Skala stared at the black dragon, larger than even a Proto-Dragon, his throat as parched as if he hadn't drunk water for three days.
His tribesmen lay scattered in the snow, some heavily injured and unconscious, others barely propping themselves up, but without exception, all their gazes were fixed on Obsidian.
"What... do you want?" Skala finally spoke, his voice hoarse.
Obsidian's golden vertical pupils narrowed slightly. He didn't answer immediately, but slowly raised a foreclaw, its tip gently touching the snow.
"Boom—"
Shadows spread like a tide. Wherever they passed, snow melted, frozen earth churned, and a throne, condensed from pure energy, rose from the ground. Obsidian coiled himself elegantly and coldly upon it, his dragon wings folded.
"Faith," he finally spoke, his voice deep as thunder, yet with a strange tranquility. "Erect idols for me, cast laws in my name, forge oaths, ignite wars. I shall bear witness."
Skala's right eye twitched—that scar was left from battling the followers of Hakkah, the snow leopard, years ago.
Since then, their totem pole had never glowed again.
"Faith in you, and then what?" Skala asked cautiously. "Will you grant us power? Food? Protection?"
Obsidian tilted his head slightly, a hint of playfulness flashing in his dragon eyes.
"Everything."
Skala tensed: "What everything?"
Obsidian didn't answer directly, but raised his claw tip, pointing at the limp Proto-Dragon.
"It is a gift."
Skala's pupils constricted.
"You hunt Mammoths for survival," Obsidian continued, every word like an ice pick piercing Skala's mind. "And I can give you more."
"Such as?"
"Power." Obsidian's dragon eyes glowed faintly. "Revenge."
Skala's breathing hitched for a moment.
That powerful tribe to the north, those enemies who enslaved their brethren...
"Why should we believe you?" Skala gritted his teeth and asked.
Obsidian did not answer.
He simply gently raised a claw and pressed its tip against Skala's chest.
"Bang—"
A surge of scorching power instantly flooded Skala's veins. His scars began to heal, his muscles swelled, and his bones popped and cracked.
His vision suddenly became clear, so much so that he could even capture the trajectories of ice crystals drifting in the blizzard.
Power.
True power.
Skala looked down at his hands, trembling in disbelief.
Obsidian withdrew his claw, the golden light in his dragon eyes gradually fading.
"Choose."
He left only that one word, saying no more.
Skala hadn't yet recovered from the shock of the power when Gulen's low growl came from behind him.
"Skala! Don't trust him!"
Gulen dragged his broken leg, barely propping himself up, the tattoos on his face twisted with anger.
"The loa abandoned us, and now another black dragon? Who knows if he's just another trick!"
The other trolls also stirred, murmuring softly. They had experienced too many disappointments and no longer dared to easily believe any promises.
Skala was silent for a moment, then turned to look at Obsidian.
"My tribesmen need a guarantee."
Obsidian remained coiled on the throne, his dragon tail gently swaying, as if completely unconcerned by the debate.
"Acceptable," he said indifferently.
Skala took a deep breath: "If you can truly protect us, then heal Gulen's leg."
Gulen's face changed: "Skala! You—"
Before he finished speaking, Obsidian's dragon eyes lit up again.
A black mist coiled around Gulen's broken leg like a snake, the crisp sound of bones realigning clearly audible.
Gulen grunted, then widened his eyes—his leg had actually recovered!
"This..."
The trolls fell completely silent.
"Kneel."
Just as the trolls were still stunned by the miracle, Obsidian's voice came again.
His voice was not harsh, but carried an undeniable authority.
"You have accepted my blessing."
Obsidian's meaning was clear: I have met your demands, so you no longer have room to bargain.
Skala was silent for a moment, then finally knelt on one knee.
Seeing this, the other trolls also bowed their heads, and even Gulen gritted his teeth, slowly bending his knee.
Obsidian nodded with satisfaction, lightly tapping his claw. The black scale from before reappeared, then transformed into a dark emblem.
"This is my divine emblem. Those who believe in me shall wear it."
The emblem slowly floated before Skala.
He nervously opened his hands and caught the divine emblem.
The emblem's overall design was a dragon eye, its pupil a vertical slit, seemingly carved from Obsidian, with deep shadows reflected within the eye.
"Obsidian, the Shadow Dragon."
As the divine emblem entered his hand, Skala immediately understood the name of the deity before him.
An unspeakable sense of awe rose within his heart.
He tightly gripped the divine emblem, feeling the profound power it contained, and a subtle connection was established between him and Obsidian.
Skala looked up at Obsidian, his eyes shining with firm resolve. "We will obey your will, great Shadow Dragon."
He swore in a low voice, his tone filled with unquestioning loyalty.
Seeing this, the other trolls also began to express their loyalty.
"We believe in you..."
"We'll do a good job..."
"Me too!"
Obsidian nodded slightly, a hint of satisfaction showing in his golden vertical pupils.
He slowly raised his dragon wings, and his massive body ascended into the air, his black dragon scales gleaming with a cold luster in the sunlight.
"From now on, you shall be my followers. I will grant you power, allow you to rise in the cold north, and become beings no one dares to underestimate." Obsidian's voice echoed in the air, filled with undeniable dominance. "And you shall proclaim my name, build shrines for me in the mortal world..."
Skala and the trolls all looked up, their eyes gleaming with complex emotions.
Only when Obsidian's figure disappeared into the snowstorm did Skala slowly stand up.
His tribesmen gathered around him, their expressions complex.
Skala noticed that the companions who had seemed mortally wounded earlier were also walking over as if nothing had happened, and he made up his mind.
"We... do we really have to believe him?" Gulen asked, somewhat bewildered, in a low voice.
Skala touched the divine emblem in his palm, feeling the unfamiliar power flowing within him.
"We had no choice before," he said in a deep voice. "But at least, this time's god... truly answered us."
He turned and looked north—in the direction of the tribe that enslaved their brethren.
"Let's go, it's time to return."
"With meat, with hides, with... a new faith."
The trolls silently followed, leaving only a trail of deep footprints in the snow.
A moment later, the Proto-Dragon slowly recovered. After looking left and right, it gritted its teeth and followed the footprints left by the trolls.