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Chapter 453: The Man In The Dark
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Chapter 455: A Swift Arm
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... sure to inscribe every line, curve, and turning point no matter how faint or insignificant it seemed. The parchment beneath her hand was rough and brittle with age, smelling faintly of dust and iron. She could feel the pulse of old magic lingering beneath the ink, like veins of something alive, something that had been buried but never forgotten.
She wasn’t certain what secrets—or dangers—might be waiting in those invisible halls. But one thing she knew with a cold certainty in which she ...
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