As the last of the memories settled, clarity sharpened in his gaze. A fragment of an ancient blessing now flowed in his blood. Yet unlike the Vikings, who bore an unbroken bond to their gods, he felt no divine presence, only the echo of it.
"My Lord."
Skitz's voice cut through the haze, pulling him back to the now.
Lumberling blinked once, the last image of a burning longship fading from his mind. "Let's return immediately. These enemies… they're dangerous, and they're heading for the city."
Without another word, they broke into a sprint, shadows streaking through the dark forest until the city's walls loomed ahead.
Torches burned along the walls, their light flickering across steel and determined faces. The captains and his soldiers stood ready. Beside them, the Baron waited with his captain, Derrek, and Uncle Eldric.
Aren stepped forward the moment Lumberling appeared. "My Lord, did the Sengolio return?"
