"Sir Sylas, would you guard the village and stop any stray forces that might slip through?"
"You don't need our help in the main battle?" Sylas asked.
"On second thought, I don't think we'll need it."
Initially, Bjorn had wanted to reduce casualties by relying on Sylas's strength. But now he understood that his people needed this chance to settle their scores, to fight the enemy fully, without interference. And, more importantly, there was one overriding reason.
"It's time to show the ones foolish enough to attack Falun exactly what Falun is made of." Bjorn's eyes gleamed with determination.
Erikson, chieftain of the Black Claw tribe, was in a foul mood. He had been handed the task he wanted least from the high chieftain.
"Attacking Falun, of all places. This is awful."