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Chapter 97: The Last Fires Fade
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... the low streams in brittle lace, Vetrúlfr knew it was time to set his ships for home.
Almost a year had passed since he first carved out a foothold on Greenland’s stony coast.
A year of war, burning, building, and the old hard laughter of men who understood that kingdoms were made only by iron and blood.
Inside the long hall, fires roared. Smoke curled up through the high vents, catching the smell of roast seal and thick goat stews.
The benches were crowded with ...
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