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... agic, that was. He'd created a Dungeon for the Australian refugees, the process being worlds apart from the simple portal rituals or even the regeneration rituals.
He was sitting cross-legged on the flagstones of the temple square, sweat beading up on his forehead as he wove cable thick strands of mana together, forging order from the chaotic energy. He'd long since passed the point where his rituals were visible only to those with mana sight active, and the crowds of Urlinad who watched ...
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