In a quiet village nestled among rolling hills, young Conan stood beside his mother. She gripped a broad sword, its blade gleaming in the soft sunlight. Her stance was firm, protective—a shield not only for herself but for her son.
In a quiet village nestled among rolling hills, young Conan stood beside his mother. She gripped a broad sword, its blade gleaming in the soft sunlight. Her stance was firm, protective—a shield not only for herself but for her son.