"Amo, don't be anxious! I've gone over it with Azu, placing ten thousand at Flint Lake can roughly support spring sowing, feeding them until the October harvest! Over at Warrior Lake, I estimate it could also support ten thousand, making it twenty thousand tribes total!..."
"Twenty thousand, we can support at most another twenty thousand! But what about the remaining thirty thousand?! These thirty thousand Prairie Tribes, they also came out of the heaps of dead from the cold tide, they're not obedient Vastek agricultural slaves!..."
Amoxtli furrowed his brows in the wind, took a deep breath, and a sudden realization appeared on his face. He glared with old eyes at Moqi, who was slightly avoiding his gaze, and Zucata, who was still standing straight, and asked coldly.
"Ha! In the end, you all still want to lead people southward, to plunder the Vastek tribes in the south? No, this isn't just the two of you... speak, how many chieftains from the tribes support you?"
