The next morning, before dawn had even fully broken, Chief Meng Zhuo got up and brought Meng Tai to the medical tent set up in the Watson Tribe.
Yesterday's three Orcs were outside cooking meat soup, a meal for the injured tribe members at noon, needing the meat to stew until it was tender.
"How are they?" asked Meng Zhuo, with a hopeful expression.
The three Orcs laughed, "They're all fine, didn't complain of any pain. They slept peacefully throughout the night and didn't develop a fever."
At that, Meng Zhuo's heart finally eased. He reached over and patted his son's shoulder, full of approval: "You met such a formidable Shaman in your journey to Eneru Mountain."
Meng Tai wryly smiled. It wasn't his own acquaintance, he might not have even known that such a skilled Shaman existed in the small Watson Tribe had it not been for Shaman Ji Nuan helping to treat the injured from the Dashi Tribe.
