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Chapter 16 – The Hidden Land of Sambhala
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Chapter 18 – The Vanishing Mountains
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... He was short, round-bellied, wearing rusted armor at least two sizes too big, and a helmet that kept slipping over his eyes every few seconds like it was trying to run away from the embarrassment of being seen with him. His sword belt was dragging on the ground, and a giant, squeaky fork floated dutifully behind him like a loyal duckling.
But the sheer force of mana radiating from him made even the air hold its breath. The cracked ground quivered. The dead silence of Sambhala seemed to p ...
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