"And Patriarch El'ran's death, followed by his son's, wasn't helping the people of my clan."
"They are terrified of what might happen to them."
Kal'tun of the Nuwe'rak clan nodded grimly. His situation was marginally better with perhaps a few hundred survivors, but the mathematics were equally brutal. Even though they were saved by Jorghan, the branch families of the clan were mostly killed in the desert.
"The Empire destroyed our infrastructure, killed our scholars and craftsmen, and took our youngest and strongest. What remains are fragments."
Narmishina of the Ma'zenti clan, a woman whose once-proud bearing now carried the weight of survivor's guilt, added her voice.
"We've discussed this before. Individually, our clans are finished. But together, merged with a stronger bloodline, our people could survive. Our cultures might fade, but our lineage would continue."
Sashrutiena of the Dhra'ckin clan leaned forward, her expression intense.
"There are precedents. When the Vor'kalis clan was nearly destroyed in the great drought three thousand years ago, they merged with the Kel'shara. Their name faded from records, but their bloodline continued. Their descendants are still alive today, part of a larger whole."
Ariandal of the Bjornnaga clan, the youngest of the group at barely two hundred, spoke with the passion of someone who'd watched their entire world burn.
"But who would take us? The Amasurata are strong enough, but Madayanti has made clear she won't absorb other clans. She believes it would create dangerous power concentration. The Sarpetaretsu are too isolated, too different for meaningful integration."
Korven of the Housha clan, his hands trembling slightly with age or trauma or both, said what they'd all been thinking.
"The Sol'vur. We pledge ourselves to Jorghan's clan. Merge our surviving members with his bloodline, place ourselves under his protection, and offer everything we have left in exchange for survival."
The silence that followed was heavy with consideration.
"He's untested in Council politics," Vel'moth pointed out.
"Yes, he's powerful. Yes, he's proven himself in combat. But leading a clan involves more than just fighting. It's administration, diplomacy, and long-term planning."
"He has Sigora," Narmishina countered.
"The Sorceress is one of the most politically savvy women in the twelve clans and, not to mention, was part of the Sol'vur clan before marrying into Nor'vack. She'll guide him and teach him what he needs to know.
And more importantly, he has power.
Real, demonstrable power that makes others hesitate to move against him."
Kal'tun's expression became calculating.
"If we pledge to the Sol'vur, we'd be gambling everything on an unknown. But if we're honest with ourselves, we're already gambling. The alternative is slow extinction. At least this way, we'd be choosing how we end rather than simply fading away."
"There's another consideration," Sashrutiena said carefully, her voice dropping even lower. "Bloodline preservation. If we merge with the Sol'vur, we should ensure the genetics truly integrate. That means marriage alliances and children born from unions between our surviving members and Jorghan's line."
She paused, then said what everyone was thinking but no one had voiced.
"We should send women to him. Our strongest, our best. Make alliances not just political but biological. If children are born carrying both our bloodlines and the Berserk Lord genetics, then we don't just survive; we become part of something stronger and an epic clan."
Ariandal's eyebrows rose.
"You're suggesting we essentially offer our daughters to buy protection through marriage and childbearing."
"I'm suggesting we recognize reality," Sashrutiena replied firmly.
"Our clans are dying. Traditional approaches have failed. If creating family bonds with the most powerful combat bloodline in Council history is what it takes to ensure our people have a future, then yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting."
Korven nodded slowly.
"There are worse fates than becoming part of the Sol'vur clan. Ser'gu might have been violent, but his people were treated well. He was loyal to those under his protection, even if he was merciless to enemies."
"And his son?" Vel'moth asked.
"What do we actually know about Jorghan beyond combat prowess?"
He was skeptical about this, as Jorghan killed his patriarch.
Narmishina smiled slightly.
"I've made inquiries. Spoken with Sigora and with others who've interacted with him. He's intelligent, pragmatic, and capable of mercy but not weak. He protects those he considers his responsibility, sometimes at significant personal cost. That's the kind of leader a dying clan needs."
"So we're agreed?"
Kal'tun looked around the circle, seeing various degrees of acceptance on their faces.
"We approach him, formally offer to merge our clans with the Sol'vur, and accept whatever terms he sets in exchange for his protection and the continuation of our bloodlines?"
One by one, they nodded.
"Tomorrow," Vel'moth decided.
"After the Council session, before the political situation becomes more complicated. We make our offer and see if he's willing to become something more than just a clan head of his own people."
They were about to disperse when Narmishina added one final thought.
"And if he refuses? If he decides six dying clans are more of a burden than an asset?"
The silence that followed was answer enough.
They had no alternative plan.
This was their last gamble.
*
The soft echo of approaching footsteps shattered their quiet conspiracy.
Leather boots. Unhurried.
The six patriarchs stiffened almost in unison.
From the shadowed edge of the alcove stepped a lone figure clad in the black-and-emerald colors of the Nor'vack clan. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his body honed by years of combat rather than age. Power rolled off him in heavy waves—raw, aggressive, and unrefined. His face was youthful, almost handsome, but his eyes were cold with entitlement.
Kael'var.
The youngest elder in Nor'vack history.
Raised not by wisdom but by violence.
After the incident with Jorghan, Kael'var decided to seclude himself and get stronger. He still remembered the day when Jorghan came back and warned him. And when he saw Jorghan back on the isles, right after the floating island reached the desert, he was beyond angry.
He couldn't understand how Jorghan was so powerful, and the resentment only grew as the events continued.
Now he had become an official clan head.
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