, he only wished the temperature could be as high as possible. But now, looking at the situation inside the kiln, he began to regret, not knowing if it had been over-fired.
Carefully squatting down, he tremblingly reached his hand into the pitch-black kiln to grope around. Needless to say, having cooled down for so long, the ash was still a bit hot. Lightly patting away the ash and dust, touching the pot-bellied water jar placed at the kiln door, Kaelen's heart was somewhat comforted; at least the jar he touched hadn't shattered, its shape was still intact.
Reaching both hands out, he carefully brought out the pot-bellied water jar he had shaped and placed in the kiln with his own hands. The expression on Kaelen's face within ten seconds transitioned from worried and uneasy to overjoyed.
"Kaelen, why is this jar so shiny?" Nordhal walked around the jar in astonishment, even leaning his eyes close to look: "So shiny, so smooth, even shinier than the Hollow tribe's ceramic bowls! Wow, it even has colors! Daddy, Daddy, these are colors, right?"
The crowd outside couldn't hold back, rushing up while coughing *cough cough*. Everyone's face was soot-black from ash and dust, but everyone's eyes shone astonishingly bright. Kaelen carefully crawled into the kiln again, taking out the items in the kiln one by one. There were thirteen pieces that shattered upon touch; the remaining harvest consisted of two water pitchers, four jars, three earthen pots, and sixteen bowls.
The important thing is: they are entirely stoneware!!!
Kaelen himself hadn't expected the bowls to turn out so beautifully; holding up a bowl, he smiled foolishly.
Oleck edged closer, carefully using both hands to lift a sparkling small bowl, holding it towards everyone as if offering a treasure: "Look, shiny bowls!"
Kaelen was dumbfounded again. What the heck is a shiny bowl? Please don't arbitrarily name things anymore, okay?
Today, the entire high council of the tribe was present, along with the beastmen and sub-beasts who participated in making pottery. They all stood here witnessing this glorious historical moment. All shouted loudly "Long live the Beast God," then cried while dancing around the porcelain items placed on the ground, making uniform "ho ho" sounds. The birds in the trees also couldn't resist looking down, flapping their wings and craning their necks to sing along.
Kaelen's heart was equally moved. The half-baked knowledge he learned in his previous life, brought to this place, became precious things that people yearned for.
For a moment, his mind was a bit dazed, as if returning to his childhood when the orphanage director took the kids to dig clay, shape blanks themselves, and taught them how to fire pottery.
Even though the pottery kiln at that time was tiny, and the finished products made by the kids were all lopsided, every child treated them as treasures, placing them on their bedside tables, taking them out to wipe them until they shone bright every day.
A light kiss on his earlobe pulled Kaelen back to reality. Everyone was still dancing, while he, without knowing since when, had leaned against Sane, embraced in his arms. If it had been before, Kaelen would have struggled away to avoid people noticing. But today, he suddenly felt that relying on someone else for a bit wasn't a bad thing.
Mossi glanced toward the two of them, then calmly turned his head away, carefully using an animal-skin cloth to wipe the ash and dust off a bowl with flowing purple waterfall glaze.
He had long recognized his own mistakes but kept clinging to his ridiculous pride, eking out a living day by day. Thinking about it, the people in this tribe were just like that. Pushing all their own uselessness onto the head of a child, hoping to gain a bit of peace of mind, how ignorant.
If possible, he really wanted to throw away all his pride, stand before that child, and say a "sorry" that he owed for nearly twenty years...