The Long River surged, flowing into the seaside. The canoe departed, carrying with it the news of Priest Tomate's captivity and the conditions from the Putun Tribe. On the longship, sailors bustled about, and warriors donned armor, not knowing what fierce arguments had transpired. Two quarters of an hour later, the canoe returned, bringing back a hundred shiny, sharp bronze axes that dazzled the eyes of the tribal warriors.
"Ha! Navajo Priest, who would've thought you were so noble and valuable!"
Chieftain Moqi looked at the shining bronze axes and laughed heartily. His small eyes glimmered with greed; he stretched out his hand and patted Priest Tomate's face as if he were touching a godly statue worth a fortune.
"Tell me, with such nobility, if we demand another fleet for a hundred bronze axes, would they give it? Haha, there's also a City-State translator here, let's price him at ten bronze axes too!"
