The priest's grin widened, revealing teeth stained by the red wine he had been drinking. "Reckless? Perhaps. But it is not a madness that blinds; it is a madness that sharpens. In the throes of it, you see clearer, feel deeper. The world slows, and every sound, every scent, every movement becomes a thread in the tapestry of the fight. Björn's madness is not a curse; it is a gift. It is the fire that burns away fear, doubt, and pain. It leaves only the purity of battle, the clarity of purpose."
Nwadiebube, silent, studied the priest carefully. The room had fallen quiet, the nobles no longer raising their goblets, their attention fully captured by the tales of the Norwegian warrior.
