Chapter 255

After the solemn declaration, the beastmen of the Five Tribes once again stared in stunned silence at the altar.

From either side came the priests and shamans of the tribes, clad in resplendent robes, each carrying in both hands some white ceremonial item, and with grave steps, they walked to the very center of the altar.

What are those?

The beastmen widened their eyes, craned their necks, not wanting to miss a single motion upon the altar.

Qi Bai drew in a deep breath, lifted his foot, and stepped forward. Stretch or shrink your neck, the knife still falls. Since there was no escaping this, he might as well open his arms and embrace it.

And so, under the gaze of tens of thousands of beastmen, the priests and shamans of the Five Tribes began the coronation ritual for their Great Priest.

At the head of the five stood Xiong Zi, priestess of the War Bear Tribe. She unfurled the white beast-hide robe she carried and draped it carefully over Qi Bai’s body.

Following her was Yun Zhang of the Cloud Valley Tribe. He held a cloak made of white feathers, placed it upon Qi Bai’s shoulders, and meticulously fastened the clasps to the robe, ensuring that even if Qi Bai moved about, the cloak would not slip.

Next came Lu Jian, the elder priestess of the Giant Deer Tribe. Her steps already unsteady, she still refused assistance, hands trembling as she held up a necklace strung with five types of gemstones. Qi Bai had to crouch halfway down to allow her to place it around his neck.

Then came Wu Rao of the Jufeng Tribe, bearing a scepter made of wing bones from a great bird. Its shaft was carved with an upward-spiraling pattern, its tip crowned with a black gem. One look at its craftsmanship was enough to know it was Lang Ze’s handiwork.

Last was Yang Luo, carrying a white feather crown.

This was a circlet, a bone ring wrapped with white hide, adorned on either side with feathers rising upright like elven ears.

Yang Luo looked at Qi Bai, now draped in the other regalia, smiling warmly, eyes full of satisfaction. He had known Qi Bai would look breathtaking in this attire.

Beastmen traditionally adored bright, gaudy colors—the rarer and more vibrant the feathers and hides, the more prized. Yet when the five priests and shamans had prepared ceremonial garb for their future Great Priest, they had, with one accord, chosen to mirror Qi Bai’s own beast form and hair color.

From each tribe’s secret storehouses, they had scoured together this set of pure white.

The robe was the War Bear’s most treasured white bear hide, its collar trimmed with supple sable fur from the Jufeng.

The feather cloak had required the combined effort of all five tribes to gather enough white feathers.

Yang Luo still felt dissatisfied—he had wanted to craft a trailing feather mantle that would sweep across the ground in grandeur. But time had been short, and these were all they could find. Even so, fixing the feathers to the cloak had taken fourteen people nearly ten days.

From those feathers, Yang Luo had also picked the longest plumes to fashion the feather crown.

Qi Bai, somewhat embarrassed, called softly:
“Grandfather Priest…”

This was why he felt awkward. While Yang Luo and the others had busied themselves preparing this regalia during the Courtship Festival, Qi Bai had been buried in drafting the city laws. When he emerged, the elaborate garments were already complete.

Qi Bai truly felt it unnecessary. Though called Great Priest of Heiyao City, in his heart he thought of himself only as the city’s chief technician.

It was only because so many of his abilities defied explanation that he had taken up the mantle of Great Priest—only under that authority could he openly teach knowledge and establish regulations for the city’s lasting growth.

All the ceremony, however, still made him feel ashamed.

But the five priests and shamans clearly thought differently. Even Wu Rao, usually the simplest in dress, knew that priests must stand apart from the common tribesmen. And Qi Bai, as Great Priest of Heiyao, must stand apart above all.

And indeed, the ensemble stunned every beastman below the altar.

For the first time, they realized how sacred, how dignified pure white could be.

A breeze drifted by, and the feathers and furs swayed lightly, making the already fair-skinned Great Priest seem like he might float away on the wind.

“The Great Priest is so beautiful!” cubs shouted, tugging at their parents’ hands.

The adults did not call out, but their hearts echoed the same thought.

At this moment, none could connect this ethereal Great Priest with the young man who, just days ago, had fought them for food or cheered rowdily for the competing warriors.

The figure on the altar was their most revered Great Priest.

Once the five priests and shamans had completed their task, they humbly stepped back.

Lang Ze had seen Qi Bai in this attire once before, yet even now, his heart throbbed.

His mate truly was the most beautiful being in the world.

Compared to Qi Bai’s finery, Lang Ze’s preparation was spartan, almost crude.

Where Qi Bai was resplendent in white, Lang Ze wore simple black garb, a black cloak draped over his shoulders, his only ornament a horizontal blade at his waist, fashioned from bird bone. There had been no elaborate handover—it was simply a weapon he had brought himself.

Lang Ze hardly cared. He had not even planned to make a new blade; it was only because Qi Bai had sketched him a new design that he had tried crafting one. The blade was made from scraps left over from Qi Bai’s scepter.

Lang Ze lowered his gaze slightly, then drew the blade in one hand. A chill swept forth with it.

He strode forward, raising his arm, the blade angled toward the sky, carrying the aura of one who could cleave the heavens themselves.

Qi Bai, moved by his momentum, lifted his bone scepter and crossed it with the blade.

Clang!

The clear ring of bone striking bone echoed.

The five priests and shamans folded their hands and bowed, chanting as one:

“We give thanks to the Great Priest and the City Lord, who grant us Heiyao City. We shall be loyal to you forever!”

Whoosh!

The flames in the five braziers on the altar roared upward, heat washing over even those below.

“Forever loyal!” “Forever loyal!”

Beastmen clenched their fists, their shouts rising in waves.

The most excited of all were the couples standing ready below.

For after the coronation of Great Priest and City Lord came their blessing ritual.

Even Qi Bai himself was surprised—it would be his first time officiating at so many marriages at once.

For this, he had prepared carefully.

He and Lang Ze remained on the altar. Behind Lang Ze stood two great wooden chests.

One was filled with colorful bracelets woven from beast-hide cords; the other with wooden plaques, all cut to the same size.

The couples lined up before Qi Bai.

He held a small jar of mint sap, dabbing it with his finger onto each pair’s foreheads while speaking a blessing, then handing them a plaque—that completed the ritual.

Yang Luo and the others had originally suggested Qi Bai should touch the bellies of the sub-beastmen, since bearing cubs was the chief concern of beastman unions.

But Qi Bai insisted on touching their foreheads instead, using mint for its cooling clarity.

For him, more than children, he wanted couples to enter marriage with clear minds, to share a life of mutual companionship.

Whether others understood or not, Lang Ji and Zhi—shaman Wu Rao’s student—felt a sudden clarity of spirit under his touch. Their eyes met with new certainty.

Qi Bai’s outward expression stayed serene, but inside he nearly yelped.

Lang Ji actually managed to win Zhi?!

It wasn’t easy. Though this Courtship Festival was held by all five tribes, interactions across tribes were still rare.

And the priests had warned them: unions formed this year were not like the casual pairings of the past. These couples, once blessed, would be bound to raise any cubs together until adulthood, even if they later separated.

Beastmen had found this rule baffling. Not everyone sought lifelong mates. It was common for a fertile sub-beastman to pair with multiple partners, or for a strong horned beastman to attract several mates.

Children were often raised loosely—shared milk, then left to grow hardy on their own.

But because this order came from the Great Priest himself, conveyed by their own priests and shamans, they obeyed despite confusion.

At least it did not require couples to stay together forever—only to co-raise cubs. In the end, it just meant providing more food.

Still, this made sub-beastmen more cautious. Most chose mates they knew well within their tribe.

That Lang Ji had crossed tribal lines to win Zhi’s hand was no small feat.

Oblivious to Qi Bai’s gossiping gaze, they accepted from Qi Bai and Lang Ze the pair of bracelets blessed by the Great Priest, and fastened them upon each other’s wrists before all the tribe.

Qi Bai had decided marriage needed some ritual form. Rings were impractical here—they’d break or be lost during labor—so he had chosen bracelets instead.

To exchange bracelets was to pledge loyalty and bond.

“Hou! Hou!”

Every time a pair exchanged them, the crowd below roared their approval.

Amid the cheers, Qi Bai also handed each couple a pair of wooden plaques.

On each was a design of an interlocking knot, and beneath it a matching number.

Every plaque was one of a numbered pair—Qi Bai’s “marriage certificates.”

To make them quickly, he hadn’t carved but used iron molds, branding the designs with fire. Though crude compared to later ages, the deep brown patterns upon the wood had a special charm.

When the couples received them, the crowd grew even more frenzied. Many beastmen regretted not finding mates this year. Next year, they swore, they would.

A long line remained. Zhi and Lang Ji, cherishing their plaques, gave thanks and moved on, following those before them.

Zhi, thoughtful as always, wondered. Two plaques alone—how would they ensure childrearing? What if one partner shirked duty? Surely they wouldn’t check each plaque against records one by one?

But then he understood.

Below the altar, a large table had been set up. Fifteen young scribes of Heishan sat behind it, recording each couple’s names and plaque numbers.

“These marks… this really spells my name?”

As the scribes wrote upon bamboo slips, astonished voices rose.

The four tribes outside Heishan turned their plaques over and over, comparing the symbols with the written records in wonder.

Tu Ya patrolled nearby. The scribes were children, and whenever one met a symbol they didn’t know or a case they couldn’t handle, she stepped in to help.

Hearing the exclamations, Tu Ya smiled:
“These are the characters of Heishan. Once you join the city, you can all learn them.”

A beastman of Cloud Valley gaped.
“We can learn these precious totems too?”

They had met many wandering beastmen in the Northern Wastes and knew how sacred such “totems” were. Yet Heishan spoke of them as if they were common knowledge.

“Of course,” Shu Lin said proudly. “The Great Priest is building an academy where anyone can study. Unlike you, who only think about your own houses, the Great Priest thinks of every beastman. There will be places you cannot even imagine.”