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... istled.

Low and sharp, lips pursed as he leaned back on the jagged black stone railing of his throne’s outer spire, one leg crossed casually over the other. His sword leaned against the edge, still faintly steaming with dried blood. The breeze around the Throne of Dread carried the scent of scorched earth and burnt ozone.

He pulled up the global chat screen, eyes scanning the firestorm of messages exploding across the server.

Just as he expected.

Just as he planne ...

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