That evening, in the dimly lit room of Mayor Roder Fuerte's study, the Norse family gathered once more — a rare reunion forged under quiet urgency. Asael had requested this meeting, and his heart pounded in his chest as he stood before his father and brothers, the weight of his decision pressing heavily on his shoulders.
The once lively Fuerte Mansion had grown quiet under the shroud of dusk. The faint flicker of lanterns cast long shadows across the stone walls, their glow barely reaching the corners of the room.
General Odin stood behind the mahogany table, his handsome face unreadable, the lines carved into his brow a testament to years of war and loss. Having traveled from the Hainai Camp, his remaining sons sat quietly, their expressions ranging from curiosity to concern.
