"And became stronger—gathering nearly a thousand people, training warriors, rebuilding roads, shrines, merchant guilds, and granaries."
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the entire hall, finally settling on Utuka's face:
"Elder Utuka, do you think we are unworthy of Italk? Unable to defend Gray Tooth Valley?"
"Then tell me—who is worthy? Who can?!"
Dead silence.
A true dead silence, as if even the flames were frozen.
There was no hint of triumph on Toka's face, nor any excitement after release.
As if completing a sacred ritual, he calmly returned the obsidian Dragon's Eye, imbued with divine power, to his leather armor, then turned and steadily walked back to his corner seat, sitting down firmly.
Then, he looked up, his gaze precisely directed at the figure who had remained steadily in the main seat, not uttering a single word, from beginning to end.
"I have finished speaking."
At this moment, the flames in the braziers within the council hall seemed to flicker slightly in response.
Everyone's gazes began to shift with difficulty from Toka, carrying complex and unspeakable emotions, eventually settling heavily upon that figure.
Zukora.
She had always been as steady as a mountain.
At this moment, she still did not rush to speak, nor did she deliberately conceal this intentional silence.
Only when all eyes—filled with anxiety, anticipation, suspicion—were heavily focused on her, did she slowly rise.
No words.
She walked with steady steps directly to the center of the large council table.
Her slender fingers extended, not pointing at anyone, but gently flicking the wooden totem that symbolized her tribe.
With a soft "tap," the totem spun once on the smooth tabletop and came to a steady stop.
"You are worried," Zukora finally began, her voice carrying a strange penetrative power, clearly entering everyone's ears, "worried that Italk will become the next 'Frost Howl'."
Her gaze swept over the embarrassed or evasive faces, "A tribe that rises during wartime, disregards rules, is unbound by faith, and will ultimately turn on its allies."
Hitting the nail on the head.
The atmosphere in the hall suddenly solidified.
"You are also worried about the gods." Her tone remained calm, yet she led the topic to a deeper taboo, "This was originally a mortal war; the loa sit steadily in the heavens, waiting for us to determine the victor. This was originally the extension and clash of the loa's will in the mortal realm."
"And what Italk believes in… is not any of whom we recognize."
Her gaze slowly swept across the hall, lingering for only a very brief moment on Utuka's tense old face before moving to the envoys representing different tribes and different loa further away:
"You fear. You fear that inviting a 'New God' to participate in this war will provoke the collective wrath of the loa."
"And you fear even more that heretical doctrines will erode the foundation of faith upon which we depend for survival."
Zukora paused slightly, allowing this exposed fear to ferment in everyone's hearts for a moment, then continued, her voice like a horn piercing through the mist:
"But have you ever considered—this war itself might be a trial given to us by the gods? A grand test concerning the survival of faith?"
There was no impassioned rhetoric, only an all-seeing clarity that revealed the core everyone deliberately avoided:
"Seven loa, giving rise to countless sets of rules, countless tribes each governing themselves."
"We allied because of a common enemy, yet we have never truly clarified—which loa is truly our common 'Chief God'? Which set of rules should we adhere to?"
Her tone suddenly shifted, carrying undeniable weight:
"Look at them! Italk not only has a 'God' but also a system of order sufficient to support a war! They have organized warriors, ample food, clear strategies, functioning logistics, and unified command! These are precisely what we lack most at this moment!"
Zukora's gaze suddenly sharpened, like an invisible spear, once again accurately piercing Utuka:
"Elder Utuka, you question whether Italk is prepared for war…"
"Then, are you prepared to bear—the cost of defeat?!"
This question was like a heavy hammer striking Utuka's heart; his face instantly turned ashen, his lips moved, but he could not make any sound.
Zukora no longer looked at him.
She withdrew her gaze, with the composure of one in control, and extended her finger, lightly tapping the large strategic map on the table—her fingertip landing precisely on Gray Tooth Valley:
"The Gray Tooth Valley defense plan has been confirmed with Italk and is effective immediately."
She raised her head, her voice carrying an undeniable resolve:
"Now, I demand that the alliance focus all its efforts on Frost Howl's latest movements and ensure that the three passes we are responsible for are—absolutely secure!"
"As for faith…" Her gaze swept over everyone, deep and calm, "That is a question we are worthy of pondering deeply only after we win this war."
She slowly sat back in the main seat, leaning slightly forward, her voice softening, yet containing a will harder than ice:
"Under the gaze of the gods, before the enemy's blade…"
"Temporarily set aside our disputes over the deities—we must first survive."
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