"Yo."
Ging waved his right hand lazily at the group from a distance, his left hand still casually tucked in his pocket. His lips curled into a relaxed smile. "I'm back."
Nobody expected his first words upon returning to sound so light and nonchalant.
The old, beat-up cap he used to wear was long gone. Instead, he now sported an odd straw hat with decorations that jutted out like antlers.
His clothes had changed too—no longer ragged and worn. The fabric seemed to be some kind of smooth, supple animal hide that caught the light softly.
This outfit was likely one of the spoils from his travels.
Everyone exchanged glances, uncertain of what to say. Their gazes shifted from Ging himself to the group of "people" standing a short distance behind him.
Ging chuckled, his hands still in his pockets, and then focused his attention on Germain. "Germain, you're back too? What a coincidence."
"We just arrived a few days ago." Germain adjusted the brim of his tricorn hat, his eyes drifting past Ging to the figures behind him. "Ging, who are they?"
"Oh." Ging seemed to only now remember, stepping aside to make room. "Let me introduce you to some friends I made while I was away."
"Friends?"
The word stirred strange feelings among Germain, Bisky, and the others.
As Ging stepped aside, the "people" began to approach.
Their movements were steady, their steps echoing with a heavy thud thud thud against the stone pavement, revealing their towering and powerful forms.
There were five of them in total, all looking remarkably similar. They had robust upper bodies resembling primates, but instead of human legs, their lower halves were those of horses, supported by four black hooves.
Despite their resemblance to centaurs from myths, their heads were those of enormous moose, held proudly high.
In truth, this sight wasn't entirely unfamiliar to some of them. Germain, Bisky, and Shizuku quickly recognized what they were seeing. Even Menchi and Buhara took an extra moment but eventually pieced it together.
And of course, the one most familiar with them was Sanbica, who had once spent day and night alongside one of their kind.
Sanbica stared at "them" in shock, instinctively raising her head and covering her already masked mouth, as if afraid of letting out an impolite scream.
Their posture and appearance, though slightly different, were strikingly similar to the corpse of the "Beheaded Antler Knight" that had been preserved in a container.
The "Beheaded Antler Knight" was a Botanical Weapon that Germain, Bisky, Shizuku, and Wing had defeated months ago outside the ancient labyrinth.
However, the "them" in front of him had much more abundant lower-body fur, like an unkempt, overgrown garden.
Among the group of "three," each carried a slanted backpack, likely made of the same material as the clothes Ging was wearing.
It was easy for everyone to deduce that "they" were of the same race as the "Beheaded Antler Knight"—likely siblings or kin.
But why did Ging know "them"? And what was their purpose in following Ging here?
Ging had already stated before that "they" were friends, so at least it was clear there was no hostility between the two sides.
The atmosphere of the moment was incredibly delicate.
Ging chose this timing to step in with an introduction: "They are members of the 'Moose Centaur Clan' I met not long ago. They're good folks."
He smiled as he stood with his back to the Moose Centaur Clan, winking at the group as if to say, "Pretend you're meeting them for the first time, alright?"
Whether or not everyone understood Ging's gesture, they all subtly nodded.
"Oh, one more thing." Ging pulled both hands from his pockets and said loudly, "When meeting them, there's a specific etiquette to follow. Trust me, it's better if you all do as I do."
He then turned around, his back to the group, and faced the five Moose Centaurs. He raised his right hand to the left side of his head.
His palm traced a crescent shape, moving from his head to his left shoulder, then to his right waist, before finally resting gently on his right thigh.
The group exchanged glances but ultimately decided to trust Ging unconditionally at this moment, imitating his gesture.
No sooner had they completed the motion than the Moose Centaurs responded.
The Moose Centaurs stepped closer on their four hooves, towering over the group without arrogance, and performed the same gesture in return.
The group could clearly see the expressions on the Moose Centaurs' faces soften. The tension in their previously taut muscles seemed to ease as well.
"Uh..."
Even Bisky, known for her eloquence, found herself at a loss for words in front of the Moose Centaurs.
"Ging, what do we do next? How do we communicate with them? Are we supposed to rely on hand gestures the whole time?"
If they always relied on sign language, it would be too much for everyone to learn.
Ging turned around, flashing a mysterious smile at the group. Just as he was about to say something, a deep, rough voice interrupted him.
"Humans, rest assured. We know some of your language."
The group looked shocked because the speaker wasn't one of them, nor was it Ging. Instead, it was the leader of the five moose centaurs standing before them.
The leader of the moose centaurs appeared more muscular than the others, carrying a long spear and a massive shield on his back.
When he spoke, his sentences were short and somewhat clumsy, but his tone was calm and confident.
"My name is Scela. I am the bravest warrior of our tribe."
This towering moose centaur didn't hesitate to praise himself, clearly taking pride in it. The other four moose centaurs showed no objection to his self-commendation.
In their tribe, Scela's strength was universally acknowledged, so no one felt discontent about his claim.
On the other hand, if someone stronger than Scela were to emerge in the future, he would have to step aside, and the rest of the tribe would have to accept it.
But for now, those matters weren't the most important.
"You can… speak our language?" Bisky asked, her expression filled with disbelief, voicing the question on everyone's mind. "But… how is that even possible?"
Chimera Ants could understand human language because they had invaded the human world. The Queen's offspring inherited human genes and memories through her consumption and reproduction.
These offspring naturally acquired human language with ease. At worst, they only needed to learn a bit to master it.
However, the situation with the moose centaurs was entirely different.
The Six Continents were separated from the Dark Continent by vast oceans. Reaching the ancient labyrinth areas near the Dark Continent through conventional means required humans to pay a tremendous cost.
Because of this, a natural barrier existed between humanity and the creatures of the Dark Continent.
A race like the moose centaurs, which had almost no connection to the human world, shouldn't have been able to speak the human language at all.
The next moment, Scela revealed the truth.
"We, for generations, have known Don. It was Don who taught us your language, allowing us to communicate and trade what we needed."
Though his speech was halting, Scela still managed to convey the key points he wanted to express.
Don?
Don Freecss?
Everyone turned to Ging in astonishment.
Ging smiled and nodded. "When I first met them, we almost got into a fight. It was Scela who stopped the conflict."
"After that, I was shocked to find they could speak our language. But what surprised me even more was that they knew Don."
"They decided to make peace and talk to me because I looked similar to Don."
Of course, Ging's resemblance to Don didn't necessarily mean they shared a direct hereditary similarity.
It was also possible that humans were so rare on the Dark Continent that the moose centaurs thought every human they saw looked the same.
It was like how the group, when looking at the moose centaurs, couldn't easily tell them apart without close observation.
"But…" Ging suddenly reached into his pocket, rummaging around for a moment, and then pulled out a stack of scrolls. "What truly forged our friendship were these."
********
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