Chapter 119: The Test of the Serpent
The following morning, the dawn mists were beginning to clear over the hills when the Overlord Tribe’s new contingent set out. Krag led the formation bearing the tribe’s banner, flanked by Brak, Garik, and Vael, while Mark and his fourteen men marched in line pushing carts loaded with provisions, tools, and mining supplies.
Surrounding them marched dozens of the freed captives liberated from the Black Skull Tribe, who had made the voluntary decision to leave the main valley to settle in the mountain fortress.
That had been no coincidence. The night before, Kellar had set a tough leadership test for Mark and Krag: they had to convince the freed captives to march to the new zone without using force or threats.
Mark, hungry to prove his worth and knowing that manpower was the most valuable resource for building his own future, had spent the entire night meeting with the former prisoners. With eloquence, he promised them abundant food, sturdy roofs, and the protection of the shaman’s warriors. He explained to them frankly that the main village belonged exclusively to Kellar’s sacred core and that, should they remain there, they would eventually be relegated to the margins; in contrast, at the new mountain settlement, every house they built with their own hands would be theirs forever.
Kellar walked with a steady stride in the middle of the contingent alongside Lennis, observing how Mark maintained order and discipline among the villagers along the way.
"You did a good job last night," said Kellar, glancing at Mark out of the corner of his eye as the caravan pressed along the snowy trail.
"I couldn’t fail you, Great Shaman," said Mark, bowing his head slightly without breaking his stride. "If I am to be the arm that upholds Krag’s authority in that fortress, I must prove I can lead the people before demanding they obey me."
"Talk is easy, Mark," said Krag from the head of the column, turning back with a stern smile. "Pretty words build houses in the mind, but only sweat and iron raise real walls against the snow. Let’s see if you keep that same breath when we have to quarry the stone."
"My men will quarry twice as much as yours, old hunter," said Mark, raising his chin with pride. "You’ll see."
"Onward!" said Kellar, raising his hand toward the north.
The column left the walls behind and pressed into the frozen valley. Unlike the previous journey, the advance was swift and smooth. The snow packed down by the oak-wheeled carts allowed them to maintain a steady pace, while the vigilant eyes of Mark and his men secured the convoy’s flanks.
Near the morning of the following day, the dark silhouettes of the mountain fortress emerged through the dense fog of the defile. The former stronghold of the Black Skull Tribe looked imposing yet deserted, with its watchtowers silent and its wooden gate half-open.
"Mark, take your men and secure the outer perimeter," said Kellar, halting before the camp’s entrance. "No one enters or leaves without my authorization."
"Right away, Great Shaman!" said Mark, raising his spear as he led the faction of former nobles to deploy along the upper palisades.
Krag pushed open the wooden gate, allowing Kellar, Lennis, and the rest of the group to enter the central compound. The main plaza was clear, still bearing the marks of the recent battle.
"Lennis, examine the structure of the main workshop," said Kellar, surveying the stone huts built against the mountainside. "Garik, show Lennis the primitive smelting furnaces. I want to know what materials we need to begin reconstruction. And Vael, show me the mine entrance; I want to see what condition it is in."
"Right this way, master craftsman," said Garik, bowing his head to Lennis as he guided him toward the workshops. "The draft tubes and clay walls are intact, but with the Great Shaman’s knowledge, we will be able to double their capacity."
While Lennis and the blacksmiths headed toward the work area, Krag walked with a firm stride toward the raised platform in the center of the fortress, where the enemy shaman’s old stone altar still stood with the carved figure of a dark skull. The veteran ran his rough hand over the cold rock surface and turned to Kellar with a pride-filled smile.
"This place is a true fortress, Shaman," said Krag, surveying the reinforced wooden walls and the natural pass protected by the mountain. "From here, we will control the entire northern pass."
"It is your fortress now, Mayor Krag," said Kellar, stepping closer to rest a hand on his shoulder. "Secure the people, organize the guard rotations with Mark, and prepare the ground. Tomorrow morning, we lay the first stone for the blast furnace."
"My fortress..." said Krag in a whisper, staring out at the settlement with burning eyes. "You are right, Shaman. It is mine."
Without another word, Krag raised his war mallet with both hands and brought it down with force onto the altar. The skull statue shattered into a thousand pieces under the impact, making the ground vibrate as the remnants of the Black Skull Tribe were destroyed forever.
Krag spat onto the destroyed stone debris, resting his great mallet’s head on the ground as he stared at the ruined altar.
"Only the great Bear God deserves to be worshipped here," said Krag, looking up at Kellar with a firm voice. "This place belongs to the Tribe Lord."
At the precise moment the last stone stopped rolling, a crimson light flashed directly before Kellar’s eyes. The system’s chime echoed in his mind:
[Congratulations! You have destroyed an enemy tribe’s statue]
[Do you wish to take control of the altar and consecrate the territory?] [YES / NO]
Kellar didn’t hesitate. He reached out and selected [YES] on the floating screen.
Instantly, a tremor shook the main yard. The broken fragments of the former stone skull began to vibrate on the snow, rising into the air as if impelled by an invisible force. Before the stunned eyes of Krag, Lennis, and the warriors watching from the walls, the pieces of pulverized rock began gathering together once more, melting and fusing into a fluid mass of incandescent stone.