Outside the camp of the Crimson Star Tribe, beyond its towering crimson walls, the landscape was remarkably flat, with several roads carved out among the vast expanses of land.
In addition, a canal had been dug.
It brought water that was transported by water wheels from nearby lakes.
That greatly facilitated the tribe's agriculture.
It was now spring, with the last traces of winter's chill dissipating. On many barren patches, resilient weeds had already pushed through the soil, sprouting green shoots.
"Yara, are you sure about this?"
A group stood at the edge of the fields, addressing the central figure encircled by the conversation. Their faces showed both skepticism and anticipation.
Yara nodded.
He recalled the past events with solemnity. "Back then, the tribe faced a flood, and only a few of us survived. If it weren't for Lord Enzo's timely intervention, we would have starved to death."
"I believe in Lord Enzo!"
