They switched to a sled at the outpost, pulled by tamed ice wolves, and headed east along a compacted ice road.
Lukare was located behind the valley, a typical fortress town.
Pointed wooden houses and tents sewn from animal hides were scattered across the hillside, and low walls, pieced together from frozen earth and wooden stakes, were covered with a thin layer of frost, gleaming with a lead-gray, cold light under the setting sun.
"Are you ready with your explanation?" the messenger at the front of the sled asked in a low voice.
Toka shrugged, "I don't plan to lie."
"Then you'd better not cause trouble in Lukare," the messenger grumbled, jumping off the sled.
The camp gate of Lukare opened, and a female warrior, cloaked in white and blue, came to meet them, her gaze lingering on Toka for half a second before moving away.
"Welcome, guest from afar," her voice was steady, but the hand gripping her waist knife remained tense, "I am Fusar, Ms. Zukora's chief guard."
"Toka, representing Skala and Italk," Toka returned the greeting politely, while carefully observing the chief guard.
Fusar's gaze was firm and sharp, revealing a strength that could not be underestimated.
Though her build was not large, her muscles were taut, and her movements showed signs of long-term training.
"The name Skala has been quite popular recently," Fusar seemed to try to ease the atmosphere, but clearly wasn't good at it, her face twitched twice before returning to seriousness, "Please follow me, Ms. Zukora is waiting."
Fusar turned and led Toka through the camp gate, entering Lukare.
Toka stepped to follow, quietly looking around.
The internal layout of Lukare was more compact than it appeared from afar.
The streets were narrow, with wooden houses and tents on both sides almost squeezed together; each building had stacks of spare firewood and dry grass, always prepared for the next blizzard.
Toka quickly scanned, feeling that everything was orderly:
Sentinels patrolled, soldiers trained, troll women queued at the well for water, and there were even a few half-grown children doing running drills.
It looked very normal.
But when Toka's gaze fell on the details, he noticed an indescribable strangeness: the hands of several old women holding empty water buckets trembled slightly, and the density of sentinels seemed much greater than in Italk.
Toka wasn't particularly knowledgeable about the intricacies of this, but he could feel that the atmosphere here was noticeably tenser, and he kept all of this in mind.
As Fusar walked, she occasionally nodded to passersby and guards on either side.
She was clearly very familiar with this place and tried her best to appear composed.
But Toka acutely noticed that everyone who passed them—whether warrior, woman, or elder—deliberately avoided looking at him.
Even a few youths training by the square, upon noticing them, immediately dispersed with a ruckus.
Toka frowned and asked in a low voice, "Has something happened here recently?"
"Something happened? Who hasn't had something happen?" Fusar replied without turning her head, her tone perfunctory, "Don't mind them, they're just not used to strangers."
"Why?"
"Ms. Zukora will explain it to you in detail," she interrupted Toka, turning to step up a stone staircase.
Toka asked no more questions, only slowed his pace slightly, his gaze becoming more alert.
They arrived in front of a wood-and-stone assembly hall deep within the camp.
Two fully armed guards stood at the entrance, both with blue and white double-lined emblems on their chests, yet beneath them, they wore completely different tribal symbols.
Toka didn't recognize all the tribal symbols, but Siye had given him a crash course before he left.
So he knew the one on the left was from the White Throat Ridge tribe, and the one on the right was from Stone Crevice Valley.
This city belonged to Ms. Zukora's tribe, but the guards were cobbled together by the Resistance Alliance.
"Go in," Fusar pushed open the heavy door, bowing inside, "Ms. Zukora is waiting for you."
She did not follow him in, turning to leave, leaving Toka alone standing at the door.
Before entering, Toka took a deep breath.
The assembly hall was warm and quiet, the flames in the brazier crackling softly, illuminating the figure leaning back in a chair not far away.
A middle-aged female troll was looking at him.
Her face was stern, her brows and eyes steady, and her skin bore the marks of weathering.
"Welcome," Zukora spoke, her voice deep, rational, and with an almost imperceptible weariness, "We… have much to discuss."
Silence fell in the assembly hall, with only the flickering firelight remaining.
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