"My Lord—Keeper of the Flame, Dragon of Gleaming Embers. Frost Howl is about to invade, and we need Your guidance: How should we defend Gray Tooth Valley?"
Then, everyone recited the final prayer together:
"May Your will walk upon the earth,
Like a flame unextinguished, like a shadow ever present."
The divine fire flickered slightly.
Skala closed his eyes, waiting for a response.
He had no doubt about the divine gaze; the benevolent Him had always been watching.
However, this was, after all, their first frontal war—no longer tribal skirmishes and private duels, but a holy war carrying faith and facing a formidable enemy.
For a moment, the secret chamber fell into a dead silence, and even the crackling of the burning flames seemed to be swallowed by this boundless quiet.
Everyone remained kneeling, their bodies tense, waiting for the divine response.
The next moment, the flames in the fire bowl of the secret chamber suddenly shot up, surging to over three feet high!
A calm, warm voice, imbued with the power of light and shadow, resonated directly in the deepest part of every Troll believer's heart:
"I am here.
Hear your prayer.
Grant you flame.
I am with you."
It was not a blessing, not a miracle, nor a specific command.
It was merely a response.
But for mortals, this was already divine grace, the most solid cornerstone of faith.
There was silence in the secret chamber, only the flames slowly returning to their original state, indicating that the Dragon God had gradually withdrawn His gaze.
Skala opened his eyes and looked back to see Siye calmly putting down the divine emblem in her hand, her expression as familiar and natural as if she were maintaining her beloved wooden bow.
"He seems to have left," she said softly.
Gulen, kneeling at the very edge, raised his head, his gaze sweeping over everyone, but he did not speak immediately.
The flames finally returned to their normal appearance.
There were no cheers, no excited tears; this was not the first time they had witnessed the Dragon God responding to their prayers.
Almost every Ice Troll present had felt Him ignite divine fire, heal the wounded, and even send Proto-Dragons as reinforcements.
The real existence of the divine was no longer a vague legend to them, but an everyday reality.
However, when the oracle was so concise for the first time, giving no clear direction, a moment of confusion was still inevitably present.
"It seems…there's no clear instruction?" someone asked cautiously.
"Is our prayer not devout enough?" another voice asked with hesitation.
"Or…does the oracle have a deeper meaning?"
Everyone exchanged confused glances in low whispers.
Skala frowned slightly, about to speak, but then heard Gulen scoff.
"Need you ask?" he said, standing up and walking towards the door, waving his hand casually.
"'I am with you'—is the meaning not clear? He's saying: 'You guys finally didn't mess up this time, well done, keep up the good work!'"
Upon hearing this, Gollon's tense shoulders visibly relaxed, and he grinned, laughing silently.
Several other core members who had originally looked hesitant also exchanged glances, and the tense atmosphere quietly dissipated, replaced by a sense of relief.
Gulen's usual, sharp interpretation, at this moment, was like a light dispelling the confusion brought by unease.
Skala looked at his retreating back, a smile involuntarily tugging at the corner of his mouth: "You don't believe in Him?"
"I still don't believe," Gulen said, walking without looking back, "but I firmly believe in one principle—a god who is willing to let His believers make their own decisions is far more reliable than those who constantly issue commands."
Siye paused, then softly added, her voice low but clear: "And…isn't this precisely why we chose to follow this God?"
Skala nodded, saying nothing more. He re-fastened the divine emblem to his chest and stepped to follow Gulen.
A simple prayer ritual had ended.
But the battle had only just begun.
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