As Zayzal stepped into the expansive house, he was immediately struck by its grandeur. Intricate carvings adorned the walls, and the air was rich with the mingling scents of woodsmoke and dried herbs. Elderly portraits, reminiscent of Sera and her lineage, silently observed him.

The vastness of the house was unmistakable. Every corner bespoke the hands of a master craftsman: rugs, carvings, chairs—all bearing the unmistakable mark of true artistry.

Sera's parents, Chief Sigurd and his wife Astrid sat on raised chairs draped with furs. Both had an air of regality about them, exuding authority and leadership.

Now that it wasn’t pitch black out and he wasn’t exhausted, he could finally get a better look at the man.

Sigurd was a massive hulk of a man. He stood at least 6 inches taller than Zayzal, somewhere around 6’8”(203 cm). He had broad shoulders, rippling muscles, and scars scattered across his body. On his right arm, he noticed a Dragon tattoo. He had dirty-blonde hair in a classic Viking cut tied into a ponytail with bright blue eyes.

On the other hand, the woman looked a bit younger. She was middle-aged but with surprisingly soft, tanned features and auburn hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. She was dressed in a linen undershirt covered by a finely embroidered wool apron dress(smokkr).

She had a light smile on her face as she stared at Zayzal, staring him up and down like he was some sort of object.

“Zayzal, come closer,” Sigurd beckoned, his voice deep and commanding yet not unkind.

Zayzal hesitated for a moment before taking a few steps forward and sitting down in a chair across from them, adjacent to Sera.

“You've done much for our village in just the short time you've been here,” Astrid said, her voice soft and melodic. “You have my thanks for taking care of our daughter in that unknown place. If someone-” she shot her husband a glare, “was a bit more intelligent, he would’ve led the charge in the dungeon, not her.”

Sigurd grunted but didn’t refute her words.

However, Sera felt the need to speak up. “Mother! Father didn’t know-”

Astrid waved her hand, telling Sera to stop. “I understand, and I’m glad everything worked out, but just take this as an opportunity to learn. The world is changing. Your father should’ve realized that and taken the proper steps, even if you were in the heat of battle.”

The room fell silent, contemplating Astrid’s words. She had a heavy Scandinavian accent, making it hard for Zayzal to fully understand her intentions, but it seemed like she wasn’t scolding them. She just wanted them to not make the same mistake again.

Astrid continued, her gaze now resting on Zayzal, “But that's not why you are here today. We’ve gathered to discuss the future and your role in it.”

Zayzal nodded slowly, carefully considering his words. “I see… So, you want to know if I plan to stay here or not.”

Sigurd and Astrid smiled and nodded.

“Smart,” Sigurd said, his eyes staring down at him like a tiger to its prey. “Yes. Your talents are too unique. Not only did you help Sera get stronger… stronger than me… but I saw you assisting Gunnar. Having someone like you around is all the assurance this village needs if we want to weather this storm together.”

“Don’t mind him, Zayzal,” Astrid interjected. “We aren’t barbarians. We won’t force you to stay if you don’t want to, but we would greatly appreciate you using your talent to help us take our first steps in this changing world.”

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Zayzal fell into a contemplative silence.

If he were being honest, he didn’t want to stay on this god-forsaken mountain any longer. It was cold as hell, snowstorms 24/7, and he’d almost died many times just on the first day after the light descended.

He might have an [Adaptability] talent, but that could only take him so far.

Not to mention, he needed to go home and check up on his family.

“...I’ll do what I can while I’m here,” He said after much thinking. Sera’s eyes brightened at his words, only to dim after hearing his next. “However, I do need to leave soon. I don’t know what’s going on with the rest of the world, and I have to make sure my family is safe.”

Sigurd and Astrid exchanged a glance, understanding yet reluctant. It was a natural impulse to want to hold onto such an asset, but they were also compassionate leaders, able to see past their immediate desires.

“That’s understandable,” Astrid murmured, her voice empathetic. “Family comes first. We would be no different in your shoes.”

Sera, however, looked crestfallen. “I thought...” she began, her voice a mere whisper, “I thought you would stay longer.”

Zayzal turned to her, guilt evident in his eyes. He didn’t expect the brave warrioress to make such an expression. “Sera, our adventure in the dungeon, the things we’ve gone through in such a short amount of time... I’ll remember it forever. But my family back in Greece doesn’t know anything about me. They don’t know if I’m alive, dead, or something else. I owe it to them to return and ensure they’re safe.”

“Your homeland,” Sigurd began, curious, “Greece, you said? What is it like? Is it as cold and harsh as our mountains?”

Zayzal chuckled softly, “Quite the opposite. Greece is warm, with vast landscapes that stretch from sandy beaches to ancient ruins. It's a place of history, where the sun kisses the land, and the sea surrounds us.”

Astrid, clearly intrigued, said, “It sounds enchanting. A place where one can bask in the sun and hear tales of old gods and heroes.”

“It is,” Zayzal agreed, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. “And if circumstances permit, I would like to extend an invitation to you, especially Sera, to come and see it for yourselves.”

Sigurd raised a brow, “An intriguing offer. But the world, as you said, is changing. There's much uncertainty.”

“Yes,” Astrid chimed in, “but perhaps it’s precisely the time to embrace change and step out of our comfort zones. Sera, what do you think?”

Sigurd frowned at his wife’s words, not wanting to send her daughter off with a man. But on second thought, there were hardly any men more suitable than Zayzal to take care of his daughter.

‘Not only is he skilled, but he has a valiant heart and a talent perfectly suited for her. Perhaps sending her out into the world with him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.’ He thought, keeping his mouth shut and letting his wife do the talking.

Sera, though still disappointed, looked thoughtful. “...I’ll have to think about it. I’ve never left the village for longer than a few days and would like to speak with my parents about it more.”

Zayzal nodded in understanding. "Take your time. It's a big decision."

Astrid smiled gently at her daughter, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Sera’s ear. "All we want is for you to be safe and happy. Whether that's here, in our village, or abroad in a world that’s rapidly shifting."

The chief shifted in his chair, glancing towards his daughter and then back to Zayzal. "Regardless of what you both decide, know this, Zayzal: You will always have a place in our village, and our gratitude is boundless. You came to us as a stranger, but you leave as kin."

Zayzal's gaze softened, the weight of their words settling heavily on his shoulders. "Thank you, Chief Sigurd, Lady Astrid."

Astrid tilted her head, her eyes shimmering, and nodded. "One family to another, we wish you a safe journey and hope you find your family in good health."

Sera stood up abruptly, her posture a little stiff. "I'll escort Zayzal out," she declared.

Zayzal rose, bowing respectfully to the village leaders. "Until we meet again."

Sera nodded to her parents and quickly led Zayzal out of the house. As they walked through the village streets, the chilling mountain air surrounded them as snow fell.

The sun was still blocked by clouds overhead, but it was bright enough to tell them it was daytime. The two of them walked in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, secretly hoping this wasn’t the last time they saw each other.