Small Feather's face was streaked with tears, crying intensely, lying on the ground shuddering. It was hard to tell whether he was truly heartbroken, pretending to beg for survival, or perhaps a mix of both.

"Old Feather ran away? With eight or nine hundred captive Yoeme Tribe warriors, and an unspecified number of Wilderness Clan members?... Adding his main forces, it might come to three thousand warriors, most of whom are capable Feathered Warriors!..."

"With Old Feather's viciousness and shamelessness, eating even the bones without a trace… the Opata Alliance of the Northern Valley probably cannot stop him! Perhaps only the migrating and fierce Apache Tribes might be able to resist him… The Feather Clan moves north, hm, that old fox runs fast indeed! His nose is sharper than a fox's..."

The Utadori High Priest remained silent, clutching the Divine Staff tightly then loosening it, just like the murderous intent in his heart that rose and fell. He truly intended to destroy the Feather Clan, using the native heads to win over the tribal people's hearts. He had even set traps in advance; two thousand Tecos Warriors of the Great Lake Legion had secretly arrived by boat, hiding in Reagan Town all along. But Old Feather, following orders, killed the Great Mountain Eagle Chieftain, then absconded with the captives faster than anyone... It left one helpless, unable to find an excuse to turn against him, nor reach him!

"Oh Chief Divine! If only we had a few hundred of those four-legged cavalry of which His Majesty once prophesized… then no matter how Old Feather ran, there's no escaping!… Unfortunately, though there are horses on Great Whale Island, it's said there are only a few..."

"Hm? The old guy fled but left his son here, at my disposal? What does this mean? Leaving a channel of communication, showing submission to the Chief Divine and the Kingdom? This arrangement is indeed interesting..."

The longhouse was silent, save for Small Feather's cries. The hawk-like eyes of the Utadori High Priest fell on Small Feather's body, but he couldn't see his face buried in the ground.

The crying seemed heart-wrenching, but was it sincere? Nonetheless, sincerity was not important—what mattered was whether to leave this channel and a path to cooperation with the Feather Clan, a matter for serious consideration. Facing this issue, the pragmatic Utadori High Priest did not hesitate long before making a decision.

"Bee Eagle."

"High Priest Sir?"

"He is called Peng Guarjiaotexin, also known as Small Feather. He is from the Lake Region on the Highland, a fellow countryman to many of the Kingdom Priests."

"High Priest Sir?"

"His father is also from the Lake Region, without faith, a truly cunning old fox. This is who you must beware of while stationed at Yoeme Tribe's Firestone Town! Of course, whether the Feather Clan will come out of the mountains after entering is unpredictable... And this Small Feather is a channel for communication between the kingdom and the mountains, and also an excellent apprentice to cultivate into a priest!..."

"High Priest Sir, do you mean for me to take him in and train him as my own apprentice?"

"Exactly. He will follow you from now on; you must teach him well, take good care of him, and treat him as your confidant. This child is very agile and has great potential, he can be of great use! Do not doubt him because of his background… because he is a child abandoned by the Feather Clan. He is also a Priest Apprentice with no retreat, having devoted himself to the Chief Divine!..."

The Utadori High Priest smiled, and in front of Small Feather, he told the Bee Eagle Priest twice. Once in the local tribal language, and once in Prepetcha. Upon hearing this, Small Feather's cries gradually subsided, he quietly raised his head, hiding his hooked smile, only to see a pair of hawk-like eyes with no hint of amusement...

"Bee Eagle, did you remember what I just said?"

"I remember, High Priest Sir!..."

"Very good! Then I'll give you a hand, also helping this child, cutting off his retreat, and personally assisting in his true devotion!..."

The Utadori High Priest reached out, gently caressing Small Feather's head, pressing down his hair, and then looking over his hands. Faced with the priestly gaze that looked upon the Sacrifices, Small Feather was instantly covered in goosebumps, an intense ominous feeling rose in his heart...

"Utadori High Priest?... You are... this is..."

"Don't be afraid! Small Feather, you're a good kid, a very promising Priest Apprentice! But you've not yet endured excruciating pain, nor paid the price of faith! Your mind is too active, only deep pain, only unforgettable marks, can settle your mind..."

"Good child, let me fill in the most crucial lesson you lack! Remember what I say, cunning intellect, for true faith, is rather a burden, a load that must be discarded! Just as the bird patterns on your body do not signify piety, but rather expose disbelief towards the Chief Divine. Just like your ten fingers, those two little fingers are actually useless and might as well be offered to the Chief Divine…"

"Under the protection of the Chief Divine, I will personally guide you in devoting yourself! A blood oath of devotion, offering blood and flesh to the Chief Divine. Allowing you to witness with your eyes your own blood and flesh rising in the flames, turning to blue smoke, making a vow of the soul! Small Feather, in the end, you will become the most pious believer, casting aside cunning intellect, gaining reverence for the Chief Divine!..."

The Utadori High Priest, with a gentle expression, took out an Obsidian Dagger for the Sacrifices, the sharp gleam flashed into his eyes. Using a gentle hometown accent, he soothed the terrified Small Feather. Meanwhile, two Warriors of the Kingdom firmly restrained him, leaving only a hand of five fingers. And a sacred flame had already risen in the tent, everything was ready…

"Oh Chief Divine! Ancestors!... No! Ah!... No!!..."

Two piercing screams shook the flame into wavering. When all fell silent again, the gentle hometown voice sounded once more. The voice remained calm and kind, even somewhat merciful.

"May the light of the Chief Divine guide the wandering feather to attach itself to the sacred hummingbird, setting it on the righteous path! The Chief Divine's hummingbird has eight claws, which is a holy and auspicious number, also the most faithful testimony!"

"Oh Chief Divine! From now on, Small Feather of the Feather Clan, Peng Guarjiaotexin, has died in this longhouse! And reborn is the Priest Apprentice of the Chief Divine, fearless and devout Peng Eight-Fingers!..."

"May the Chief Divine's blessing guide Peng Eight-Fingers' spirit!..."

The priests in the room chanted in unison, praising the name of the Chief Divine, with heartfelt joy. Next to the pain-fainted Peng Eight-Fingers, the blue smoke of the Sacred Fire rose sparsely, carrying the burnt scent of blood and flesh, just as the Sacrifices to the Chief Divine, making it unforgettable for eternity~