On the third day, the snowstorm gradually subsided.
They stood on a broken hillock, overlooking the ruins scattered with broken wood and tattered animal skin tents.
"It's here," Skala whispered.
The outlines of the remaining totem poles were faintly visible, depicting a nimble and majestic snow leopard.
However, the part above its eyes had been destroyed by a sharp weapon, its whereabouts unknown, leaving only red cloth strips swaying in the wind, silently narrating a wordless sorrow.
Toka gritted his teeth, and Gollon remained silent.
This was the site of the "Venasu Tribe."
When Skala was very young, his father would bring him here once a year, bringing animal bones and furs to exchange for iron tools and salt from the Vrykul.
He remembered he would always run to play under the Snow Leopard Totem then, only to be embraced by an old woman guarding the totem pole: "Don't get too close, little one. The loa will pick children's dreams and take them away."
But now, those dreams were nothing but a mess.
The bloodstains on the snow had dried, making it hard to judge the time, but they were definitely not fresh.
Most of the bodies had been dug up by wild beasts, leaving only a few skeletons hidden beneath the ruins.
"...Frost Howl did this?" Toka asked in a low voice.
"Unclear," Gollon's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, "but definitely not wild beasts."
"Exactly," Skala took a few steps closer, reaching out to touch the fractured surface of the totem pole, "It was a sharp weapon. Quick, without the slightest hesitation."
Skala led the two trolls into the ruins, searching for anything valuable left behind.
After a while, finding nothing, they shook their heads and returned to the open area.
"Whoever it was," Gollon said, "the people who massacred the village took everything useful."
Skala, however, was thinking about something else. He took out the divine emblem, a gift from the gods, and whispered, "They once had a loa too, but it didn't respond."
"Just like us before," Toka added, "abandoned by our loa."
The divine emblem in Skala's hand was undoubtedly imbued with divine power, because no matter from which direction one looked, the dragon's eye seemed to be staring at you.
"We now worship a new loa."
"A loa willing to respond to us," Gollon touched the divine emblem on his armor, echoing his leader.
"So, should we bury them?" Toka asked.
Skala shook his head: "It's impossible to dig through frozen ground this season."
He placed the divine emblem on his chest, mourned for a few seconds, then turned to face their next destination.
"Let them stay, let them watch."
"Watch how every tribe abandoned by their loa manages to survive from now on."
Night fell, and the wind grew sharp.
They camped behind a wind-eroded rock, the firelight half-hidden by the rock face. The three sat around the faint fire, silently chewing dried meat.
"When I was little, my father also believed in Hakkah," Skala said softly, his voice tinged with the dying warmth of the fire, "He said, the snow leopard guides the brave, and hides the cowards."
Toka buried his head in his cloak, his voice muffled: "Then why didn't she hide the people of Venasu?"
No one answered immediately.
A moment later, Gollon grunted and threw a half-burnt log into the fire: "Hakkah is a hunter, always choosing the strongest prey. If you're weak, sick, or slow, she no longer acknowledges you."
"She picks her believers," Skala nodded, "like an old witch doctor at the market picking spices, only buying what's effective."
"And that Dragon God," Toka looked up, "He doesn't seem to pick."
"He responded to us, even though we were failures about to freeze to death," Gollon's voice was steady, "I had already passed out from blood loss then, but He still saved me."
Skala took out the divine emblem from his Pregnant, and Toka's and Gollon's eyes instinctively fell on the obsidian dragon's eye.
"Hakkah is a god, and also a hunter."
"But our Lord..." He said softly, "He is a god, and also a King."
Toka frowned: "What do you mean?"
"loa are like wild beasts—they are powerful, but they fight, covet, backstab, and usurp each other. They guard tribes, but never unite a race," Skala looked down at the divine emblem, "We've never seen a god before who was willing to teach people how to rule."
Gollon slowly nodded: "The old loa were left by our ancestors—our Lord, we found Him ourselves."
The three trolls fell silent, the only sound in the air being the crackling of the campfire in the wind.
They arrived at the edge of the forest on the evening of the fourth day.
Tall moss-covered trees surrounded the tribe's perimeter, and dense snow-laden branches obscured their view. From a distance, the entire tribe looked like a small island swallowed by the wind and snow, lonely, silent, and lifeless.
"They didn't set up sentries," Gollon whispered.
"No one lit a fire," Toka added.
Skala didn't respond. He had recognized this terrain.
This was the encampment of the "Uglo" tribe, which had participated in a hunting ground dispute with Tok-Aak over a decade ago under the name "Sons of the Bear."
At that time, the Uglo people were strong, united, and not particularly friendly, but their revered totem was Rhunok—the Bear loa, considered one of the most loyal guardians.
They should have been one of the tribes least likely to be abandoned by their loa.
But now, the three who walked inside the wooden wall saw only a broken totem pole:
Broken bear teeth were still scattered around the shattered totem pole, and the totem pole itself had split into two.
The upper half, the head, had its eyes covered with a red cloth by someone.
"...I don't like it here," Toka whispered.
They continued forward, passing through several half-collapsed tent-houses, but saw no one to greet them.
It wasn't until they approached the central fire pit that two trolls emerged from a tent.
Both wore heavy animal skin armor, with Rhunok's totem still painted on their shoulders, but they wore no loa symbols.
They didn't raise weapons, nor did they bow, but simply stood there, watching the three outsiders.
"Who are you?" one of them asked, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken for a long time.
"Skala," he stated his name.
A subtle emotion flickered in their eyes, but there was no hostility.
"We don't accept charity," the other said.
"I'm not here to offer charity," Skala reached out, taking the obsidian divine emblem from inside his cloak, "I'm here to offer a new choice."
The expressions in the two trolls' eyes truly changed for the first time.
They stared at the divine emblem, as if facing some unrecognized danger, or as if seeing a familiar old totem resurrected.
"We... no longer believe," the younger-looking one whispered, his voice mixed with shame and defensiveness, "We no longer trust any loa."
Skala didn't rush to speak, but slowly put the divine emblem away.
"It's alright," he said, "The loa I bring will not abandon you again."