"Frost Howl is about to invade from the south." When Skala spoke, the conference room instantly fell silent.
"The Resistance Alliance has sent a messenger; they hope we will defend this place." His finger lightly tapped the words "Gray Tooth Valley" on the map. "We must make arrangements as soon as possible."
The flickering firelight in the brazier cast shifting light and shadow across the faces of the trolls at the conference table.
Gulen sat to Skala's left, as steady as ever. He wore clean, crisp leather armor and was the first to speak after Skala.
"We must fight," he began, his tone calm. "The first problem to solve is whether we can afford to fight."
"We currently have three hundred soldiers," Gollon interjected, "but at most two hundred and fifty can be sent to battle. The rest are either green recruits or supply personnel."
"We don't just rely on close combat either," Siye interjected. "More and more believers have recently received divine blessings. We can now deploy ten Paladins and five Priests to the battlefield."
The two Witch Doctors present exchanged glances, then Sultaka said, "We can also go to the battlefield, plus the apprentices…"
"Twenty at most," Beno interrupted Sultaka, giving his estimated number. "Any more would affect the situation here in Italk."
Witch Doctors were not only combatants in troll society but also healers and scholars.
"According to the agreement you reached with Shadow Wing, five Proto-Dragons are now permanently stationed in Italk," Deputy Administrator Ork added.
"The troop strength is sufficient," Gulen looked at Skala, "but to hold Gray Tooth Valley, we need more."
"Frost Howl's scouts visit that area every year; they know it very well."
"Also, we lack intelligence. We don't know Frost Howl's main direction of attack this time. If Frost Howl's main force attacks us, even doubling our current troop strength might not be enough."
"So, what are your thoughts?" Skala was not angry; his tone was even calmer.
Gulen nodded. "Let's not talk about fighting, but about deployment."
"First, although some tribes have submitted, many are still watching. If we can borrow people and provisions from them in the name of the Frost Howl invasion, it can relieve a lot of pressure."
"Second, Gray Tooth Valley is not completely sealed off. I investigated it before, and there are three small mountain paths that can be used for outflanking. Third…"
He looked at Siye. "If our god truly cares about us, he shouldn't just watch from the heavens."
Siye frowned but did not speak, her gaze fixed only on Skala.
Skala was silent for a few breaths, his gaze sweeping over everyone.
"We cannot rely solely on the great Dragon God to fight; he has already done more than enough for us. But if divine power assists, it will be a bonus for our victory, not a necessity."
"First, deploy Paladins and Proto-Dragons to form a rapid strike force to quickly investigate the terrain in Gray Tooth Valley, draw detailed maps, and identify ambush locations."
"Second, the artisan group should confirm road conditions as soon as possible. Wartime communication must be ensured."
"Third, the administrative group will inventory the mobilizable population, and non-combat personnel will be uniformly integrated into the support system."
"Fourth, organize some additional propaganda teams, primarily to promote joint resistance against Frost Howl, not to proselytize. Fifth—"
Skala looked at Gulen. "You will coordinate the defense plan. Within three days, I want a draft of the deployment plan."
Gulen's mouth twitched. "I knew you'd choose me."
"Haven't you always been by my side?" Skala calmly retorted, then looked at Siye.
"Also, prepare a prayer ritual. I will lead it personally."
"Understood. I will prepare it immediately upon my return," Siye nodded. "It can be as early as tomorrow morning."
Skala nodded, stood up, and asked, "Do any of you have anything else to add?"
No one spoke.
"Then, the meeting is adjourned."
Everyone rose in succession, pushed open the heavy stone door, and their figures disappeared one by one behind the door.
Outside the Administrative Hall, the wind gradually died down, and the light and shadow from the brazier cast long silhouettes on the walls.
Skala stood alone before the empty stone platform, unmoving for a long time.
He took the obsidian divine emblem from his chest, his thumb gently caressing it, feeling the familiar warmth—warm, steady, like the unchanging gaze of that deity.
"What should I say tomorrow?" he murmured to himself.
"Though you have bestowed so many blessings, your shameless believer needs more of your miracles?"
He looked up, in the direction of the Shrine.
"Merciful Dragon of Cinders, please forgive us."
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