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Chapter 52: The March Begins
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Chapter 54: Breach
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... memorized the dimensions — thirty-foot walls, western gate, plateau carved from living rock. Numbers. Lines. Abstractions. Standing at the base of the western approach with two hundred soldiers behind him, looking up at the thing those numbers described, was different.
The fortress squatted on its plateau like a fist pressed into the earth. The walls weren’t built — they were the mountain, shaped by divine hands centuries ago into something that said *nothing passes*. The Iron Hoof was ...
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