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Chapter 45: The Mentor
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Chapter 47: Disciple
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The wind had died, and only sound was the soft shifting of loose dirt. The loose dirt that the zombie was pushing out of its way to climb out of its grave.
Its flesh was in various stages of decay, stripped in some places down to yellowed bone. The remnants of its burial garb hung in tattered strips from its withered frame. Dirt rolled off its broad rotten shoulders into the hole it just crawled out of.
Bones knitted together. Rotting flesh reformed into something almost ...
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