Pact of Blood
"The woman from the lower veins has tamed the sovereign beasts. Today, she takes the eastern valleys; tomorrow, she will chain the winds themselves, and your mountain tribes will be forced to bow as slaves to her new empire. She is not a savior—she is a tyrant in the making."
The chieftain of the western mountain clan, a scarred warrior named Kaelen, gripped his heavy battle-axe tightly, his eyes narrowing with bitter resentment. "No one chains the mountain wind," Kaelen growled, his voice deep and menacing. "If she comes for our skies, she meets our steel." Vlad smiled inwardly, concealing his malicious satisfaction beneath a mask of somber concern. His plan was falling into place.