The stars shone brightly in the vast heavens.

A solitary moon gazed down upon the desolate, remote Wilderness.

At this time of year, the land was sealed in ice for thousands of miles, with hardly a soul in sight.

The Thorn Corps camp stretched for several miles, but it was mostly silent. Only a few sparse braziers flickered between the tents, casting a faint glow. Patrol soldiers moved silently amongst the shelters, ever-watchful for a surprise attack.

However, in the High Cliff Castle camp, a grand bonfire party was in full swing.

Frozen mutton and beef were thawed and hung on roasting racks, drops of fat sizzling and dripping as they were seared by the orange-red flames.

One by one, barrels of chilled wine were uncorked and poured into the stomachs of the Panda Warriors, which seemed to hold more than the barrels themselves.

Levi used his own special blend of chili powder and spices on the roast, and even the Ice and Snow Priests, who never ate spicy food, were starting to come around.

Surprisingly, Masha’s praise was effusive. She explained that she came from a common family where they sometimes used chili for seasoning, but it was never more than just spicy.

But the Lord’s use of it was nothing short of divine.

Beyond the mild heat, it completely masked the gamey taste of the mutton, releasing a unique, fragrant aroma.

"Lord, your hospitality has us overwhelmed. Please allow us to perform the War Dance of the Panta Race as a token of our gratitude."

At the height of the festivities, Panda rose and spoke.

"I’ve long heard of the Panta Race’s War Dance, but I’ve never seen it before," Levi nodded with a smile.

Several dozen Panda Warriors walked to an empty space, lined up neatly, and under Panda’s lead, began to perform the most ancient War Dance, unique to the Panta Race.

The longing for beauty is a language that needs no translation. The Beastman Barbarians had their own War Dances, which Levi had seen every time High Cliff Castle held a gathering.

But this War Dance of the Panda Warriors was entirely different. Their movements, seemingly slow, were fluid and possessed a unique charm, interspersed with flashes of Martial Arts.

If the Barbarians’ War Dance evoked a primitive feeling of wrestling wild bears and staining the heavens with blood...

...then the War Dance of these Panda People felt like lofty mountains and flowing water, like an immovable, steadfast boulder.

It would remain poised and fearless, no matter how many thorns blocked the path ahead.

The Lord led the thunderous applause.

"My Lord, did you know that the winter solstice is the most important festival for the Northern People?" Masha said, cradling her heated wine with a wistful expression.

"Because the Northern People believe that on this day, power is transferred, and the Ice and Snow Goddess takes command of this land."

"Families large and small will gather together, eat delicious food, drink warm, sweet goat’s milk, and finally, perform a Bolero Dance to welcome the Goddess’s arrival, believing she will bless them in the days to come."

For the North, where seventy to eighty percent of the population worships the Ice and Snow Goddess, winter is even more beloved than spring. During this season, strenuous labor is a distant memory, and they can spend the wonderful winter months inside their warm homes.

Therefore, the winter solstice was their most important festival. ’Its significance is on par with the Spring Festival from my past life.’

Levi was vaguely aware of these customs, so he simply nodded.

Masha took a sip of her wine, then rose and walked to an empty space near the bonfire, where she stood poised and resolute.

"Although there is still some time until the winter solstice, the ice and snow have arrived earlier than usual this year."

She looked at the Lord, her small face flushed red by the orange glow of the fire, and for a moment, it was impossible to tell whether it was a girlish blush or just the color of the flames.

"My Lord, this may be sudden, but I would like to ask you to dance the Bolero with me, as an early celebration for this year’s winter solstice."

The young woman gathered her courage and loudly stated her wish.

’High Cliff Castle is so different.’ Though she had only been here a short time, Masha could already feel an unrestrained sense of freedom.

’Humans can chat happily with Beastmen, and the Panda People and Beastman Barbarians are arm-in-arm, calling each other brothers.’

’It’s like one big family here, embracing everyone without prejudice.’

’And the Lord himself is so gentle and easy to get along with, completely without airs. Some of his ideas align perfectly with mine, as if he’s one of the all-knowing Gods, able to see right into my heart.’

"Go on, Boss, say yes!" Zat, the brute, loved stirring the pot and was the first to start whistling.

"Yeah, yeah! Chief, even though I’m a Beastman, I can tell this girl is gorgeous."

"That’s right, Lord! Say yes! We Federation People would never refuse a maiden’s request."

The High Cliff Castle Warriors, all too happy to fan the flames, began to tease their leader.

The Panda Warriors chugged their wine, grinning from ear to ear.

It had been a long time since they could drink so freely, and tonight, they were determined to have their fill.

Panda’s expression grew nostalgic, an irrepressible smile tugging at his lips. Having lived in human society for a long time, he’d learned one thing from a human girl.

’A girl’s blush says more than any words... hmm... that was a very long time ago...’

He was lost in thought.

Fu Jin looked like he wanted to say something, but upon seeing the stubborn determination in the young woman’s eyes, he fell silent, stroking the Sapphire on his staff.

As Masha’s teacher, he knew her personality all too well.

’He longed to tell the girl that some things are simply not meant to be, that even if you fight for them with all your might, it will only end in emptiness.’

’But then Fu Jin remembered his own youth. Hadn’t he been unable to form a Magic Seed, mocked by all as "Fu Jin the powerless reject"? Yet he had persisted in his meditation, and now, hadn’t he become a Middle Level Mage, far surpassing all those who had laughed at him?’

Mier, however, was frozen, his face a mask of vigilance. He felt a profound sense of crisis.

’He and his sister were here first! And his own sister hadn’t even had a dance with her future husband yet!’

In a rush of blood to the head, he blurted out, "Miss Masha, I can dance with you too."

"Dance? Are you even an adult? You want to dance?!"

"Watch it, or I’ll tell your sister when we get back!"

The Lord rapped the boy on the head, then dusted himself off as he rose from the ground.

"Masha, although I’d love to dance the Bolero with you, to be honest, I’m a southerner. I don’t know this dance."

The Lord, for once, spoke the truth.

’Frankly, whether his goal was to poach her or something else, agreeing to the dance was clearly the easiest way to build rapport.’

’But the hard truth was that he, the Lord, genuinely didn’t know the dance. If he puffed himself up and tried anyway, making a fool of himself would be the least of his worries. If it shattered the image he had so carefully constructed, the loss would far outweigh any gain.’

Masha’s face lit up with a smile. "My Lord..."