PREVIEW

... and stretching in a line like a true army preparing for a battle. Scores of them choked the space around Oarfang, the air reeking of blood, sweat, and piss.

Meanwhile, Nomad gazed deep somewhere toward the undead lines. Celme was busy staring at her own hands, her blonde hair streaked with crimson blood, eyes blank as if her mind was somewhere else.

Then the undead army parted, and one man trudged out of their ranks.

Nomad tensed back.

Valens blinked. He had seen ...

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