Thirty minutes later, Carador finished inspecting the entire camp and returned to the high platform, where the three leaders were waiting.
"How was it?" Andar looked at the Red Dragon as she landed on the platform. "Were any dragons in the camp praying or doing anything similar?"
"No. Not a single dragon was praying." Carador shook her head, her expression somewhat strange. "Logically, no one should be praying at a time like this... We paid such a tremendous price to break free of the shackles and Mental Corruption. Wouldn't recreating a god now make every sacrifice meaningless?"
Andar still frowned. Beside him, Barrogel said gravely, "...But not every dragon has a clear mind. Under severe pressure and the mental haze caused by enhancer backlash, those of our kin whose will is not strong enough may still pray for supernatural forces to save them... Besides, such prayers were their 'instinct' for a very long time."
"But normally speaking... the shackles cannot be rebuilt in a short time. At the very least, they cannot return within a single racial memory cycle," Andar said, shaking his head. "And even if the shackles and the brand returned, they would require immense faith to support them. That is not something a handful of survivors being forced into 'conversion' by pressure could accomplish—not to mention that Carador has already inspected the camp, and there are not even any dragons praying."
"But Tarlonnd is vast. We cannot be certain of the situation elsewhere," Barrogel said, instinctively looking into the distance as though searching the wilderness for something. "What if... some region has a large number of survivors, and after awakening, they choose to rebuild the church, and their numbers exceed that threshold..."
"That possibility is far too small," Andar immediately said. Then he noticed that Heragol had