No one knew what had happened in that room during those minutes.
While Isara, both Pontiff and chief priest, soared through the Benevolent Father's realm, no other insect could enter that door.
Even though the Sunfire God had never forbidden it, the immense gulf between a god and insects inevitably filled them with dread of that door.
According to the history books, all later generations of insects knew was that roughly ten to fifteen minutes after the youngest council member of the time entered the room, Molga emerged bearing the Sunfire God's command.
If the enemy came, they would fight.
Simple, yet absolute.
The Sunfire God's will stood above all else. Every insect in the Flame Capital accepted that as a matter of course.
The army began to assemble. Once again, they would set foot on that battlefield, at once familiar and foreign.
The supply lines immediately began operating faster than their previous top speed.
A lack of stamina was indeed a problem, but a divine decree changed everything.
As though the goal they had dreamed of all their lives was finally within reach, the insects fanatically squeezed out every last ounce of strength.
Tempered steel weapons from the factories, provisions from the Black Shell Plains, and all manner of new war machines set off.
The Legion's Warmaster, Gron.
The Pontiff, Isara.
The Mantis Lord, Mortas.
And, of course, the newly appointed Mechanical Sage, Raily.
The chief of the Gear Clan could swear she had never worked so hard.
Although less than two months had passed since the last battle, these mortal insects were ready. At the docks already built in Lakeside Village, soldiers and officers boarded ships bound for the opposite shore.
But this time, not all of them were brimming with fighting spirit.
An oppressive atmosphere lingered over