The Crybaby Sejuani

When Heron stepped out of the tent, he indeed saw Sejuani squatting on the ground, scribbling on the snow with the tip of her longsword.

Upon seeing Heron emerge, Sejuani immediately stood up and asked rather anxiously.

"How did it go? Were you kept behind?"

"Not yet... Your mom gave me a few days to create a decent piece of work, and I can use any materials I want during that time."

Heron said nonchalantly, and Sejuani breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this.

"That's good."

Sejuani had seen Harren casually craft top-quality weapons before, and with enough materials, she figured this challenge wouldn't be difficult for Harren at all.

"Now I'll take you to the hearthkeeper of our tribe."

"Um."

Having said that, Sejuani dragged her long sword and walked side by side with Harren.

She was somewhat silent, and seemed rather sullen.

Previously, she had always maintained the image of a strong warrior in front of Herren, but just now she burst into tears in front of him...

How embarrassing… Sejuani felt a belated sense of shame and wished she could disappear into the ground.

Heron, for some reason, started making conversation. Before this, he had always held the stereotype of Sejuani as a "cold, arrogant, and strong woman," but now he was seeing a side of her he had never seen before...

After realizing that the girl in front of him was probably more thoughtful than he had imagined, Herren didn't know whether he should be as carefree as before.

In this slightly awkward atmosphere, the two arrived at a tent in the center of the tribe.

"Alright, this is the place in the tribe where weapons are forged."

"ha?!"

Herren was utterly astonished to see only three small, tattered tents before him, a makeshift furnace hastily erected in the middle, piles of slag scattered on the snow, and forging tools carelessly tossed aside.

There were no busy craftsmen to be seen, only an old man with a graying beard, huddled up by the fire.

"..."

"What's wrong? Is there a problem?"

Sejuani thought these conditions were pretty good. For someone like her who was extremely averse to furnace dwellings, having a proper furnace, tools, and a tent to live in was already a very good working environment.

"...I thought there would at least be a furnace room, and a few strong young men forging iron."

"A furnace room? You mean build a separate building for that? That's too much trouble, and as for the people..."

Sejuani looked at the old fireman and asked in a very impolite tone.

"Old Ian, where are your two apprentices?"

The old furnace maker immediately stood up and answered.

"Well, I heard there's a banquet tonight, so the two of them..."

"A banquet? Ah, I almost forgot..."

Sejuani slapped her forehead. She had almost forgotten how badly she had been scolded just now... that if someone brought a large amount of food back to the tribe, a feast would be held according to custom.

It's not about indulging in extravagant food enjoyment; on the contrary, it's a long-standing survival strategy of the Winter's Claw.

Holding a banquet allows food to be distributed in a concentrated manner, saving a lot of food... The young and strong eat more meat, while the old and weak drink more meat soup. Moreover, although the tribe lacks food, there is plenty of alcohol. Taking advantage of the banquet atmosphere, everyone can drink a couple more cups of alcohol, which will save even more food.

but……

"What does this have to do with those two?"

Sejuani frowned, her face showing displeasure.

Even if there is a banquet, usually no one will specifically invite the stove cooks. These stove cooks are almost at the bottom of the social hierarchy, and at most, they will be given some leftovers from the hot pot broth to dispose of.

"Well... these young people are a bit greedy, and they were hoping to get a bowl of hot soup, since they're not working right now..."

Old Ian seemed somewhat afraid of Sejuani, speaking haltingly and appearing hesitant.

In the past, Sejuani would definitely have brought those two people over and given them a good scolding.

But this time, when she was about to speak, she thought of Herren beside her and swallowed her words back, only uttering a cold sentence.

"This will not be repeated."

After saying that, Sejuani looked at Heron.

"So, what is this furnace room you're talking about?"

"Ah... I'm more focused when I'm forging. I might not be very comfortable working outdoors, and at least I won't make the work area... so messy."

Herren isn't a germaphobe, but forging has become more than just a job for him; it's a part of his life.

Therefore, he usually maintains a clean and private environment.

"Is that so..."

Sejuani seemed thoughtful and silently made a mental note of it.

"I'll figure something out later, but right now resources are limited..."

"It's nothing, it's just a personal habit, it doesn't matter."

While the two were chatting, old Ian was also listening carefully... He could tell from Harren's attire and the hand hammer at his waist that this person was most likely a fire-bringer... He had never seen Sejuani be so amiable to a fire-bringer before, as if she had suddenly changed her expression.

Perhaps because Sejuani had never given them a kind look, even though Sejuani just looked normal and didn't have a sour face, it was already incredibly gentle to old Ian.

Could it be that this person has changed their mind today?

Old Ian looked at Sejuani with some suspicion, but Sejuani caught his gaze precisely. After being glared at by a look that seemed to devour him, Old Ian trembled, stood up, and shrank into a corner to warm himself by the fire, no longer daring to eavesdrop.

Okay, nothing has changed...

"So... are you going to a banquet? How's your alcohol tolerance?"

"My alcohol tolerance? Ha, I've never been drunk before..."

Among the skills of the Hearthland people, there is brewing technology. Although food is scarce, Heren has tried brewing with various things many times, and almost poisoned himself several times. He even suspects that if he hadn't forged a magic resistance fragment at the beginning, he would have really been poisoned to death...

However, through repeated attempts, he discovered that he had an unusually high alcohol tolerance.

"However, I have no interest in banquets; I want to focus my energy on forging."

As he spoke, Herren untied his bundle and casually placed it aside.

"I have to stand up for you, you're the one who brought me back, right? You crybaby?"

Herren said with a chuckle.

However, upon hearing this, Sejuani's face immediately turned ugly, her eyes flickered a few times, and then she said coldly.

"What? Do you think this looks bad?"

Harren was stunned. He had meant to make a lighthearted joke, like friends teasing each other, but he had clearly underestimated the derogatory term "crybaby." For a woman like Sejuani, who aspired to be strong, it was an insult.

He hurriedly tried to find a way to cover it up.

"Please, crying is nothing, I cry too... and I've never heard of a strong person not being able to cry."

"No, tears are a disgrace. Don't call me that again..."

Although Sejuani was still very unhappy, her expression had improved considerably.

"However, thank you for standing up for me."

"What? Nobody stood up for you before?"

Sejuani pursed her lips and simply shook her head slightly.

"Alright, I'll protect you. If Kuojiya causes you any more trouble in the future, I'll stand up to her."

Sejuani paused for a moment upon hearing this, then smiled.

"You talk as if you have some kind of big face."

"Who knows?"

Herren twirled his hammer and said confidently.

"Once I show you what I'm capable of, maybe Kojiya will know my skills and treat me with even greater respect."

"Ha... Good luck then. War Mother is very knowledgeable and experienced. Your dagger won't scare her."

Although Sejuani felt that Harren's far-fetched idea was clearly just a way to comfort herself, she was obviously in a much better mood.

"Then I won't bother you any longer. I'll pack some food for you."

"Okay, remember, I only eat cooked food."

"Nonsense, we're not savages who eat raw meat and drink blood..."